NOVEL NEXT Chapter 147: The Intruder!
'Intruders!'
The word slammed into Peach's brain like a war drum, echoing so loud he almost jumped out of his own skin.
His first thought, his very first, panicked, knee-jerk instinct, was to scream, "Heroes!"
Because what else could it be? Only the heroes were dumb enough to sneak into a goblin stronghold this deep.
But then, he froze. No, no, wait. That didn't make sense.
Peach took a dramatic, shaky breath and started pacing, because pacing helped thinking, and thinking helped panic feel organized.
He had intel. Precious, hard-earned, expensive intel, stolen from both goblins and humans alike.
And none of it, none of it, said anything about the heroes having super-speed, or invisibility, or whatever ridiculous nonsense was happening right now.
"Yeah… no. Nope. Not them. Couldn't be. If it was them, half the bunker would already be on fire, someone would be shouting about friendship, and I'd probably be dead."
So, logically, this had to be an accident.
Yes, that was it. A horrible, confusing, impossible accident.
"My safest bet… safest bet is the control room!"
Peach declared aloud, as though the empty hallway needed to hear it.
He nodded furiously to himself, like that settled it.
"I should go there! Should go there!"
And just to make sure he'd fully convinced himself, he repeated it one more time while jogging down the hall.
"Control room! Control room! Control room!"
The control room was the brain, the heart, the soul of the bunker, the one place where Peach could see everything happening, lock every door, and pretend he was still in charge even if he wasn't.
So naturally, he sprinted toward it at top speed, cape flapping behind him dramatically even though there was no one around to appreciate the effect.
...
Meanwhile, in the same bunker, Adrian was being… well, Adrian.
The guy wasn't just running — he was conducting a one-man circus.
He was deliberately leaping into groups of goblins like some unhinged, chaos-loving rabbit, scattering them like bowling pins, watching them scream and fumble with their weapons, then laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach before darting away again.
Every corner was a new opportunity to cause trouble.
He'd jump out, scare them, shout nonsense, then vanish like a demonic prankster leaving only fear and confusion in his wake.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Adrian laughed like a Saturday morning cartoon villain, waving his arms for extra dramatic flair.
"I am not alone, you know! My friends- yes, plural, friends! — have already penetrated your defenses!"
He jumped onto a table for no reason except to look taller.
"They are right now at your most secret area!"
He pointed in a random direction, didn't matter which, and struck a heroic pose like some deranged prophet.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! You can't catch them at all!"
Then, before anyone could react, he leaped off the table, ran between two goblins...
Of course he was hoping for them to get caught.
Hoping? No, praying. If there was a God still listening, Adrian was ready to donate a goat, a cow, maybe his entire right arm if it meant Melissa failed miserably.
He didn't want her to succeed. Not even a little. In fact, if she tripped over her own feet, broke her nose, and got dragged out of here by goblins while screaming about justice, he'd probably clap.
'Like, what is this mission even about?'
He still had no clue. Zero. Not even a crumb of a clue.
If Melissa was looking for the Goblin King, just because Celeste said she sensed the guy was alive, then Melissa was running in circles so hard she could probably dig a hole straight to the center of the earth by accident.
Because, hello? The real Goblin King was right there. With her. Playing tagalong like some weird field trip chaperone.
'If this is another one of her stupid missions, whatever it is, I hope it fails so hard it becomes a cautionary tale.'
He could almost picture it, a public service announcement about the dangers of dragging the actual target along while you hunt him.
'Like seriously… she must be an idiot. Who in their right mind brings the Goblin King to a "Find and Kill the Goblin King" adventure?'
'What's the endgame here? Give him front row seats to his own assassination?'
Adrian rubbed his temples, as if that might massage some logic into the situation.
'And why is that damn goblin king even here?'
'If he's sabotaging his own bunker, his own precious, secret, "no humans allowed" bunker, what is he even getting out of this?'
The thought hung there, festering in his brain like a bad smell.
