5

For a moment, I gazed at the river in surprise at the unexpected discovery.

I had found a water source.

That was good.

But there were already… not just prior visitors, but actual native inhabitants.

Those noisy, swarming, pest-like little green things the size of children, crying out “gyai gyai”… yes, goblins.

(So these guys are the source of the smell, huh?)

I knew, as a matter of knowledge, that they “smelled,” but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.

Perhaps it was because my senses had been enhanced, but the stench was truly one that could “make your nose twist.”

Seeing a live goblin for the first time, what struck me was how different they were from their fictional depictions, entirely because of their filthiness.

In porn videos, there was a fairly common scenario where men dressed as goblins assault women, but that’s just a joke precisely because it was unrealistic—if they looked this filthy, they could never be the target of such acts.

Sure, there were probably people who “liked that sort of thing,” but there’s a limit to everything.

And with weapons and armor having developed in every country, their threat level had gradually dropped; in the Empire, at worst they’d raid rural crops, which was the reality as I knew it. People living in urban areas had little to do with them, and that indifference only worsened the situation.

Besides, no woman would wander around dangerous areas where she might run into monsters, and in terms of risk, walking alone at midnight was far more dangerous.

That said, if they were under the command of higher species or other races—such as ogres or highly intelligent magical beasts—the story would be a bit different.

Even in my time, there had been incidents where a carriage in some country was attacked during transport by a group of goblins led by an ogre, and the women aboard suffered terrible fates.

Such things never happened in the Empire thanks to guns, but there had been news of children being abducted in other countries and subjected to horrors beyond description.

So, in that sense, they were just clever enough to be a nuisance.

“All right, time to wipe them out.”

With that casual thought, I quietly set down my baggage and carried out a “hello, now die.”

In just a few minutes, the fifteen goblins were reduced to chunks of meat.

There was nothing worth noting, except perhaps that they scattered in all directions, which made it take a little longer than planned.

They were only about half my height when I was bent forward.

In numbers, that’s about 120 cm, so the pure size difference was enough to end it.

A single swing of my fist would make them burst with a “pop,” so I actually had to hold back when killing them.

I had a decent tolerance for gore, so a goblin bursting didn’t faze me.

The battlefield photos they showed us as a prank during training had hit my stomach harder.

Incidentally, I tried using my tail just for the occasion, but misjudged my strength and sent the goblin flying to the height of a tree.

It landed headfirst, snapping its neck instantly.

I was still not used to having a tail, but thinking about how useful it could be once I’d mastered it made me a little excited.

And so, having secured the water source without incident, I stepped into the river right away, but even at its deepest, it was only knee-deep.

Thanks to its clarity, I could clearly see the fish at the bottom.

It was surprising to find such a clean river in the Empire, but since there was no abnormal smell, it didn’t seem like it was “secretly heavily polluted” or anything like that.

I wasn’t particularly thirsty, but I washed my blood-covered fists and took a small sip.

(The smell and taste are fine, the appearance is clear—it’s good water. I’d rather not test it on my own body, but if goblins lived here, I want to believe it’s safe.)

Now I could only hope it wouldn’t upset my stomach, but I was also a little curious what would happen to this body if it did.

If I could drink from here, water was no longer a concern—next came the food problem.

Looking from the river out to the goblin corpses strewn along the bank, I pondered how to clean up.

I briefly wondered, “Can you eat goblin meat?” but goblins reeked, and their corpses were beyond inedible.

Especially now that my sense of smell has improved.

Even in an emergency, I couldn’t bring myself to eat them, and I couldn’t think of a use for them except to worry about how to dispose of them.

Well, the best I could do was throw them in as fish food, I figured, so I tossed one corpse into the river and observed for a while—sure enough, the fish took the bait. It seemed corpse disposal wouldn’t be a problem, but it might pollute the water, so I stopped there.

(Maybe I could use them as fishing bait.)

That thought crossed my mind, but unfortunately, I had no hook, no line, not even a rod.

Apparently, with goblins, chumming the water was the limit.

Still, I couldn’t leave all the disposal to the river, so I tossed more than half of them far away.

Surely wild animals or insects would take care of them.

So I tore a goblin into small pieces, threw the meat into the river, and aimed at the fish that gathered.

I tried a knifehand strike, thrusting toward the targeted fish—no luck.

After various trials, I found that spreading my hands and scooping the fish to toss them onto the bank was the correct method.

I felt a bit sad at how animal-like I was becoming, but humans were part of nature too.

So I decided to just accept it and kept going.

Otherwise, I’d never be able to keep this up.

My environment—and my body—were both changing.

