CHAPTER 5: Lanterns in the Dark
"Three days. Bones to gather, debts to dodge, names to protect. Only one shot, little one don't waste it."
December 13th, 2045 | Lunarest Outskirts, Goblin Prison Tent
The Outlaws' hands were rough, mud grinding into Rin's skin as they dragged him across the soaked camp. The rain was coming down in hard sheets now, smacking the back of his neck and running into his rags, cold enough to make his teeth ache. Every step through the churned mud sent his bare goblin toes deep into slime. He stumbled, but they didn't let him fall, just yanked him forward, voices low and humorless.
The fire was almost out behind him, only a few glowing logs left, throwing everyone's shadows huge across the tents and racks of spears. Rin tried to keep his chin up. Nobody was laughing anymore, just a silent judging as he walked.
The war tent wasn't like the rest; it was bigger, its canvas stretched tight over the crooked bones of scavenged wood and snapped pikes. He could smell it before he saw it. Mildew. Rot. The sour stink of piss and blood, old food and wet leather, all of it stewing in the damp. The flap was heavy, armored with a patchwork of dented bucklers and scraps of chainmail. One Outlaw grunted, kicked him hard enough in the calf to send him stumbling forward next to an iron ring set in the mud.
One grabbed his ankle, slapped a rusted shackle around it, and snapped the lock shut without a word before walking out, letting the flap fall behind with a slap that left Rin in darkness.
He sucked in a breath, tried to blink the rain from his lashes, but the tent was barely lit, just a guttering lantern in one corner, its glass blackened and cracked, leaking out more smoke than light. It glowed blue on the puddles underfoot, made every shadow crawl. The canvas walls were filthy, streaked with old blood, names scratched in with knives, most already crossed out with angry slashes. Iron rings were hammered into the dirt floor, thick chains trailing from each one, stained black with rust and worse.
Rin let out a long, shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves.
"Great. Exactly what I needed tonight. A room with a view, chains included," he muttered, the sarcasm barely hiding how tired he felt. He looked at his trembling hands, knuckles scraped raw, and forced himself to relax.
His body was still running on that raw, post-fight energy. Legs burning, calves twitching from the sprint, yeah, Nimble Feet worked, but he felt the fatigue now; his thighs were tight and his shins were on fire. No wounds, no hits, just adrenaline burned out. He touched his chest, felt his new heartbeat going too fast, the skin slick under his hand. The goblin's body was smaller and lighter, but every nerve felt like it was turned up to max.
He glanced around, cautious.
No guards inside. Just him and the dark. The mat in the far corner was a joke, a piece of hide, stiff as cardboard, half chewed by something with big teeth. He flopped onto it, mud squishing under his hips, his goblin rags sticking to his skin. The cold sank straight to the bone. He tried to peel the worst of the dirt off his legs, but all he managed was to smear it around, making a mosaic of old blood, soot, and goblin filth.
He wasn't alone.
Across from him, on the other side of the tent, another chain, another prisoner.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, then he recognized the little goblin who started the fight at the fire.
That lopsided grin was gone. He was slumped against the pole, wrists locked in iron, face swollen, a trickle of blood dried down his cheek. Eyes closed. Not dead, but out cold, breathing shallow, chest hitching. Maybe got a beating for stirring shit up. Rin almost said something, then stopped himself.
"Nope. He's trouble. Let him sleep it off," Rin thought, rolling his eyes.
Rin let his head fall back, staring at the underside of the tent roof, rain pounding so loud he could feel it through the canvas.
"All of this because of a glitch," he thought to himself.
Rin ran it over again, mind flickering from moment to moment, the choice of goblin, the pod freezing, the click as his fate locked in, world quest window blazing gold in his vision.
"Kaiseki, huh?" He managed a weak grin. "Name doesn't mean much. If I'm stuck with it, I might as well make it something to be proud about." He nodded, not allowing this to waver his thoughts. In the end, he was finally in the game he always wanted to play. Not to his exact standards, but he was here, and that alone was something.
He rolled onto his side, pulling his knees to his chest, elbows digging into the dirt.
The blue edge of his UI hovered, waiting.
He flicked it open, just to have something to do.
[SYSTEM STATUS]
Name: Rin Kaiseki
Health: 75 / 75
MP: 50 / 50
Race: Goblin
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Hybrid
[Inventory]
• Bone Knife (Confiscated)
• Scrap of Bread (Stale, pocket lint)
• Crude Map: Outskirts – Lunarest (Torn, useless)
[Skills]
• Goblin Gas [Lv1]
• Nimble Feet [Passive]
• Scavenger [Passive]
• Goblin Flare [Lv1]
He stared at the screen, blinking back grit from his eyes. No weapon, no food worth eating, no escape.
In the upper corner, the log-out icon glowed.
