---Third POV---
"Ah... Biological weapons?!" Apple and Thor exclaimed in unison.
"That's right!" Lux crossed her arms, her chin slightly raised. Her voice carried an unmistakable tone of pride.
"I've been observing for a while. Goblins have a backward way of living, and they don't even bother to clean up battlefields. Besides the player corpses we took, all the goblin corpses are just piled up below, completely ignored. In such hot weather, with terrible sanitary conditions and frequent population movement… the fact that they haven't triggered a plague yet is proof of their robust constitution."
"So, I decided to give them a little push!"
Lux curved her eyebrows into a smile, baring eight teeth. The sight made Thor feel a chill in his heart.
Bang!
The corpse, after tumbling in the air for a while, landed on a few unlucky goblins who had just come to provide reinforcements. The impact created a massive noise loud enough for even the players to hear.
What followed was chaos.
From the sounds of it, the grotesque state of the corpse and the overwhelming stench had driven the goblins into a frenzy. The subsequent waves of goblins avoided the incident site entirely and continued rushing toward Lux and her team.
Apple and Thor, watching this unfold, were left with their mouths agape in an "O" shape. Lux stood up from behind the bushes.
"Plan successful! The goblins didn't deal with the corpse immediately, and it'll be too late to do anything about it now."
"Perfect execution! Let's move!"
Just as she turned to leave, a small bomb placed beneath the catapult detonated successfully.
The wooden catapult was blown to smithereens.
The germ-infested catapult could no longer be used, but this convenient tool also couldn't be left for the goblins—better to destroy it outright.
Apple and Thor wanted to keep watching, but other players dragged them away. On the way back to Honeyvale Town, they learned more details about the biological weapon plan.
For instance, Lux proudly flaunted her expertise. Hot weather was already a breeding ground for bacteria.
While she didn't know exactly what kind of bacteria the goblins could resist, the primeval forest certainly didn't lack diseased wild animals!
After testing multiple strains, success was inevitable.
To make the bacteria even more potent, she specifically selected the corpse of a larger and tougher goblin.
Multiple strains of bacteria, plus a corpse. Sealed in a hot and humid bag to ferment for several days. Even Lux couldn't predict its full destructive potential.
"Isn't… isn't this a bit too destructive?" Apple still couldn't close his gaping jaw.
He felt that this wouldn't just wipe out the goblins.
LootGoblin, captives, and nearby wildlife in the goblin nest… all of them might suffer as collateral damage!
Lux shot him a disdainful look.
"That's why I only prepared one corpse."
Apple twitched his mouth. "Fair enough."
"Why are you so surprised? Poison tactics are common on battlefields, aren't they?"
She tilted her head in confusion.
Ever since Apple and Thor realized what was inside the green balloons, they'd been keeping as much distance from her as possible.
Was her method that shocking?
Thor climbed a large tree near the teleportation array, his expression complicated.
"Not really. We just thought such an underhanded tactic would come from someone else."
This kind of morally questionable idea seemed more likely to be suggested by some scheming, shady player. Lux, on the other hand... Her coming up with it was beyond their expectations.
"What's morally questionable about this?"
"Goblins have been sacrificing people to demons for ages, killing who knows how many, and they even like to torture captives. What I'm doing is delivering justice!"
A nearby player whispered into Thor's ear.
"Don't listen to her nonsense. She just got emotional after rescuing those three NPCs."
Thor leaned back dramatically, his face lighting up with understanding.
"So that's it…"
Revenge for NPCs using real money? Impressive!
He squeezed into the tree's narrow hollow.
"By the way, how did you even move that catapult up here? There aren't any bacteria left on the teleportation array, are there?"
"We didn't use the teleportation array."
"… Well, that's fine then."
---Viktor's POV---
The reagent bottle in my hand nearly slipped. I stared at the player delivering the message, utterly stunned.
"Say that again. You said you threw what into the ruins?"
"Uh… a goblin corpse—or rather, an infection source?" The player repeated nervously.
