Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

"Gene, you actually managed to follow me all the way to the Kingdom of Fran." Herbert took a few steps slowly, then turned and placed the coat he was carrying on the table next to him, glancing at the brown-haired, bearded middle-aged man sitting there and the thin gauze curtains hanging by the window.

With a "hiss," two sounds of fabric tearing rang out, and two white appendages emerged from his back. Then, with a "snap," the appendages bulged downwards and transformed into a pair of enormous membranous wings.

"Aren't you really afraid of death?" Herbert turned his head, his eyes were covered with a layer of blood red, two sharp teeth gradually emerged, and his whole face suddenly turned pale and ferocious.

"Don't be so absolute. You haven't been able to kill me all these years." Gene stood up with a smile, but then he let out a painful groan. His hair grew rapidly, and his face became more prominent. As the sound of clothes tearing rang out, a few seconds later, a monster covered in black hair, with a wolf's head and a human body, charged directly at Herbert.

The two immediately began to wrestle in the room, and blood splattered on the surrounding walls as they clawed and bit.

With a "bang," Herbert was shoved into a bedroom by Gene. The bedroom was dark, with no candles lit, and the whole room was as dark as a giant beast with its mouth wide open. Gene, the werewolf, howled and rushed into the bedroom.

The bedroom door was pulled shut by a gust of air, followed by the sound of a fierce fight. The sound echoed outside, and the thin gauze curtains fluttered on their own without any wind, vaguely revealing some of their shape.

"Ouch—" Gene yelled in the bedroom, then slammed his fist against the wall a few times. He leaned against a low cabinet, looked at Herbert sitting on the bed, and asked in a low voice, "It should be okay, right?"

"Don't worry." The vampire Herbert grabbed a glass from a small table next to the bed and smashed it against the wall.

"How did you manage to get all the way to Girth Town?" he asked in a low voice.

"How can we not chase after you?" Gene kicked the low cabinet hard. "If we don't chase you, the master will find out everything."

"Yes," Herbert overturned the small table with a loud bang, then yelled twice before slumping down.

"Could you please put in a little more effort and make your moans sound more like it?" Gene said, somewhat dissatisfied with the other's "performance." "Otherwise, the master might think we're doing something else in the bedroom."

"What can they possibly be doing, two old men of such advanced age?" Herbert scoffed, but then he shouted a few more curses.

"That's true, the heads of two feuding families can't really do much," Gene said with a wry smile. "When will this ever end?"

"Speaking of which, tonight is a bit different," Herbert said, leaning closer to Gene as if remembering something.

"No, you found a clue about those ears?" Gene's tone was immediately excited, but he quickly realized, "Quick, don't just chat, don't put your hands down."

Herbert immediately kicked a chair next to him against the wall, then yelled a few times before whispering, "I just went to an alchemy workshop to discuss a deal. They ordered 5 potion bottles from me."

"What is this?" the werewolf Gene howled in pain.

"The key is that the person I was doing business with was a goblin," Herbert grinned, a smile that made his vampire appearance look even more sinister. "He tried to hide his identity, covering himself up completely, but little did he know that I could tell who he was just by smelling the blood on him."

"A goblin is the owner of an alchemy workshop?" Gene's voice rose slightly, but he immediately covered his mouth and then kicked the wall hard. "Didn't any of the adventurers coming and going in Goat's Horn notice?"

"So I deduced that he was probably making potions in the forest and then bringing them to town to sell," Herbert said with a laugh. "A goblin who can make all sorts of potions is probably a mage."

"You mean..." Gene hesitated for a moment, and stopped what he was doing. He still didn't understand what the other person meant.

"He must have a tribe, and the fact that he ordered 5 bottles at once shows that he is very powerful. You know, no one would order so many potion bottles. They don't have the ability to brew so many potions in such a short period of time," Herbert explained in a low voice, while raising his hand to signal that the other person should not forget what he was doing.

Gene nodded, then kicked open the cabinet. "You mean they're a very powerful race, with several mages or apothecaries among them?"

“Yes,” Herbert sat up on the bed twice, making a creaking sound, “so I agreed to their purchase price without thinking. That way, if we met a few more times and got to know each other well, I could ask them to help me find those ears in the forest.”