I almost wanted to praise myself for not going insane.

For now, I moved my baggage far enough away not to pick up the goblin stench and made this today’s campsite.

I would have preferred a roofed shelter, but right now the best I could hope for was a cave.

Any makeshift huts of wood and leaves the goblins had used stank so bad I didn’t want to go near them, and in any case, I couldn’t fit in them.

I thought about how nice it would be if there were some safe structure nearby, but after 200 years, nothing intact was likely to remain. I also considered building one myself.

That would mean I’d have to find tools, even if building materials could be gathered locally.

(I never played any of those zero-equipment survival games.)

I remembered a popular game in the Empire’s arcades that always had crowds around it.

There was always someone playing it, so even trying to book a turn meant waiting 10 hours.

As a student who could only play after school, I never had the chance, so I never even picked up the information.

Even if it was just a game, maybe I could’ve learned some survival basics—now I regretted not trying it.

(Well, what’s done is done. Starting tomorrow, I’ll explore around the river… whether this flows east or west will affect my plans.)

Following the river upstream would eventually lead to the Kingdom of Canaan, but I still had no good plan for contact with humans.

I knew I should figure out how to handle it if I was spotted.

But that would change greatly depending on how different things were from 200 years ago.

For example, equipment—they might have developed weapons capable of easily cutting through this body.

Especially in terms of magic, I was a total amateur—no, worse, completely ignorant.

That’s why it might be better to avoid the magical nations to the east and west, and head for the northern Kingdom of Canaan, which balanced science and magic.

Because it pursued both, the Kingdom of Canaan was mediocre in each, making it, in a way, ideal for gauging current technology.

Since the Empire was likely destroyed, the Kingdom of Canaan was the only nearby country that might have inherited its technology.

Knowing what weapons they had would obviously change my plans.

If I knew their upper limit, I could tell how well I could fight in this era.

In other words, to gauge my survivability against humans, I needed to know the Kingdom of Canaan’s tech level.

Magic was hopeless for me.

I was afraid they might suddenly put me to sleep and throw me into a freak show or auction.

So I wasn’t ready to interact with the magically inclined east or west just yet.

(It’s not like I’m seriously thinking of avoiding humans entirely.)

As a former human, I didn’t want to make that choice.

But that left me with a mountain of problems.

(The biggest is probably that I can’t even speak properly.)

Then it hit me.

I could only speak “Fullretos Imperial,” the language of the Empire.

A language that probably no longer existed.

Even if I could speak, in this form, it would be difficult.

The more I thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed.

It felt like I had nothing but problems.

(I’m starting to think it’s pointless to even think about this.)

Should I just live as a monster?

What would that even look like?

The moment I imagined it, I gave up—there was no way I could live like that.

As a former Imperial, I couldn’t imagine a life cut off from civilization.

I was only enduring my current situation because it was the second day—if it went on forever, I was sure I’d lose my mind.

A month… maybe I could still enjoy this body for that long, but beyond that, I’d break.

I obviously needed to find “something” before my time limit ran out.

(Something to live for in this form…)

Nothing came to mind.

But I couldn’t help admiring this body’s high specs.

(Oh, right—I still haven’t mastered this body.)

I stopped thinking and decided to train instead.

Whatever I decided, I knew I’d regret it if I couldn’t handle this body.

The sun would soon set.

I moved my body for as long as I could, training to adapt to its sensations.

By the time it was getting dark, another group of goblins arrived, so I made sure to wipe them out.

They were probably the friends of the earlier “natives” who had gone hunting.

I also made sure to take the rabbit the goblins had with them, securing food.

“Too bad. The only place for you lot is in dirty magazines and porn videos.”

When I said that line, what actually came out was “gao gao gao”—I wondered when my fear of meeting humans would go away.

I felt a twinge of impatience—“I have to get used to this body fast”—but it was still only the second day since I woke up.

I calmed myself and looked up at the darkening sky.

That was enough for today.

Taking out a match from my backpack, I lit a fire and carefully set it inside a goblin hut.

As expected, it caught quickly, being nice and dry.

I skewered the rabbit meat on a stick I’d picked up and ate it bit by bit as it cooked.

The meat tasted like nothing but meat—it wasn’t good, but it was edible.

I did the same with the fish, which was better than the rabbit but still made me crave salt.

I wasn’t even that hungry, but by the time I’d finished the bland meal, the goblins’ shabby hut had burned down.

There were still plenty of such huts left for fuel, so maybe I’d base myself here for a while.

I brought my baggage over, sat under a tree, leaned my back against the trunk, and closed my eyes.

I wasn’t sleepy, but I still needed to rest my body.