Although I'm often portrayed as a villainous undead in other game narratives, in this game's lore, The Watchers were the epitome of justice and righteousness. The messenger probably thought I wouldn't get mad and punish him.
Honestly, I was just as shocked by the news. I'd been slightly busy the past two days and had loosened my supervision over the players. And now, they'd stirred up this much trouble?!
"Wait a second. Cultivating bacteria is as hard as making an antidote. How did you even manage that?"
"Lord Viktor, don't you remember? The two magical skills you gave us?"
Prompted by the reminder, I recalled the rewards I had handed out to MemeKnight.
"…"
So, I had unintentionally played a role in this? I sat back and reattached the slightly dislocated bones in my hand.
"Fine, whatever. It's not your fault. You can go now."
"Got it!"
The player ran off joyfully, as if being chased.
I stared at the workbench filled with potions and various magical materials and let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Can't they give me a break?"
Was it so hard to show some kindness to a centenarian? I had never missed Edgar as much as I did now. If he were still around, he would've noticed the players' antics immediately, and I wouldn't have to worry at all.
Goblins were called the most loyal servants of the demonkind—untameable, vengeful, and highly reproductive. I had never intended to let a single goblin escape. But the players' execution of the plan... was way too extreme.
After another deep sigh, I resigned myself to my fate and logged into the admin account to monitor the players' frontline perspectives.
"Whoa, did you just see that? Such a bright green explosion!"
"That's not fireworks; the cesspit exploded, didn't it? I could smell it from miles away!"
"Who is causing this mess? Look, the goblins are trampling through it! Ugh, disgusting!"
"Let's head back—I need to check the forums!"
Hearing their chatter, my numbness deepened. Fine. The damage was already done. The next combat strategies would need a massive overhaul.
I opened the mission board and issued an announcement warning all players about the abnormal conditions in the goblin nest. Players who didn't want to die shouldn't head to the front lines. And if they did die, other players shouldn't bring their corpses back.
All ambush missions were canceled. Psychological warfare would take precedence, and preparations for the final battle would be prioritized. I ordered large-scale stockpiling of potions and other logistical supplies, while weapon orders were postponed.
Finally, I synced the announcement to the forums. After all, there was still one player stuck in the goblin nest, unable to update the game.
By the time I had finished, it felt like I had drafted an entirely new questline.
At this point... I leaned on my desk, exhausted, reflecting on the situation.
"You really can't let your guard down for even a second."
I had thought that the lawful and good-aligned players I had carefully selected would be a little more peaceful.
But now? These people all had double lives!
Thankfully, I had anticipated potential conflicts among the players.
I spent 100 divine power to implement a system: players would automatically lose SAN value when engaging in infighting, and those who lost too many would be kicked out of the game for two days to cool off.
The first major incident, while chaotic, was at least directed outward.
Brewing potions was no longer viable.
I opened the forum and activated the admin surveillance function, planning to thoroughly investigate player actions to prevent another "Absolute Disaster" scenario.
It was going to be a massive undertaking.
"On the bright side, with all the trouble they've caused me, the goblin nest must be in complete disarray by now," I consoled myself.
---Third POV---
Indeed, it was.
At the scene of the biological weapon deployment, the goblins didn't think much of it initially. Their habit of bathing no more than once a month by the river was enough evidence of their high tolerance for filthy environments.
But things started to go wrong that evening.
A goblin injured by a falling corpse began developing red spots on its skin, and the wound turned black.
At first, only a few goblins showed these symptoms, which caused mild itching. Even the affected goblins themselves didn't think much of it.
But by the next morning, the number of goblins with rashes had grown to dozens. The symptoms of the initial few worsened—they suffered from severe headaches, and their wounds turned dark purple. The red spots developed blisters, which oozed yellow pus, eventually turning into ulcers.
On the third day, the first infected goblin died, and the second-day victims showed the same symptoms as those who had died. Even an elite goblin began showing signs of the rash.
Finally, the upper ranks took notice.
In the meeting room, Glogg slammed the stone table, leaving two cracks. His eyes burned with fury.
"Damn it! What the hell is this disease? We can't control it! They're not human! They're demons!"