"Hmm," Gene pondered for a moment, then nodded, "This method works. This way, we have an extra group of people to help us search. It seems you've gotten a great deal."

"I hope this method will work." Herbert sighed, then sat up a few more times on the bed.

"Stop making that noise all the time," Gene said with disdain. "I'm leaving now. Contact me through the tavern if you need anything."

"Alright, I'll see if I can make you a supplier for those goblins," Herbert said in a low voice. "Oh, and tell your little wolf cub to stop hanging around my girl all the time."

Gene gave Herbert a disdainful look, then stretched out his claws and forcefully slashed several horrific wounds on his body. "You should say that to your little vampire."

After saying that, he forcefully slammed open the bedroom door, rolled out, and then immediately got up, let out a long howl, turned around, rushed to the window, and jumped out.

Herbert also made several cuts on his body, then "staggered" out of the bedroom while holding onto the door frame. Then his bat wings quickly retracted until they disappeared, and he returned to his normal appearance.

He was panting heavily as he walked slowly to the window, glanced at the street outside, and then slumped into the swivel chair.

"Don't forget what you promised me." A voice rang in his ear, and the fluttering veil beside him billowed up, revealing a human face.

"I know, Master," Herbert said weakly. He even tried to raise his hand, but it fell limply to the ground after several attempts.

"Hehehe." The man chuckled a few times, his laughter seemingly containing a hint of smugness.

Then the sheer curtains returned to their original state. Herbert glanced at them sideways and muttered to himself, "What a suspicious fellow."

"Bang, bang, bang," the door was pounded on violently, and the anxious voice of the waiter came from outside. Herbert stretched out his hand, flicked his fingers, and all the blood that had been scattered and splattered throughout the room gathered in his palm like a stream in the air.

He quickly absorbed the blood, then walked towards the door. "I'm fine. I just survived an assassination attempt."

…………

"How did you negotiate this price?" Agatha exclaimed, looking at the contract in her hand. "This is much cheaper than what I originally negotiated."

"I don't know," Charles leaned back in his chair and said calmly, "Maybe they agreed because they saw I wanted a large quantity."

"How could this be?" Agatha still looked at the list in disbelief.

"I didn't expect them to agree so quickly at first," Charles said with a smile. "I thought they would give me a quote. You know how it is in business, you start with an exorbitant price and then negotiate down to the bottom. But I didn't expect Herbert to agree so readily, and he signed the document so quickly, and left right after it was done."

"So you also..." Agatha tilted her head and looked at Charles.

"I came back right away. I made such a good deal, of course I had to leave immediately," Charles chuckled. "I can't give them a chance to back out."

"That's a really good deal," Agatha said, pursing her lips. "How come I've never encountered anything like this?"

Charles chuckled smugly. "This solves part of the problem that restricts potion production."

"Speaking of which, why did you bring in so many bottles? Can Little Claw manage all of that with just one hand?" Agatha asked, putting down the contract.

"Take your time, it's still doable," Charles said, tapping the edge of the table with his fingers. "No rush to use it all at once, just prepare for next year."

"Next year?" Agatha was a little confused. She didn't know why she had to start stockpiling healing potions now for next year.

"Hmm, next year should be a very exciting year." Charles picked up a bottle of healing potion from the table, looked up at the glowing mushrooms on the ceiling through the potion, and said, "With something this exciting, how can I not take the opportunity to do myself a favor?"

"Benefits?" Agatha still didn't understand what Charles was talking about, but she knew that he was probably hiding some information. "Forget it, I won't get involved in these things. When can you get me some new runewords?"

"We're preparing for it," Charles said with a smile, putting down the healing potion in his hand. "We can only do it after the centaurs are on, since it's not a good idea to ask directly now."

Agatha nodded, not urging him any further, and slowly said, "My plague will begin in a few days."

"Was it the time I saw you before?" Charles immediately sat up straight. "Will there be any danger this time?"

"No, the medicine is all ready," Agatha nodded.

"Is there really no way to cure this plague?" Charles frowned. His sister was also a mage and should be suffering from the plague as well. Moreover, he had asked Agatha about the plague before, and he deduced that his sister might be suffering even more now.

"There's no way," Agatha shook her head. "The plague is incurable."