Gun Chapter 38: Survival of the Fittest (Patreon)

Wakasha fired a shot that perfectly deflected the goblin’s downward slash. The impact was so strong that the goblin staggered backward.

“What a waste. That cost me a bullet.”

To Wakasha, that counted as a serious waste. And for a goblin that wasted his bullet, he decided to kindly reward it with another one.

Bang!

As the goblin dropped, Wakasha successfully “loved” it to death.

[Monster Killed: Mutated Goblin. Gained 5 EXP

Talent: Law of the Jungle activated. EXP x10. Actual EXP gained: 50

Concept Armament: Deathbird gained 50 Skill EXP

Spell: Mage Hand gained 50 Skill EXP]

Wakasha looked at the goblins lying all over the ground “taking a nap,” then glanced at his system panel.

Good. Mage Hand had reached level 4.

And his skill point reward had come in as expected.

The next kill milestone was now 1000 monsters, and the reward would be the same type as the 10-monster milestone: randomly draw one ability from one of the monster species he had killed.

That made Wakasha a little excited about what kind of skill he might get.

But that was still a long way off, so he pushed the thought aside for later.

Right now, his attention turned to the three people in front of him.

Wakasha lowered his gun and stood there, his gaze sweeping calmly over the three rookie adventurers who were still frozen in shock.

The wind in the forest carried the mixed smell of blood and rotting leaves. Eight goblins were sprawled across the ground in all directions, and the bullet hole in the last mutated goblin’s forehead was especially eye-catching. Green blood trickled down its coarse skin as it lay there utterly lifeless.

The male adventurer with the iron sword was still stuck in the motion of trying to rush forward. The pain from his reopened wounds made him let out a muffled groan, and he stumbled down to one knee. The bloodstains on his rough clothes deepened even more.

The two female adventurers were still pale. The one holding the bow couldn’t stop trembling, and the spell apprentice’s wooden staff had dropped to the ground with a clatter. Only now had it truly sunk in for them—they were alive.

“Th-thank you...”

The male adventurer raised his head with difficulty, his eyes filled with gratitude and awe as he looked at Wakasha.

He could tell that this boy, who looked even younger than he was, had acted with terrifying decisiveness. That strange “bow” of his fired attacks with unbelievable precision and had cut through the goblins with almost no effort at all. The difference between him and a group of struggling rookies like them was night and day.

Wakasha didn’t answer right away. He only tilted his head slightly and gave the three of them a quick once-over.

Up until now, his attention hadn’t really been on them at all.

The male adventurer looked to be around twenty. His build was average, and there were calluses on his hands from years of sword practice. But his iron sword was visibly rusty, and the cloth outfit he wore offered almost no protection... a former adventurer forced back into the trade because he was broke?

The girl with the short bow looked even younger, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and even her bowstring had gone slack. The other, the spell apprentice, had a timid expression, and the mana fluctuation around her was so weak it was almost negligible. She couldn’t even cast a basic spell steadily.

None of the three wore the emblem of an official adventuring party. Their gear was poor, their coordination clumsy. They were obviously just a temporary team that had come to the outskirts of Chalk Forest to try their luck and earn a little coin, only to run into a goblin ambush shortly after going in.

Wakasha withdrew his gaze. His fingertips brushed lightly over Deathbird’s body, and the pale blue magical lines on it slowly faded, the deadly aura around the muzzle disappearing with them.

He didn’t step forward to help them up. He just stood there and spoke in a tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather.

“You got lucky. There was a mutated type mixed in with that goblin pack. If the one who found you had been even a little faster to kill, the three of you wouldn’t have any bones left by now.”

The male adventurer forced himself up with the iron sword as support. The pain from his wounds made sweat bead across his forehead, but he still bent at the waist in thanks.

“Thank you, sir, for saving us. We... we only wanted to hunt a few low-rank monsters around the outskirts and earn enough to get by for a while. We didn’t expect to run into so many goblins.”

He hesitated, shame and unease in his voice.

“My name is Lenk. This is Lina, and this is Aila.

The three of us are newly registered adventurers. We don’t have a real party—we just put something together temporarily...”

Lina, the girl with the short bow, had finally started to recover from the worst of her fear. She gripped the bow so tightly her fingertips had gone white, then added in a small voice,

“We only wanted to hunt a few beasts or rabbit-beasts. We didn’t even dare go deep into the forest outskirts. Who knew... who knew goblins would be this close to the edge.”

Aila picked up the wooden staff she had dropped and kept her head down, not daring to look at Wakasha.

“My magic is too weak. I can’t even keep a Fireball stable. Just now... just now I was completely useless.”

Wakasha lifted a brow.

Fireball?

That was still a 0-ring spell, but it was much harder than Spark at Fingertip, and it was far more powerful than most other 0-ring spells.

The downside was that it was difficult to learn, and the spell manual only guided the user through learning it once. After that, it depended entirely on the caster.

This girl’s mistake was simple: she had chosen the wrong spell for herself.

Even if she had learned Fireball, it didn’t matter if she couldn’t cast it.

She either had to keep grinding at it until her mana pool and proficiency finally caught up, or spend even more time and money learning other spells to make up for her current weakness.

But neither option was something she could manage in the short term—or with money she didn’t have.

She had some talent, but not enough to let her walk the mage path without obstacles.

The thought passed through Wakasha’s mind in an instant.

“This isn’t really the outer zone anymore.”

He lifted a hand and pointed deeper into the forest behind him.

“You’re at least three hundred meters beyond the safe area marked by the Adventurers’ Guild. Go any farther in, and you’re no longer in ordinary goblin territory.”

Lenk’s face changed immediately.

“We... we were following the map. We thought we were still inside the safe zone.”

“Then your map is from last year.”

Wakasha said it without mercy.

“The monster activity range in Chalk Forest changes every quarter. Didn’t you even bother checking the latest notice on the guild wall before coming in?”

The three of them all fell silent at once, embarrassment written all over their faces.

They were so poor they couldn’t even bring themselves to spend a few copper updating their map, much less pay for the latest monster information at the guild.

For people like them, walking out of the forest alive with a few materials they could sell was already the greatest stroke of luck they could hope for.

Wakasha couldn’t be bothered to lecture them any further.

Pity solved nothing. On this continent, weakness had never once been a reason to be treated gently.