He let his thumb hover over it, thinking, biting at the inside of his cheek.
"Back out there, Chiyo's probably waiting. Momo's on Loop, Taji's spamming tournament news. Even when things suck, at least it's real. I gotta keep moving. For them," he thought.
His stomach rumbled. He rolled onto his back, flexed his new goblin toes, and felt the cold mud squeeze up between them. The tent stank. Something moved outside, a scraping sound, maybe Outlaws checking the chains. He listened to the camp, tried to make sense of the voices, but it was all too distant, too muffled by rain and canvas.
His mind circled back to the quest.
"World quest. The kind of thing that changes everything. Not many ever get this far. Maybe I'm lucky or destined to fail. I won't find out waiting around here burning time," he thought.
He scanned the skills again, stopping on the faded icon.
[Unlock: Shaman's Veil – Requirements Needed]
Sacrifice: -4 Strength, +5 INT, +2 WIS, -1 VIT
Description: Unlocks Spirit Magic path. Enables unique spellcasting for goblin's curse, buff, and hex. Warning: Drains' physical attack. Cannot equip heavy weapons.
He squinted at it, heart kicking.
"Shaman's Veil looks like a serious skill if I am serious about magic. Yes, it has its defects, but this entire class does… but I have to at least try. I may be new, but I know my intelligence is far too low even to do the lowest-tier spell," Rin thought.
He took one last glance at the skill before closing his eyes, letting his mind drift as the tent faded into rain, thunder, and the sound of the little goblin snoring.
He took a deep breath, reopened his eyes, and adjusted himself in his small confined area before touching the UI again, popping the world quest up.
[Accept / Decline]
Rin knew that on the other end of this quest could either help him or leave him astray, but he couldn't find out, being scared, he'd already gambled so much just being here, already buying the HGO drive.
"Momo… Taji… Mom... Dad… I will fix this… my way…"
As Rin pressed ACCEPT, the quest window shimmered and dissolved in an eerie green glow.
A pressure hit the air, and the lantern's glow burned with a fierce emerald aura, sending a ripple through the tent. For a moment, even the chained goblin stirred in his sleep, a whimper caught in his throat.
A figure took shape in the darkness, not of flesh, but of memory. A tall, spectral goblin, more human in posture than beast, coat heavy with stitched runes, old battle scars glowing faintly through his transparent chest. Shiv, the ghost king, his yellow eyes burning with ancient fire, the lantern held high like a beacon for the lost.
When Shiv spoke, the entire tent seemed to freeze, the rain hissing quieter, even the chains falling still.
"You come from far, little one, and bear no clan's mark. The bones heard your courage. Few stand where banners have fallen. Five tribes, one hope. The bones remember."
The ghostly light swept the muddy ground, and for a heartbeat, Rin glimpsed ancient goblin warbands' shadows and echoing banners, all kneeling to this single king.
"The forest tests all who enter. Three nights to prove your name, or vanish like those before. Seek the shrines. Gather the bones. Wake the lost. The clans will watch."
His words vibrated through the air, old and heavy, carrying every failure and every hope of the goblin clans.
Shiv tipped his battered hat, the lantern's green fire burning a mark into Rin's HUD a clover sigil pulsing beside his quest timer. The vision faded, but a ghostly chill lingered, like a hand on Rin's shoulder.
After accepting, he looked at the timer of the quest. "Three Days… I have three days before they return. I need to go home and prepare… also need to handle Tochi and get things settled that way I am not worried about twins… I can't back down… If not, old man Gato will for sure whoop my ass," Rin chuckled to himself, forcing confidence.
In the world chat, an alert popped up!
[System | Kaiseki has activated the World Quest: Call of the Bones]
[Bifrost_Blue]: "World quest! Kaiseki? Who the hell is that?"
[Nanami]: "Whoever it is, I'm tracking it. Last year's quest dropped a mythic. Time to move."
Rin looked at the chat in awe before quickly scanning to the Logout section. He needed to get back; he couldn't worry about what the system chat read off, even though his name had now appeared globally for the first time without him realizing it.
He pressed it and let the digital world melt around him.
Akihabara – Sakura Arcade, 9:44 p.m.
The pod's hydraulics let out a low hiss.
Rin peeled open his eyes and had to blink twice, world gone from short, clawed, and filthy to tall, lanky, and real again. For a split second, he kept expecting his toes to scrape packed dirt. Instead, his knees were crammed against the side of the pod's battered vinyl, his arms long, heavy, and all his. The shock of coming back to himself left a cold ache behind his sternum. He sucked in a shaky breath, ran a hand over his dreads real, wet with sweat and stretched until his back popped.
