Chapter 33: Chapter 27: The Cabin in the Woods
This was a small wooden cabin in the forest, its outer walls covered in moss and vines.
This cabin was the question mark on the Domain map. Yesterday, Shire had led his men to gather a large amount of Bang-Bang Fruit, and today he had brought some with him to investigate.
He scanned his surroundings. Other than the chirping of birds and the towering trees, there was nothing else.
CREAK. He reached out and slowly pushed open the door. It wasn’t locked. A faint scent of medicinal herbs wafted to his nose.
"A potion-making cabin?" Shire said with delight. ’This will be incredibly useful for the Goblin Race.’
Then, he took a Bang-Bang Fruit from his pocket and tiptoed inside.
The furnishings were plain, even a little dated. There was a long wooden table with a few chairs, and on it sat three large bags of medicinal herbs. The walls were lined with shelves holding countless bottles and jars, each sealing all sorts of strange things inside.
The fireplace was full of cold ashes, proof that someone had been living here.
"Follow me," Shire ordered his men, then walked to the long table, holding the Bang-Bang Fruit aloft.
The tabletop was spotless. A rusty bronze candlestick was caked in wax drippings, and a book less than two fingers thick had been casually left on the table.
"*Nobles behind the Bed Curtain of Plantagenet City*?" Shire scanned the cover warily.
He carefully opened the book and found a black bookmark tucked inside.
Turning to the bookmarked page, he read the text:
Beneath the moonlight, Viscount Messes tightly clasped his cousin’s hand. He said with deep emotion, "My dear cousin, do not let the stares of others define us. I only wish to spend the rest of my life with you."
The Viscount’s cousin slowly withdrew her hand and said softly, "No, I am already engaged."
Viscount Messes let out a soft sigh. "Are we truly not meant to be? If I cannot have you by my side in the years to come, then I would rather jump from the highest tower right now."
"No, my cousin." The Viscount’s cousin gently pressed her fingers to his lips. "If you were to die, my heart would die as well."
SNAP. Shire slammed the book shut. ’What is this garbage? That Messes fellow is bisexual.’
’Some braindead, third-rate author. Instead of writing this garbage, they might as well write an actual novel.’
"Is that so? And how would you know he’s bisexual?" an aged, hoarse female voice asked from behind him.
Shire whirled around, raising the Bang-Bang Fruit in his hand as if to throw it, but there was no one behind him.
’Where are my men?’ he murmured.
"They are all asleep outside," the aged voice said, a trace of surprise in its tone. "A Belani Tree Lamp Fruit. I never expected you to possess something so interesting."
"Who are you?" Shire’s eyes darted around the room.
"I am the owner of this place, of course. But you... a goblin who can speak Common Speech. That is most interesting."
"My apologies for the intrusion. I only stumbled upon this place by accident, and I haven’t caused any damage." Unable to figure out who or what he was dealing with, Shire began to cautiously edge toward the door. "I’ll leave right away and won’t come near here again."
"No. You still haven’t explained how you know Messes is bisexual," the aged voice pressed.
Then, a wooden cup on the table WHOOSHED into the air and landed in front of him. A small kettle from the corner of the table then lifted, as if held by an invisible person, and poured its contents into the cup mid-air.
"Have some water. And take your time telling me."
Shire stared at the cup before him. The water inside was a pale yellow, giving off a wisp of steam and what smelled like a faint floral aroma.
He returned to the table, picked up the cup, and took a sip. It wasn’t bad.
’Looks like leaving won’t be so easy today,’ he thought, his mind racing to form a plan. ’Luckily, she hasn’t shown any real malice so far.’
"If—and I’m saying *if*—the book is talking about the same Calder Messes I know, then that guy is nothing like what’s written. He’s always bragging about all the beautiful women who like him, but he’s actually fooling around with his effeminate guard."
"Isn’t his guard a man?" A hint of curiosity entered the woman’s voice.
"Yes. The most ridiculous thing that guy ever did was take his guard to the Red Light District. Then there were three people in the room—the guard was there, and that guy was in the middle."
"Er..." The female voice was clearly not expecting the story to be so explosive.
"If he hadn’t paid so much hush money, the story would have gotten out long ago. So what’s written in this book is just secondhand gossip."
"Then how do you, a goblin, know this?" the woman’s voice echoed through the cabin, grating against Shire’s eardrums like sandpaper. For a moment, he felt as if she were standing right behind him.
"I..." He hesitated, trying to come up with a story to bluff his way out of this.
"I was once a pet, raised by a noble family. They taught me to speak and read—you know how nobles have their... peculiar hobbies," Shire said with practiced ease, trying to make his story sound believable. "Eventually, they released me at the edge of the forest."
"Raising goblins as pets... I’ve heard of it, but not within the Fran Kingdom. It’s a practice more popular in the neighboring kingdoms," the female voice said.
"Exactly. At first, they kept me, dressed me up in all kinds of interesting clothes. I overheard all these nobles’ private matters from the sidelines." Shire paused before continuing, "Later, they grew afraid that keeping a goblin would incite public disgust, so they set me free."
"That is plausible," the woman’s voice said, her tone flat and showing little fluctuation. "So you overheard all these secrets."
"Right, right! So you see, I’ve answered your question. Perhaps I can..." Shire offered a faint smile, set down his cup, and wiggled two fingers in a walking gesture, indicating his desire to leave.
"You are a clever one, little fellow. But did you really think that explanation would fool me?" the old woman’s voice rang out, but it was choppy and intermittent, like a bad electrical connection.
"I’m telling the truth! If you don’t believe me, you can go ask around. I can even take you to Plantagenet City," Shire said earnestly.
"When I... lived there... I never heard of any family... keeping a goblin." The static in the woman’s voice grew more pronounced.
"Er, well, you see, I can explain..." Shire racked his brain for what to say next. Her tone had clearly turned hostile.
"Fine, little fellow. Don’t come here again. Do not come back to my cabin." The woman’s voice sounded like she was enduring great pain, and her last word was drawn out and much louder.
"Alright, I’m leaving right now," Shire said instantly.
"Get out!" the woman screamed, her voice cracking from the strain.
CREAK. The sound of the door closing was followed by a heavy THUD. A hunchbacked old woman in a black robe materialized, her body collapsing to the floor. She had wrinkled skin, black hair, purple eyes, and a hooked nose.
"Ugh, why did the Demon Plague have to flare up now," she groaned, crawling with great difficulty. Her voice was no longer old and hoarse, but that of a weary young woman.
’A Ghost Witch.’ Shire stood by the door, his eyes fixed warily on the figure on the floor.
