Goblin Squad (I)

Member: Volt

Position: Sniper

Hobbies: None

Special skill: Aiming at the eyes

Volt reserved all his fervor for the moment his prey was sniped. —Nathanos the Witherer

What's so special about a sniper's eyes?

Find the prey faster than anyone else. If that's your answer, then congratulations, you're wrong, you've made the same mistake as Volt.

I still remember the disappointed look on the Witherer's face when he heard those words; Volt must have seen them too. Then, he disappeared that very day, and no one knew where he went, but where could he go in the Wailing Caverns? There was only desert and sand here. Yet he was gone for several days, and at the time, the Salamander and I both thought he had given up.

"Volt will never run away."

This is what the master said when we told him about it. Uh... well, it seems Volt's disappearance was deliberately arranged by the master. He must have gone to do some secret training.

Five days later, at Dusk, the Pendulum was about to test the power of the latest MCK-1417 time bomb. I was helping him record the data. The explosion was a success, creating a large crater in the desert. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder.

Perhaps guided by the sound of the explosion, the Salamander found us and told us that Volt had returned, bringing back some... indescribable things.

Seeing that the Salamander's eyes couldn't reveal anything, I basically ruled out cookies and gold coins, Goblins's favorites.

He did indeed bring back something incredible—three small suitcases, each filled with bullets, which, incidentally, were sticky and covered in a strange liquid that smelled like cookies made from a mixture of dead fish and foot bath water.

I'm curious how Volt managed to stand the smell; oh, he was wearing a mask the whole time.

"Is this... a gift for us?" the Salamander asked at the time.

The response was a cold laugh from the owner of the Witherer, but the reason for his laughter wasn't the Salamander's foolish question, but rather the bullets in the briefcase. Well, only the owner present could laugh like that. He picked up a bullet, examining it closely, his fingers becoming stained with that liquid.

"Very good, very good."

The owner left after offering this simple comment, making sure to return the bullet to Volt before he went. We all gathered around curiously, and the leader asked, "What's this, Volt?"

"Bullet."

Pendulum was clearly annoyed by Volt's concealment. "We're not blind. The boss is asking you what's so special about the bullets."

"Nothing special, just taken from corpses. All sorts of corpses..." He pointed to his eyes, "...the same spot."

We were stunned. I suddenly remembered my master's earlier question: What's so special about a sniper's eyes?

Now Volt knows the answer, and so do I: when hunting, always keep your eyes on the prey.

Members: Shali

Position: Investigator

Hobby: Cookies

Special skill: Stealing things while carrying out missions.

Sand is good; it fills the world, unnoticed, yet it can see into everyone's secrets. — Nathanos the Witherer. (Note: Origin of the code name "Shali.")

Shali, the only thing I can't aim at.

I hate sand, not just for the reason mentioned above, but also because sand makes me completely exposed. For a sniper, revealing one's position is very dangerous.

But the others got along well with Shali; he was witty and sociable. The Salamander complained that Shali had earned double his salary last month simply by flattering his owner.

Perhaps I was braver than the Salamander, directly expressing my dissatisfaction to the owner of the Witherer. I hadn't considered the consequences; I was simply telling the truth, and thus prepared for all sorts of punishments on the way. To my surprise, the owner agreed with my statement, but on one condition: Shali and I had to carry out a mission. Success would result in Shali receiving double his wages.

The mission was simple: go to Kezan and kill a trade tycoon, I forget whether his name was Malti or Maldes.

We drifted at sea for three days before reaching the vicinity of the Maelstrom. When we arrived in Kezan, Shali asked me if I had any plans. I shook my head, indicating that I didn't want to talk, but he misinterpreted my meaning.

"Great, now listen to me."

I don't want to hear it, you idiot.

I was checking my sniper rifle while trying to block out the sound of the Shali. But his words had a magical power, slowly drawing my attention.

"I have detailed information about Malti here. He's a cautious tycoon who practically controls a large area of the quarry in Stranglethorn Vale."

Recently, Venture Company has been preparing the weapons needed for the Forsaken to build the Death Knight Legion, and now I know why Malti is on his master's death list.

