Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

"Jaber, are you planning to use these things to restrain those goblins?" the older merchant chuckled and said.

"Yes, Uncle Crow, I heard that the kingdom has a lot of these things in stock. To be honest, these things were left over from the kingdom 500 years ago, but they are still usable, just a bit heavier than the ones we use now." The young Jabbar weighed the magic collar in his hand. This thing was made entirely of metal, and there was a magic crystal the size of a fingernail embedded in the collar.

"Is it from the previous dynasty? Could it be something left behind by that mad king?" Old Kro stroked his goatee. "This thing is dangerous. If it strays too far from the central magic pillar, it'll explode. If you're planning to put it on those goblins, aren't you afraid it'll blow their necks off?"

"This is exactly what I wanted," Jabbar placed the metal magic collar on the sofa cushion beside him. Its sturdy weight caused the collar to sink directly into the velvet cushion. "Once I control those goblins, they will definitely try every means to escape from that area, which is not what I want to see. Fortunately, I found these collars by chance when I was helping the kingdom's administrative officials renovate the buildings. With this, I will not be afraid of the goblins escaping at all."

"I just need to put up a magic pillar in the middle of those guys' kennels, and if they try to run away," he raised a hand, his five fingers clenching together scattering with a "bang" as he spoke, "after a few of them die, they should all behave themselves."

"That's a good method. Those goblins are just stupid, not brainless," Old Crowe nodded, then took another sip of coffee. "But I still have a question."

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar raised his hand, indicating that the other party should ask a question.

"I've been to that goblin tribe with you a few times and seen their numbers. If you try to control that many, your expenses and costs will become very high."

"That's not a problem," Jabbar shrugged. "The reason I'm interested in those goblins is because they're cheap. These guys can find their own food and they're quite prolific. As for the costs you mentioned, it's just a matter of food. But goblins can survive by eating tree bark."

He chuckled and leaned back on the sofa. "You know I'm in the timber business. These guys can't do the other finer work, but they can handle the basic logging and trimming. I'll figure out a way to transport the timber from the water using rafts along the Dallen River and then we can exchange it for money."

"Aren't you going to provide them with some food?"

"What a joke, those are all unnecessary costs. Once they complete the timber target I asked for, they can find food on their own, as long as they don't leave the area of ​​the magic pillar. If they really don't have time, they can gnaw on tree bark."

"That's a good method; it can save a lot of money," old Crowe said with a smile.

"There's nothing I can do about it. I'm in the timber business. If I had a mine, that would be ideal. These goblins are best suited for digging holes." Jabbar patted the sofa cushion next to him with some reluctance.

"So the next question is, how are you going to deal with that feathered serpent?" Old Crow put down his coffee cup, clasped his hands, and said calmly, "You should know the power of an evil god."

"What a load of bull, a flying snake," Jabbar scoffed. "I've already figured out how to deal with it. Once things are settled here, I'll immediately head to Plantagenet City to handle this matter."

"Oh?" Old Crowe tilted his head, looking at the other person with great interest.

"You know about White Spirit Wood, right?" Jabbar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking mysterious.

"White Spirit Wood, I know a kind of wood," Old Crowe thought for a moment and said, "Isn't this mainly supplied to the four major churches?"

"That's right, they use white spirit wood to make indulgences, and then sell them to those nobles," Jabbar paused for a few seconds before lowering his voice and saying, "In the last six months, the shipment of white spirit wood has been increasing, and the orders are all from those four churches. I suspect they're planning some kind of big event."

"A large event?"

"I can't be sure, but I'm somewhat certain. When I go back to Golden Flower City, I plan to approach the Church of the God of War and Glory, tell them about the evil god in the forest, and provide them with its exact location." Jabbar smiled confidently. "Uncle Crow, you know the strength of the Holy Crusade of the Church of War. They've dealt with various incidents involving demons or evil creatures many times before. Those paladins' 'Holy Slash' is incredibly powerful."

"Are you planning to approach the Church of War?"

