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Goblin Extra Chapter (3): Hunted and Evolving
🕑 Added 2025-11-01 06:15:04 +0000 UTCGauss had lost track of how many days it had been since they fled the mine-pit nest.
He hadn’t kept count—or rather, had no way to. Down here there was no day or night, and without the mine’s routine of being roused for shifts, he’d simply lost any sense of time.
He stared blankly at the campfire and fed it with kindling—really just some brittle dried vine—while he thought. Beside him, the little Insectfolk who’d escaped the mine with him watched the flames with lingering fear. The way it kept its distance said enough. Yet when the smell of food roasting over the fire reached it, it couldn’t help swallowing.
“Done. Eat.”
Gauss handed it a few skewers.
“Thank you.”
The little Insect was still very polite, though it had grown familiar with him. That was likely its nature. If not for Gauss, it would have been one more docile worker drone, never birthing a thought of resistance. It was “different” only in being a little smarter—but that very “wisdom” made the gentle thing more lost in the mine’s oppressive, repetitive world.
That was why it gravitated toward Gauss.
He glanced at it. The underground Insect civilization was sharply stratified. The lowest-tier Insects were practically simpletons; even clever ones like this little one were “bumpkins” with no exposure. It was confused by the very idea of fleeing the mine, terrified by the rare sight of fire.
Meanwhile, higher castes were clearly at a more advanced civilizational stage—even wielding a developed supernatural system. He couldn’t help recalling the bulky beetle knight at the gate; the fierce white light it had emitted. If he hadn’t awakened flight—and if the thing hadn’t been too heavy to give chase—he might have died in the mine that day.
Even their pheromone system for sharing information was highly refined. Anything he wanted to express, he could find an exact “word” for. Rare stuff. In his past life, many languages weren’t so clear or intuitive.
All signs pointed to a highly developed civilization.
“Mmm—mm—so good!” The little Insect ate clumsily, bliss written on its face. Perhaps because he’d been a Insect long enough now, Gauss could distinguish a peer’s expressions and emotions. Looking at its innocent face, he felt a pang of envy. They were both wanted fugitives in this underground world, hunted by the entire hive, yet it remained carefree. Gauss, by contrast, thought more, worried more—it was hard to stay so optimistic.
Maybe being thick-skinned has its perks.
He shook his head. When they’d finished eating and the little Insect had drifted into a happy daze again, Gauss said suddenly, “Hey—give yourself a name?”
“Name?” The white Insect froze. It vaguely understood what a name was, but had never thought of taking one.
“A handle. Otherwise I never know what to call you.”
The compound eyes turned thoughtful. It felt it wasn’t something it was “supposed” to have—but since Gauss had said so, it instinctively obeyed. It thought for a long time. Looking at Gauss’s pretty silver carapace, then its own pale shell, it timidly sent a thought:
“Shine… Shiny.”
It wanted to shine like him—become strong.
“I’m Gauss.”
Gauss nodded—the first time he’d given his name. “Gauss…” Shiny repeated it silently several times, fixing it deep in memory.
It had little initiative and was easily content. Whether working day in, day out, or following Gauss across the wild, it could endure.
“When we’re done, we’ve got to leave,” Gauss said, gazing at the blue-lit lake ahead. “We’ve been hit by bounty hunters several times lately—our trail’s blown.”
Since escaping the mine, he and Shiny had been marked for arrest. They couldn’t enter settlements or Insect towns to resupply—and worse, mercenaries kept coming for the bounty.
Not that Gauss thought it all bad.
“Evolution Manual”
Host: Gauss
STR: 5
AGI: 4
END: 5
INT: 3
PER: 4
CHA: 3
Trait: Hunter’s Instinct
Skills: Flight, Sprint Slash, Dual-Blade Slash.
As a low-tier Insect, his stats had all been 3 at the start. But by constantly killing wild prey and the various Insect hunters who came for him, he’d absorbed their energy and strengthened himself.
Each target type provided different life-energy: thick-shelled beetle-beasts gave END and STR; mosquito- and fly-type creatures gave AGI and PER. When a given “pool” filled, the corresponding stat rose a tier.
For now his goal was simple: keep killing, keep growing, until he was strong enough to survive in the Insect world. And—he wanted to see the surface. Slim chance, but… maybe up there was a human city.
The underground was a web of hive-spaces linked by tunnels. Some were “closed,” like his starter-mine: exits high up, guarded. For slave-workers, leaving was nearly impossible—they couldn’t fly and couldn’t match the guards. Ninety-nine point nine nine percent of them would hatch and die in the mine, their lives a stagnant pool—no deviation.
That made a “glitch” like Gauss glaring—and got him listed instantly.
Aside from mines, there were many other hive types. Most common were wild hives: unruled spaces full of dangerous beasts and Insect-beasts. That’s where they were now.
Another type, which Gauss dubbed town-hives, was where Insect civilization lived. But as wanted criminals, he and Shiny couldn’t enter. He remembered the first time he felt his way to a town-hive—if he hadn’t noticed something off about the soldiers and backed out with Shiny, they’d have been surrounded.