Sakura Arcade hit him with full sensory overload: the smell of fried croquettes, stale wax, old cigarette smoke; the thunder of retro J-pop through a battered PA; the clatter of coins; and that soft ozone from the pod's fans cycling down. Kids hunched over cabinets, shouting over each other's high scores. Neon crawled up the walls, flickered off every glass surface, made every edge feel twice as sharp.
He climbed out of the Haya pod, knees unsteady his legs still wanted to squat, his balance all thrown off from being a three-foot goblin for hours.
He braced against the pod, waiting out the dizziness, taking in the chaos of the arcade with a long, grounding breath.
The front counter was right where he left it. Leon leaned on his elbows, manga spread in front of him, one hand tapping a rhythm on a cracked phone. He wore a faded red track jacket, hair half-pulled back under a cap, glasses perched low. The TV above his head was all news Prime Minister Saito's face looked extra pale, lips moving fast, kanji banners screaming "RESOURCE CRISIS" and "SUPPLY CHAIN SHOCK" in bright blue.
"The government will continue to investigate all recent acquisitions," the Prime Minister declared, voice brittle with strain. "We have assurances from Nexus that nothing will disrupt supply. I urge the people of Japan to remain calm. Our energy reserves and infrastructure remain secure."
The anchor's face was tight, scrolling headlines flashing:
"UN SECURITY COUNCIL EMERGENCY SESSION. KAZUKU ACQUIRES RIGHTS TO ALL REMAINING SE ASIA GAS. MARKETS UNSTABLE."
Rin checked his phone:
[Chiyo: "Hey, we'll be out late. Picking up dinner, back soon."]
[Chiyo: "Didn't answer so we got your usual. See you soon!"]
[Chiyo: "On our way home. Did you make a decision about Tochi?"]
typed out quick:
[Rin: "Yes, will talk about Tochi once I'm home. Stopping by the hospital first. I'll be home in a bit."]
His hands still shook a little.
He stuffed the phone into his hoodie pocket, rolling his shoulders as he moved toward the counter, doing his best to play it cool.
Leon didn't look up right away, but Rin caught the quick flick of his eyes checking to see if the pod had caught fire or the kid had fallen out.
Leon smirked, voice pitched just loud enough to cut through the arcade.
"You make it back to the real world, or did that pod eat you alive?"
He closed the manga with a soft snap, eyebrow up.
Rin grinned, leaning into the counter, letting the neon and heat soak back into his bones.
"Still here. My back's never gonna forgive me, though. Those Haya pods were made for tiny old men, not six-foot kids."
Leon laughed more of a low, throaty sound.
"No shit. I was about ready to check if you needed CPR. You were out almost four hours."
Leon leaned over, squinting past Rin's shoulder at the pod.
"Didn't brick it, did you?"
Rin shook his head, feeling the last static drain from his limbs.
"Nah. Still running. Had to tinker a little after it froze old drives, old software. Got it working again."
Rin let the words hang, not explaining more than he needed.
Leon's fingers drummed a faster beat on the counter.
"What'd you mess with? Anything I gotta fix? I told you not to run anything that would damage it!"
Rin noticed him get a bit tense and worried and began to explain.
"I gave it a manual override. Just some patching. My old man taught me a few things when it came to this sort of thing. Also used the old manual on my phone for reference. Sorry for not saying didn't want to bother you."
That made Leon pause, the lines of suspicion smoothing into curiosity.
"Wait, you're telling me your old man taught you that? Did he work at Kazehaya Co when they were around before the buyout? Because that's the only way you'd know how to override one of those things. Security even for top-flight hackers it's hard to crack. Like, Ikko Kazehaya was a mad genius when he made that thing."
For the first time, Leon went full nerd first real glimpse of excitement Rin had seen from this man. It made Rin smile, knowing he knew his dad's work and it wasn't forgotten.
Rin nodded.
"Yeah. That's my dad."
There was a moment of proud, awkward quiet pride at the name, awkward because the city never let him forget who he was supposed to live up to.
He'd always felt the weight of that name Ikko Kazehaya. Innovator. Everyone's favorite tech uncle. But at the end of the day, Dad was just… Dad. Who made things run, fixed everything with a piece of tape and a laugh, and left a manual for every broken part of the world except the part that mattered most. Rin thought.
Leon's voice went softer.
"Well, damn. You're not pulling my leg?"
Rin pulled out his ID to validate.
He glanced at the pod again, then back at Rin, sizing him up with new respect.
Rin let a half-smile show, eyes flicking back to the TV.
The anchor was sweating through his suit, voice tense as he read off numbers that didn't sound real.
"…Nexus Enterprises CEO Kazuku acquires major gas reserves across SE Asia. Government assures no disruptions, but investors remain anxious. Emergency session scheduled for tomorrow. All asset maps pending digital integration by January…"
Leon shook his head, folding a rag behind the counter.