"Forget it, there's no point in saying so much. Let's just get straight to the point. I'll lure him out. Wait for my signal, then you can shoot him dead."

"So... how will you escape?" I wanted to ask that question, but I held back. At that moment, I had already decided that if Shali couldn't get away, my bullets would save him from the enemy's torture.

Before the plan began, we learned that Malti had been betrayed by his men during a banquet for his daughter; almost all of his trusted followers had been bribed by a Goblins named Jastor Gallywix. He lost most of his business, but the quarries in Stranglethorn Vale remained under his control.

Poor guy.

Shali now had an excuse to approach him. He disguised himself as a worker from Stranglethorn Vale and spread false news that the quarry had been attacked by pirates. That usually cautious and self-controlled idiot ran out of the villa like a madman, exposed to my sniper rifle. His daughter, Neesha, followed behind.

The trading magnate Malti grabbed at the Shali and shook it violently, shouting something. He seemed very concerned about the last of his businesses.

My position was high up, a good 700 yards from Malti, but that distance sometimes caused problems—I couldn't hear what they were saying.

All I could see was Malti's expression shift from worry to relaxation. Then that old guy actually gave Shali a gold coin! The other guy was about to die, and my partner was still exploiting him.

"Get out of my way, Shali," I muttered to Shali in front of my target. It's not that a sniper rifle can't hit its prey; in fact, I had my sights set on the trade tycoon's eye, but a slight miscalculation could have injured Shali. Looking back, I truly regretted it. Why did I even care about that guy's life or death?

Wait for my signal, then you shoot him dead.

I remembered what the Shali had said and kept waiting. Until I saw Malti's expression turn terrified again, accompanied by two vigilant guards and a deathly pale Neesha.

The Shali in front of the scope was laughing loudly, and Malti had already looked in my direction. That idiot, he revealed my presence to intimidate the old Goblins. I imagined what might happen next: the bodyguards would block Malti's way, or Malti would turn and hide in the villa. Either way, my sniping would fail.

I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled the trigger and completed another sniper shot. Malti lay dead in a pool of blood.

The rest was left to the Shali. He quickly dealt with the bodyguards, leaving only Neesha.

This fool, after killing her father, suddenly became a gentleman. While Neesha was still in shock, he kissed the back of her hand and stroked her cheek. Very well, he took Neesha's ring and exquisite hair clip—one of the few valuable things she possessed.

Mission accomplished. Shali ran to the designated location to meet me. I didn't leave my sniping position for the time being, keeping an eye out for any potential threats along the way. He waved to me from a distance, as if to say: Nice to work with you.

Only then did I understand what he meant when he said, "Wait for my signal, then you can shoot him dead."

Foolish man, isn't he worried that my gun might go off accidentally?

Then I thought about it, and of course he wasn't worried, because even the best sniper can't aim at Shali. Thinking about this suddenly made me very angry, but my master's promise quickly put my mind at ease.

Member: Salamander

Position: Firepower Support

Hobbies: Weapons

Special skill: Weapon improvement

The Goblins squad is a unified entity; they may occasionally separate, but they are never alone, for the Salamander stands behind them. —Nathanos the Witherer

Member: Pendulum

Position: Explosives Expert

Hobbies: Trading

Specialty: Balancing interests

If Pendulum hadn't joined the Goblins squad, he would surely have become a trading tycoon. —Shali

His mind is quite peculiar; if misused, it could become a major problem. I'm glad he's willing to obey my orders. —Nathanos the Witherer

"My owl's flight lasted more than three minutes this time," the Salamander muttered to itself, as it walked along, fiddling with the springs under the mechanical owl's feet.

Pendulum walked ahead, glancing back at its companions every now and then. As the only female member of the team, the Salamander was sometimes too lively, easily attracting attention.

"You'd better put your invention away, or someone will steal it soon."

"Why?" the Salamander asked. "Do the people in Free Town like to steal things?"

"It's a lawless place," the Pendulum replied. "There's only one rule: you're either ruthless or you're bullied. There's no third option."

"Looks like a big commotion is about to break out. Luckily, I brought my electromagnetic mines and M79 large-caliber manual cannons."