"Yes, and I also inquired beforehand that the Holy Army has just appointed a very young deputy commander. This person seems to be a restless person, always leading teams to various parts of the kingdom to handle various events. I think he may be establishing his authority."

"A young deputy commander? To establish authority?" Old Crowe stroked his goatee, repeating the other man's words.

"Young people are so easily appointed as deputy commanders. It's not like those nobles who send their offspring to get gilded status. So as long as I find the other party and tell him about the existence of the evil god, do you think this young man will be able to resist the urge?" Jabbar leaned over, a sinister smile on his face.

"I probably couldn't help it."

"As long as I make those goblins hide beforehand, once the Crusaders have dealt with the Feathered Serpent, I won't have any worries about the future." Jabbar slapped his knee, his voice rising. "Then, I'll truly have control over these goblins. If any of them disobey, I can even package them up and sell them to the mine owners for a little more profit."

"I do have a suggestion," old Crowe chuckled, then, under the questioning gaze of the other man, said, "You could also develop a tourism project."

"Tourism? Who would come to the Nightmare Forest for tourism?"

"Many of those nobles who have nothing better to do than sit on the Lily Street and probably have no more ambitions, but ordinary hunting isn't very exciting."

"You mean, let those nobles come here to hunt goblins?" Jabbar's eyes lit up. "That's a good idea. We can get a luxury ship and sail it directly down the Darren River. There will be fine wine and women on board. Once we get off the ship, we can experience a real hunt without worrying about danger. If any goblins dare to approach or resist, we can just activate the magic item."

Old Crowe smiled and nodded, then reached for his coffee cup on the coffee table again. "But you must remember," he said after taking a small sip of coffee, "the master's task."

"It's just finding his tongue," Jabbar said nonchalantly, straightening up. "They've been searching for it for thousands of years. They're probably just lying to us. Isn't it normal for those demon lords to deceive humans with lies?"

"I'm just reminding you," old Kro shrugged, "that the lord will definitely notice once you've taken control of those goblins."

Speaking of which,

He paused deliberately, then gestured with his eyes to the few gold coins placed on the side of the coffee table.

Jabbar frowned slightly, understanding what the other person meant. "I understand, I'll be careful. After all, the higher-ups in our Merchant Alliance are all people of the Greedy Lord."

"You know that much." Old Crowe's gaze didn't leave the gold coins. Seeing that the coins didn't move, didn't roll on their own, and didn't float up, he continued to sip his coffee.

"Then I'll rest for two days and then head to Goldberg City," Jabbar glanced at the gold coins on the coffee table, then asked, "By the way, what's this 'White Shell' Merchant Guild that's been all over Giraffes Horn lately?"

"It's just a small business association. I only heard about it when I came here to handle some banking matters," Old Crowe said without any concern. "It's probably a small business association backed by a church, helping those churches with their business affairs. These kinds of 'front companies' are quite common."

"But I heard that their chamber of commerce has orders all over Giethoorn."

"Yes, but it's only in Giraffe Town. It hasn't spread to the surrounding areas at all, and it hasn't even entered Black Lion City," Old Crowe put down his cup. "These small merchant guilds are easy to deal with. Tomorrow I'll send someone to visit their bosses and sell them some low-interest loans. Once they're hooked, we can use our connections in Black Lion City to put pressure on them here, and it will be easy to control them."

"That's right, these small merchant guilds aren't that powerful," Jabbar chuckled twice. "Like the Melo family, a minor noble family, they were also schemed against by the Alliance, weren't they?"

"It's best not to talk about this outside," Old Crowe coughed, reminding the other party to be careful. "Those nobles and royalty are all taking credit for this. If they find out that it was the Merchant Alliance that started this, we'll still be in trouble."

"I understand, I understand," Jabbar waved his hand and said with a smile, "So, what kind of loan are you planning to give this 'White Shell' Chamber of Commerce?"

"The old method: use low interest rates as a pretext to dig some traps, wait for them to run into trouble, and then pressure them. If the boss is sensible, leave him a way out; if he's not, swallow up his business association and his connections with the church." Old Crowe said casually, without any concern whatsoever.

