This is a Gretchin who's only about 1.2 meters tall, skin and bones, and wearing tattered clothes.
Its face was filthy, but its eyes were bright, revealing a shrewdness unique to Gretchin.
The most eye-catching thing is the "teeth necklace" hanging around its neck.
If you look closely, you'll see that they are imitation Orks teeth, made from some kind of yellow stone.
The Gretchin released his arm and began berating Lynn.
"Aren't you stupid?!"
Its accent was strange, its Gothic speech was incoherent, but Lynn could barely understand it.
"That's Muscle Squig's territory, what are you doing going in there!"
It gestured wildly as it spoke, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation through body language.
"Those guys are really violent; they'll run into anyone they see!"
It swallowed hard halfway through its sentence.
"But the taste is also very good. I've tried it once, and it's so delicious!"
Lynn looked down at the little thing that was only about half his height and scratched the back of his head.
He then said, "Thank you."
Toothy was stunned.
It has lived for so long and has never been thanked by any "big guy".
In Orks society, Gretchin is a punching bag, cannon fodder, and a disposable commodity that can be sacrificed at any time.
No Orks will thank Gretchin.
They will only be scolded, beaten, and thrown out as cannon fodder and bait.
But this huge guy in front of me actually thanked me?
"Hey-hey..."
A flattered smile appeared on Toothy's face.
Then it straightened its shriveled chest and began to introduce itself.
My name is Toothy!
In a Orks society, teeth are hard currency.
It pointed to the dentures around its neck and gestured excitedly.
"Look at my necklace! These are my spoils of war! Each one represents an enemy I defeated!"
As it spoke, it brandished its teeth and claws, striking various fighting poses.
Although those poses made it look more like a clown performing.
Lynn looked at the dentures carefully, but remained silent.
Those "teeth" were clearly made of stone; they were all the same size and shape, obviously mass-produced "decorative items."
The nature of the gold necklaces was similar to those worn by the fake big brothers in his previous life.
But Toothy spoke very seriously, her eyes shining with pride.
"My dream!"
It continued, straightening its back and trying to make itself look taller.
"It's about becoming the richest Gretchin!"
"When I have lots and lots of teeth, I'm going to buy tons of Squig meat and eat it three times a day! I'm also going to drive the coolest tank ever!"
It looked at Lynn, its eyes full of longing.
Do you think I can achieve my dream?
Lynn glanced at the skinny Gretchin and nodded casually.
"Hmm, I think it's fine."
He suddenly realized that this undercover mission might be more interesting than he had imagined.
"What's your name?" Toothy asked happily.
Lynn paused for a moment; he hadn't thought about that question before.
He looked at his hands, pondered the new clan's positioning, and what he needed to do next.
So he came up with a name.
" Seven-Smasha," he said. "My name is Seven-Smasha."
After thinking for a moment, he added, almost as if possessed:
"My dream is to create a brand new clan and become the strongest warboss!"
Toothy listened to Lynn's lofty ideals and found it hard to believe.
This strange-looking guy actually has such ambitions?
But then it nodded seriously.
"Hmm! You have great ambition!"
It actually believed it.
Lynn never expected that this Gretchin would actually believe such a casual boast.
But Toothy's expression was very serious.
In its view, what's wrong with a guy who dares to enter Muscle Squig's territory wanting to be a warboss?
I can even dream of being the richest Gretchin.
"Then you can follow me!" It patted the withered chest.
"I've got your back!"
Lynn stared silently at the Gretchin who was only half his height.
But he nodded nonetheless.
"Good."
Perhaps because she didn't expect Lynn to actually agree, Toothy seemed very excited.
Through the system, Lynn saw that Toothy's favorability rating had increased from 2 to 8 points.
This is also the source of Lynn's confidence.
Even without binding him to a romance target, he can still see the favorability ratings of some weaker targets.
He believed that as long as he gained enough favor with the Orks individuals, he could become a "real Orks " individual.
So Lynn began living a " Orks " life with Toothy.
To be precise, it's a life of Gretchin.
There were no battles, no grand schemes being plotted; it was just pure drifting through life.
Empty your mind like a newborn Gretchin, observe, learn, and adapt.
This was much more difficult than he had imagined.
In his previous life, he was a Warhammer enthusiast, and his understanding of the Orks mostly came from books and Dataslate.
He knew they loved to fight, loved to waggle, and loved to paint everything in various colors, because that would give them all sorts of effects.
But once he was actually there, he realized that theory is always superficial.
The world of the Orks has a complete set of logic, but it's completely different from that of humans.
They disregard efficiency and rules, and they don't follow anything that humans consider "normal."
However, their logic is self-consistent.
Might makes right, and whoever is the strongest is the boss.
Lynn needs to understand the world before she can change it.
So he obediently followed Toothy, becoming a little Gretchin.
Toothy also pretended to show his new underling around the area.
From Toothy, Lynn learned about the basic situation of the ranch.
This ranch is basically inhabited only by Gretchin and Squig.
The top leadership consisted of a large, disabled Orks overseer, along with a small number of Ork Boyz.
The foreman rarely shows his face; it's said he only comes out once a week to collect the "teeth" and then goes back.
The daily operations are entirely managed by the Gretchin," forming a strange, self-sufficient ecosystem.
Like most Orks societies, this place also has cliques and factions.
The various Gretchin gangs are vying for the easiest, most lucrative jobs, or the most fertile plots in Squig.
Wherever there are people, there is a world of its own; it's just that this world of its own is governed by the rules of the Orks (a derogatory term for a group of people).
Whoever has the hardest fist and the most henchmen will occupy the best territory.
The park where Lynn and Toothy is specifically responsible for raising Muscle Squig.
They are the most temperamental, dangerous, and difficult breed to care for.
Those muscular creatures will charge at anyone they see; keeping them requires constant vigilance to avoid being attacked.
According to Toothy, it has personally witnessed at least ten Gretchin being trampled to death by Muscle Squig.
Gretchin from other areas would avoid this place, afraid of being targeted by those Muscle Squig.
Lynn deduced from this that Toothy's social status must be very low.
"Let me tell you," Toothy said as she walked, lecturing Lynn with a proud air of someone who had been there.
"The boss here is ' Lao Cantui,' he used to be a big guy."
"Later, his leg was blown off in a battle with shrimp, and he was thrown in to be a foreman."
It lowered its voice and said mysteriously:
"I heard it used to be really powerful; it could take on ten shrimp by itself."
"Even though it's lame now, with just that one leg that's not broken, it can still kick a Gretchin one by one. You absolutely mustn't mess with it."
Lynn nodded. In the world of the Orks, reputation is just as important as raw power.
"It doesn't really help, but it comes to collect the 'teeth' once a month."
Those who don't pay enough will be thrown into the Shark-Maw Squig Circle.
Toothy spoke, she shivered, as if recalling some unpleasant memory.
Lynn asked, "Then how can we get out of here?"