Goblin Dependency
Chapter 167 - 106 The Book Box_3

Chapter 167: Chapter 106 The Book Box_3

Had to rely on some shady "dirty work" to pay the bills.

"Damn it, if it weren’t for those bastards from the Wakefield family, I wouldn’t have had such a hard time on Midsummer Day, forced to return to this godforsaken place."

He cursed inwardly.

Vig raised his head again and glanced at the sky outside.

The sun had completely set, and night had fallen.

Draining the last layer of liquor at the bottom of the cup, he stood up and walked towards the tavern entrance.

"Kalin Worm!" "Wind Servant!" "%￥#@￥"

Behind him, the red-bearded Dwarf, who was just chatting exuberantly at the table, seemed to have a dispute with someone, shoving and tangling, attracting the other tavern patrons to gather around.

He snickered, his face showing undisguised disdain.

Vig bypassed the black-haired young man with dual swords on his back who was watching the commotion with amusement.

As he walked out of the tavern, he suddenly felt a cold breeze brush through the stifling air.

Instinctively, he shivered.

Glancing around suspiciously, he found nothing unusual.

He spat viciously at the tavern door before turning away.

Not long after he left, accompanied by an increasingly fierce icy wind, a burly figure draped in a wolf-skin cloak slowly entered the tavern.

Vig’s task this time was simple.

No need to kill anyone, nor face dangerous demons.

If luck was with him, he wouldn’t even need to use his knife.

—Steal something from Farrello of "Fairy Wind."

For a Wanderer, "thievery" wasn’t a difficult task.

Especially when he already disliked the other party.

"Who does he think he is, wearing glasses like a master."

"Pretending to be serious, yet unwilling to spare even two extra Gold Coins."

"He deserves to be resented!"

Seemingly recalling his past as an adventurer, Vig’s expression darkened, with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

The task was clear, and he knew the target inside out.

Still, with his rich experience.

He didn’t make a move the first day he returned to River Valley Town.

Instead, he patiently staked out outside the "Fairy Wind" shop for several nights.

It wasn’t until he completely grasped the other’s routine and habits.

That he began his action on a deep night a few days later.

Cloaked in a black night cape, his footsteps were silent.

The iron wire at his fingertips brushed gently over the door lock, and with an almost imperceptible click, the shop door swung open.

Farrello was unmarried, so naturally, there were no offspring, living alone.

Not often out, but occasionally drinking at White Sparrow until dawn.

Plenty of time.

With the generous reward promised by the employer in mind, he moved with agility, ghost-like in the dark.

In barely ten minutes, he found Farrello’s secret stash behind a picture frame in the inner room.

An unremarkable small box.

He dismantled the mechanism and opened it.

Inside lay a thin book with a light red cover.

After skimming a few pages, he confirmed it was the target of his mission.

Wasting no time, Vig stuffed the book and box into his coat, preparing to leave.

Then, as if recalling something, he paused, glanced at the surrounding shelves, and licked his parched lips instinctively.

Not daring to linger too long, loading up would hinder his escape.

He grabbed a few handfuls of Gold Coins and jewels, stuffing them into his waist pouch.

Under the cover of night, he hurried out of the town, mounted a horse he had prepared earlier in the outskirts during the day.

With the book box clutched to his chest, he made his way towards Neum City.

"After this mission, I can live lavishly for a few months!"

Bouncing with the galloping horse, Vig felt a bit relaxed, imagining the possibilities.

"Once this cools down, catch up with some friends, maybe ask them about Farrello..."

Bang——

On the distant horizon, a golden light, bright as the sun, suddenly burst forth.

The galloping horse was startled, hooves raised high.

Vig, caught off guard, was flung off the saddle.

Fortunately, his wanderer’s instincts allowed him to adjust mid-air, maintaining his center of gravity.

He didn’t just land lightly but also managed to roll aside, avoiding the descending hooves.

"Damn it! What the hell is that!"

In his eyes, the distant dazzling light, mixed with howling wolves and spores, a scorching fiery wind washing over him, his cloak flapping wildly.

Horrified, pulling the reins, about to climb back onto the horse.

Above, the sudden flap of wings echoed.

A fierce wind whistled.

Vig instinctively dove to the side.

The next second, a demon with membranous wings and a spine covered with bone spurs, surrounded by dark purple spores, dived down like a hawk, crushing his mount into a bloodied mass.

"Damn! Damn! Damn it!"

"How could there be a Thorn Demon in this godforsaken place!?"

Pupils contracted, gripping a short dagger tightly.

Vig inwardly wailed in despair.

Knowing escape was impossible, clinging to a shred of hope, he lunged forward fiercely.

The "Wanderer" granted shadow power and agile stance, initially not falling behind at all.

The edge of the envenomed short dagger glowing blue, leaving wound after wound on the Thorn Demon’s body.

In their entanglement, the Thorn Demon’s eyes, eroded by spores, flashed a final human-like glint.

A slip-up allowed Vig to carve a grievous wound in its chest, venom invading its flesh from the blade.

Simultaneously, its long tail shot out a bone spur, piercing the unlucky thief.

Its final consciousness fading under the spores’ erosion, with a shriek, the Thorn Demon flapped its wings, shakily taking flight, disappearing into the depths of the night sky.

Still clutching the book box stolen from the general store, Vig’s corpse lay silently on the ground.

It’s unclear how long passed, or perhaps attracted by the stench of decaying flesh.

A few goblins wandering in the wilderness discovered Vig’s corpse.

Instantly they let out sharp cheers, waving sticks to crush the rotting soft flesh, carrying it back to their cave.

The bloodstained tattered clothes were torn apart, and the wooden box with the thin book was casually tossed into the corner of the cave.

Resonating between the cave’s walls was the bubbling sound of boiling soup and chewing.

A bone still retaining bits of meat fell beside the book box.

In the cave’s humid, stifling environment, within a few days, the cooked meat strands began to stink.

"Screech!"

The goblins’ excited and greedy shrieks suddenly intensified within the cave.

Followed closely by the resistance of a blade sinking into flesh.

The air compressed, resonating faintly like a wolf’s howl.

Convulsing, the wiry limb fell to the ground, viscous pus splattering onto the book box surface.

In just a few seconds, the goblins’ cries changed from initial elation, gradually shifting to anger, then panic.

And finally settled into silence.

In the cave, only a deep, slow breathing remained.

The book box still lay quietly in the corner.

Footsteps gradually approached.

The wooden box was picked up from the ground.

Opened.

Facing the thin book with a light red cover inside the box was a young man with sharp features and black hair.