The sudden outbreak of this "rash disease" had disrupted the lives of the elite goblins, leaving them no time to maintain any pretense of composure.
Their bloodshot eyes turned beast-like as they vented their rage, smashing everything in the room and hurling accusations at one another.
"It's your fault! You were supposed to lead the patrol three days ago! The humans are swarming outside, and you expect me to patrol alone?! If Yoruba got infected, we're all next! Who are these humans?!"
Mizra clenched the corner of the table, crushing it like tofu, her gaze icy cold.
"Fearless, relentless, and cunning… They—they can't be human!"
What kind of intelligent species could possess all three of these traits?! Unlike Glogg's outbursts, she genuinely believed their opponents weren't human.
The human towns were preoccupied with the winter tides—how could so many human forces suddenly emerge, meddling in the Great Oak Forest?
Her gaze filled with dread.
"Could it be… they're working for some powerful entity relocating to this area?!"
Her suggestion froze the room in silence. Then the bickering erupted again, even more intense.
"She's right! Only an envoy of a deity could lead this many humans into the Great Oak Forest!"
"Someone who can project multiple avatars and spread disease? At least a Level 2 deity!"
"Are two divine envoys fighting over territory?!"
The wild speculation spiraled, scaring even themselves.
Finally, Hassan slammed his staff onto the ground.
"Quiet! We're here to discuss solutions, not relocation!"
The noise subsided, though he was visibly irritated. Fortunately, his newly appointed confidant understood his thoughts better than anyone else.
With a kind smile, he turned to the goblin seated to his right.
"Child, what do you think?"
"Me?" LootGoblin snapped out of his daydream, standing blankly with his mind a complete blank.
Goblin meetings felt more like kids squabbling—98% pointless chatter mixed with 2% useful information. It was so dull that he'd completely tuned out and hadn't the faintest idea what the boss had just asked.
His brain worked overtime.
"Uh, I think… regardless of who the enemy is, our priority should be to cure this disease."
Based on what he'd learned about goblins over the past few days, that answer should be safe. Sure enough, Hassan beamed with approval.
"What a clever child."
The divine blessing hadn't granted LootGoblin muscles, but it had given him intelligence surpassing even elite goblins. His choice was proving correct.
Meanwhile, LootGoblin cringed beneath his mud shell.
Spending so much time with these low-IQ goblins made compliments feel like insults. And it wasn't even bragging—getting into the goblin upper ranks was embarrassingly easy.
All he did was say a few high-EQ phrases and hand Hassan a cup of water during a meeting. Somehow, he'd ended up with permanent access to their strategy sessions and earned the priest's trust.
After his suggestion, the other goblins nodded in sudden realization.
"Right!"
"We can't let another Yoruba incident happen!" Mizra, however, frowned, her face scrunched in deep thought.
"But we don't have any clerics. And getting a cure from those strange humans is nearly impossible."
These enemies were the most terrifying creatures she'd ever encountered! From the start, she'd ordered the capture of a human for interrogation. But the attackers were utterly fearless.
Forget transporting them to the inner zone for questioning—even tying them up was impossible. They all found ways to kill themselves before being restrained.
Their calm acceptance of death sent shivers down the goblins' spines.
Mizra concluded decisively, "This disease is incurable!"
"Who says it's incurable?" LootGoblin retorted.
"We might not have clerics among the goblins, but surely there's someone among the pri—no, the sacrifices, who knows medicine?"
Another elite goblin disagreed. "But the sacrifices won't help us!"
"How do you know without trying?" LootGoblin countered.
Over the past few days, he had nearly all the information he needed—except the dungeon layout and the whereabouts of the dwarf craftsman.
The goblins' dungeon had strange formations, and LootGoblin could only explore it for about thirteen minutes daily before the priest noticed. With countless cells to search, his progress had been slow.
Perhaps he could use this opportunity to gain unrestricted access to the dungeon! He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the table, speaking in a coaxing tone.
"What if one of the sacrifices can cure this disease? You don't want to end up rotting like those infected goblins, do you?"