Adrian couldn't find an answer. Not a real one.
Money? Power? Revenge? A midlife crisis?
'What could he possibly want that's worth risking his army and his secret lair? What's the payoff? A gold medal? A pat on the back? Free therapy?'
The only explanation that made even a sliver of sense was also the dumbest one.
'Is human pussy really that good?'
Adrian blinked, deadpan.
'Like… good enough that you'd throw away your entire army, your kingdom, your evil underground lair, all for a chance at some?'
He shook his head, almost impressed.
'If so… damn. Respect.'
Adrian quickly glanced back at the horde of screaming, green-skinned lunatics, all of them charging like they had just been promised free beer and a human leg to chew on.
He spread his palms and, with a flash of heat, a spray of fire erupted forward.
It washed over the goblins in a blazing arc, the first few in line screeching, stumbling, and doing that wonderful "I'm-on-fire-but-too-dumb-to-stop-drop-and-roll" dance.
The rest froze just long enough for Adrian to catch his breath and buy himself a few seconds of precious time.
Of course, he wasn't actually worried about dying here.
Okay, scratch that, he was worried, but in a distant, "filed under later" kind of way.
Despite the overwhelming number of goblins, they were all just Level 30-somethings, barely above cannon fodder. Adrian, sitting pretty at Level 47, was basically a boss fight to them. A terrifying, sexy boss fight with fire magic.
Still, that didn't mean he was invincible. If they dogpiled him, it was game over.
'Stronger doesn't mean immortal, guys.'
He thought bitterly, flinging another jet of fire just to make sure they stayed back.
He could only kill so many before their sheer numbers overwhelmed him, and he was not about to end up buried under a pile of sweaty goblin corpses.
Not today. His whole strategy here was simple: don't get caught, don't get murdered, keep running, and look cool while doing it.
Easy.
Maybe.
Back to his original train of thought, if you could even call this flaming disaster of a situation "thinking time," Adrian was starting to believe that the Goblin King's master plan wasn't actually a master plan at all.
No, the guy just… wanted to stay chained up, get bossed around by a hot human girl, screw her brains out, and call it a day.
Honestly? Adrian could almost respect that.
'Like… could that really be it? Is this whole goblin uprising just the world's dumbest sex quest?'
It was plausible. Too plausible.
'Oh God. Is this guy really sacrificing his entire army just to play pet-and-owner with Melissa and others? Is this… is this really happening?'
Adrian ducked behind a pillar, threw another burst of flame just to keep the mob busy, and shook his head like he could shake the mental image out of existence.
'Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that. Not thinking about the Goblin King getting pegged or whatever weird arrangement he has in mind. Focus, Adrian.'
He peeked back at the goblins, grinned as a few of them tripped over their charred friends, and got ready to move again.
'Is Alice's and Lyra's and now Melissa's pussy really that great?'
Adrian swallowed hard — literally. His throat clicked, his mouth watered, and he was suddenly very aware of how unfair life was.
He wanted them. Oh, he wanted them bad. But of course, as long as that stupid, smelly, glorified-green-slimeball of a Goblin King was still breathing, he could kiss that dream goodbye.
'But that's fine. That's okay. That's perfectly fine,' he told himself, nodding as though this pep talk was actually working.
'When the prince and the priest finally drag their pompous royal behinds here with their shiny little army, the Goblin King is going to get flattened. Squashed. Perished. Erased from existence like a bad drawing. And then… heh heh heh… then I will get my reward.'
The image of Melissa biting her lip flashed through his mind, and Adrian nearly tripped over his own feet.
Focus.
He ducked under a spear that whooshed past his face, so close he could smell the iron.
The hulking goblin holding it grinned, just long enough for Adrian to raise a hand to the side and jab him right in the family jewels.
The goblin immediately folded like a cheap lawn chair.
'Yeah, that's what you get for swinging at my face, buddy.'
He leapt over the now-groaning heap of goblin agony and scanned the hallway ahead, his thoughts racing faster than his feet.