For now, town-hives were a no-go. There were also farm- and ranch-hives, garrisoned as well.
Outside of flight, his individual combat power was only a bit above a rank-and-file Insect-soldier—he could handle a few at once, but a prepared unit? He’d be lucky to escape.
So he stuck to wild hives. His course was generally “up”—he wanted to see the surface. But it wasn’t smooth. Beyond hunters, the wild teemed with strong beasts. He’d seen one as big as a fortress—dozens to hundreds of times his size—terrifying. Thankfully, it hadn’t been eager to fight.
Living out here, they faced all the basics: food, water, shelter, disease, harsh environments. Even heading upward, they often ran into “dead ends”—in the labyrinth, they wandered hive to hive, searching.
Shiny didn’t understand. It didn’t understand much of what Gauss did or wanted—but his “new” ideas captivated it. Mountains, the sea, the stars—no concepts for any of it, but it could imagine them through his words. A small seed of yearning took root.
Time slid by again—months? Years? Two Insects Wandering the underworld.
Gauss split a plant with a claw. Behind him, Shiny had changed, too—the shell brighter, strength greater.
That was probably diet; away from the mine, though they struggled through danger, their food was far more nutritious than that black slop.
Suddenly his Hunter’s Instinct screamed.
Whssht! Whssht! Whssht!
A volley sliced down from above—steel-hard stingers.
“Shiny—hide.” He sent the warning by pheromone and slashed the needles aside. Shiny ducked behind a rock. Gauss looked up into the tunnel’s shadows.
Three strange Insectfolk emerged—mantis-slim bodies, but with bee-like translucent wings and stinger-launchers on their backs. Amber cold eyes, dark-green shells blending to the rock.
“Needle-wasp hunters…”
He knew the type. Agile, harassing at range—professional trackers and killers. Lately the hits had been a tier stronger.
It was all because he’d casually offed a noble Insect who’d been abusing slaves, wasn’t it? He remembered the day he learned “Camouflage,” slipped into a town, and saw a fat noble lashing slaves in the street.
He hadn’t held back—caught a gap in the guards, and one Sprint Slash ended him. It had brought trouble—but no regrets. If he had to do it again, he would. The only regret was having to end it quickly—he’d wanted to make the pig suffer more.
Host: Gauss
STR: 5→8
AGI: 4→5
END: 5→6
INT: 3→4
PER: 4→5
CHA: 3→5
Trait: Hunter’s Instinct
Skills: Flight, Sprint Slash, Dual-Blade Slash, Charged Heavy Slash, Full-Moon Gleam Slash, Camouflage, High-Frequency Wingbeat, Carapace Hardening.
Facing the three hunters, his mood barely shifted. Before, they’d have been troublesome. But after so long challenging and killing strong foes, his body was harder, leaner.
In the hive-world, he was a bona fide “minor master.” Back in the mine, he could probably kill every guard alone, rather than run with Shiny. If he got the chance, he did want to go back; he was just… a little lost. Finding the way would be a pain—so it stayed a notion.
“You’re next.”
His eyes turned vicious. The three veterans flinched in unison; even the air felt heavy. They realized the silver Insect before them might be the toughest opponent they’d ever met.
Fssst-fssst-fssst! Fssst-fssst-fssst!
Perhaps cowed by his aura, they struck first—fat tail-organs hosing a storm of needles.
“Carapace Hardening!”
He popped the defense—his silver shell flared and visibly thickened.
Tink-tink-tink!
The rain of needle-fire rang on the hardened plates, throwing sparks. When the clatter faded, all they’d left were a few white scuffs.
What?!
Shock froze them—and Gauss moved.
His legs coiled and launched—his body a silver shell fired into the air. [High-Frequency Wingbeat] kicked in; thin, tough membranes beat at terrifying speed, painting the air with afterimages. Before they faded, a moon-bright claw arc carved the sky.
Sssk!
Insect fluid sprayed. One hunter cleaved in two.
A ball of life-energy folded into him. He turned to the other two—horror written across their eyes. “Become the fuel for my growth.”
He blurred—ice-lights streaked. When he landed, the other two toppled.
“AGI +1,” the Manual displayed. A long-hoarded “agility slot” had filled; the stat ticked up.
“Haa…”
He exhaled, looking at his sharp claws—faint pain whispered from the edges. Steel-hard they might be, but repeated clashes had left scuffs. Shiny crept out, dabbing his claws with a prepared liquid and wiping them gently, worried.
“We should go find a claw-smith,” Shiny sent.
They had met decent Insects out there; a band of warriors had once shared the “claw-smith” rumor and a rough direction. A claw-smith could repair and temper an Insect's claws.
Gauss had wanted to reach the surface first—but finding a path up wouldn’t be easy anytime soon. Better to detour: repair and upgrade his claws. A well-traveled smith might also know more about the hive-world.
Sharpening the blade doesn’t delay chopping wood. There would be plenty more ambushes and frontal fights; better be ready now. The next foe would only be stronger.
A long road ahead…