"I've always felt that as long as I run a timber business, I'm fine. I can't compare to you money-grubbing types." Jabbar chuckled, grabbed his coffee cup, and took a big gulp, not caring that the coffee had gone cold.

Meanwhile, old Kro glanced at the all-metal magic collar on the velvet cushion beside him and gave a confident smile.

…………

"What are you laughing at?"

Charles held a piece of animal skin from some unknown creature in his hand, examining the contents written on it. He inadvertently caught a glimpse of the Naga prince across the table, who was giving him a strange smile.

"It's nothing," Pazzani said, gripping the cup in front of him tightly with his webbed hands. The warm soup inside made him feel very comfortable. "I can't swim across the underground river again next time, it's too cold."

He downed the hot drink in one gulp, then placed the cup on the table and pushed it towards Charles, gesturing for him to pour another cup.

"Don't you like drinking?" Charles smirked, then picked up the teapot and poured the other person another cup of chrysanthemum tea from the archipelago. "Tell me, what were you laughing at me for just now?"

"Just a glimmer of hope," Pazzani said, sticking out his forked tongue. He had drunk the hot tea too quickly and seemed to have burned his tongue. "My adulthood trial has been updated again."

"Didn't we finish that thing last time?" Charles frowned.

"I thought it was done too. After defeating those goblins, the writing on the animal skin changed to 'Report back to the elder.' After seeing that, I thought it would be over after I went back to report. But when I met the elder, he praised me, and when I took out the animal skin again, the writing on it changed again," Pazzani said with a somewhat dejected sigh.

"Is this still a series of quests?" Charles smirked. He had gained a deeper understanding of Shui Yumo's magical abilities: what you consider the end is not the end, but what Demo considers the end is the end.

"What has it become now?" he asked, putting down the animal hide he was holding.

"See for yourself," Pazzani turned around, rummaged through the bag beside him for a moment, took out the animal skin, and placed it on the table.

Instead of immediately grabbing the animal hide, Charles focused his attention on the large bag that the Naga prince had placed on the ground. The bag was made of some kind of animal hide, yet it was completely waterproof. The prince had carried this bag all the way from the Dallen River into the underground river, and the bag seemed to be completely unaffected.

Indeed, the Naga race has existed for thousands of years; they must have some valuable possessions. Sharl shook his head slightly, reached out and picked up Pazzani's animal hide to examine it. "You want me to go hunting with you?"

"Yes," Pazzani nodded, "I don't know what's wrong with Shuiyu Mo, how come my adult trial has this kind of program?"

"Hunting?" Charles put down the animal hide, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. "I guess I should have this guy come with me to explore. That marked location had a dual-sword combat symbol on it. As for why it's called hunting, could we possibly get something good this time?"

"Alright, I was planning to take some people north tomorrow anyway. Since you're going to complete your coming-of-age trial, come along."

"Fine," Pazzani sighed, saying helplessly.

Charles picked up the animal hide letter the Naga elder had given him from the table and continued reading it, asking as he read, "Your elder said he asked you to bring me a copy of Water Language Ink?"

"Hmm," Pazzani rummaged through the package again for a while, then took out a roll of animal hide and a strange bottle.

This bottle looks very old and seems to have a lot of stories to tell.

Pazzani placed the bottle and the animal hide on the table, then stretched out his webbed hand and said, "It's all here."

"This bottle and the animal hide?"

"Ah, the animal hide is the skin of a sea monster from the past, and the bottle is just a very ordinary pottery bottle made by humans, it's just that it's been around for a long time," Pazzani said, shrugging.

Charles's lips twitched, then he picked up the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and examined the black liquid inside. "Does this stuff require some kind of special pen?"

"No need, a regular pen will do."

Charles immediately picked up a human quill from the table, dipped it in water-language ink, and prepared to write on the animal hide.

After thinking for a few seconds, he quickly wrote down:

"How can I get rid of my goblin appearance?"

On the animal hide, the ink gradually resembled small black snakes, constantly connecting and twisting, and soon the writing changed.