"Stop! Are you crazy? Our master told us to keep a low profile and not to forget our mission. We're here to collect debts, not to kill people."

"How can you collect debts if you don't defeat your opponent?"

"Use language, understand? And brains too."

"You know that sounds really rude, right?" The Salamander rolled its eyes at the Pendulum. "Whatever, I'm just providing cover fire anyway."

"You know that's good. Let me handle the important matters," said the Pendulum, watching the setting sun and realizing that the time for the transaction was approaching.

Free Town seemed to have been emptied out today, with only the sound of the wind. The moment Pendulum and Salamander stepped inside, they felt as if hundreds of eyes were watching them. Meanwhile, the person they were looking for was swaggering around, drinking in the town's central open-air tavern. He seemed completely unconcerned, merely scoffing at the approaching debt collectors.

"Hello, Captain Norton. Looks like you're doing quite well," Pendulum said, observing the numerous guards surrounding Norton. They were almost all his crew members, each wielding a sword, a total of thirty-seven men. No wonder Norton wasn't nervous at all.

The Salamander was calculating whether it had enough ammunition to repel so many people.

"If you're here to collect a debt, then your master should have sent someone much more powerful," Norton laughed loudly, patting the small wooden box in front of him. The Pendulum could already smell the gold coins inside.

"Since you've already prepared the money, please give it to me."

A jeer of laughter erupted from Norton's throat. Free Town suddenly became lively.

"I'm not joking, Captain Norton. Since you've purchased our cannons and ammunition, you should pay a considerable amount of gold. I don't think you're short of money, after all, you just robbed a Stormwind City merchant ship."

Norton choked on his drink, which he hadn't even finished. How had the Goblins's story reached their ears so quickly? The portly Kul Tiras quickly regained his composure and shouted, "What can you do to me if I don't give it to you?"

He'd seen plenty of people like this. Pendulum sneered inwardly. From stepping onto the Strait of Tiragarde to Free Town, everything that was about to happen was within his calculations. Norton actually thought he could renege on his debt to the Forsaken?

"Then you'll have to pay a price. After all, paying off the debt doesn't necessarily have to be done with gold coins; it can be done with something more valuable, like your life!"

"Do you know whose territory this is, Goblins? You think the two of you can take down my guards?"

"Speaking of them..." The Pendulum's gaze shifted to the guards, "They really have it tough. While you're drinking and eating in the back, they have to be careful and watch out for anyone who poses a threat to you. Maybe that's their job, but as employees, what do they get in return? Do you pay them overtime?"

"Overtime pay?" Norton stared at the Pendulum with a sneer. "I'm their captain. I don't need overtime pay to drive them. All I need is an order."

"What about insurance? You're sure you can handle their aftermath, right?"

Before they knew it, Pendulum and Norton had started talking, though they had clearly gone off-topic. The Salamander, taking advantage of the remaining time, recalculated a safer escape route, so they could still run if the negotiations broke down.

"Where do pirates get insurance?"

"Ah, I see. They are paid very well; you must be a generous captain."

"I am indeed very generous, giving them 3 gold coins a year!"

The Salamander turned around immediately upon hearing the number. That miser! She really wanted to rush over and check if a Goblins was hiding beneath Norton's skin. A pirate earning three gold coins a year—that was cheap labor.

"I see!"

The Pendulum's tone suddenly changed, losing its previous flattering quality. The Salamander realized the real show was just beginning. Her companion pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and waved it in front of everyone. "Remember this? Your bill! You owe one hundred and eight gold coins."

Norton narrowed his eyes. If he gave the order, everyone would rush up and chop the little greenskin to pieces. But the captain suddenly became interested and wanted to see how the Goblins would collect their debts.

"How about we make a new deal?"

Tell me about it.

"As long as your men can raise the amount owed, I will not only repay the debt, but also give you an extra hundred gold coins."

Everyone present was undoubtedly shocked by this new wager. Only the Salamander remained clear-headed. She was also Goblins, with a business mind, and realized that the wager proposed by the Pendulum was an invisible weapon of death.