"You see this? Prime Minister acts like he's got it all handled, but… nobody buys that shit."
Rin just watched, thinking of the mess outside.
"Yeah. Tokyo never felt so small."
Leon nodded at the pod.
"If you ever want to work on the old rigs or need a place to play I'll cut you a deal. Pod two's dead, but you bring it back, I'll owe you a favor."
Rin let a bit of street bravado slip.
"Consider it a deal then. I can work on it, but if I do, allow me to toy with new games on the pods. I won't break them."
Leon hesitated, then responded.
"Fine, but only if you fix the pod. Also, maybe help around here when you're freed up on time. I can't pay, but can reserve game time and hours. When people hear those things work, business will bloom. But if you fix one, the one you're working will be reserved unless you say otherwise."
Leon was waiving a deal he needed workers, and if Rin could get the pods back up, that would help his dying business.
Leon grinned, cocky but real.
"Kid who can wire a Kazehaya pod from scratch isn't random. Hell, you got more cred than half the techs who come through here. Just don't break my last money-maker. If you do, you're on dish duty for a month."
Rin pocketed the slip, pulse easing for the first time all night.
"Deal. But you gotta let me swap out the seat padding. That thing's murder."
Leon snorted.
"As long as you don't swap the whole machine out, go wild."
The air was thick, but it wasn't tense just two people feeling out how the world was changing, minute by minute.
Rin let the sound of the arcade fill his head for a second: the tap of shoes on linoleum, the giggle of kids over a win, the sharp slap of rain against glass. He flexed his long arms, feeling how weird it was to be tall again shoulders sore, neck stiff, feet awkwardly heavy after hours as a goblin.
He slid on his jacket, picked up his helmet, and let himself breathe in the warm, messy, real air of Akihabara. As he pushed open the arcade door, rain-streaked neon caught on his dark skin, dreads brushing his collar, the cold bite of Tokyo's winter night pulling him back to life.
For a heartbeat, Rin just breathed, letting the city sharpen around him the neon haze on wet concrete, the distant rumble of a passing train, a kid's laughter echoing down the alley. He stretched his arms, feeling the phantom ache of goblin bones in his real legs, his whole body tall and too-big after hours hunched in the pod.
His phone buzzed from ping finally, a reply from Chiyo.
[Chiyo: "Be careful, okay? Don't stay out too late. Visiting hours at the hospital end at 10:30. See you soon."]
He almost smiled, the edge of home tugging at him.
But before he could even slide his phone away, another ping lit up the screen a new message, this one sharp and cold, the sender's name unfamiliar but the number all too recognizable. The family butler. Tabuchi. Eren's mouthpiece. Always the same.
[Tabuchi – Family Retainer]
"Kazehaya-san. On behalf of Master Eren, I am instructed to remind you that your family's outstanding debts will be settled one way or another. Delays are no longer tolerated. Do not make the same mistakes as your father. Closed caskets are heavy things to carry. I expect your reply."
The words snapped like a whip formal, but dripping poison. The kind of message you never showed to anyone else. The kind that made you check twice for shadows, even in a city that never slept.
For a second, Rin just stared at the screen, his hand gone tight around the phone.
"What do they know about my dad's death? How deep does this go?" he thought. "Tabuchi… the family's hands are everywhere in this city. I have to be careful. Every move, in here and in HGO. If they could show up at my dad's funeral, there's nothing they can't touch."
He felt the old anger surge, and then the weight. But he forced himself to focus.
"I have to figure this out. For Chiyo. For the twins. For Dad. The Bash, HGO this is the only way. If I can just buy a year, I can keep them safe. That's my real timer. That's my real quest."
He squared his shoulders, letting the cold settle in.
"Not this time. I'm not letting them bury me and my family"
Rain hammered the street outside the arcade, neon reflecting off every puddle as Rin reached for his Haya e-Beat. He pulled open the storage compartment, grabbing his gloves wet, but better than nothing. He shook out his helmet, then carefully tucked his dreads back, pulling the visor down tight over his eyes.
The HGO Loop station was already playing in his helmet, Yuna's pre recorded voice from NEON9 humming in the background as she teased the next Winter Bash promo between tracks. The familiar static was the only thing that kept his nerves from fraying.
His mind raced: Mom in the hospital. Tochi's application. The three-day world quest ticking down in-game. The Tabuchi family's threats, debts piling up, the weight of what happened to Dad, and the worry for the twins. All of it pressing on him, hard and cold.
"I need to move smart. I need to win. For them. For me. For Dad." The words were quiet, but real barely audible over the rain and the low thrum of the engine.
He pressed the ignition. The e-Beat's dashboard flickered blue. As he rolled out into the street, rain swept against his visor and the city lights streaked by in a blur. He gunned the bike through the traffic, heading for the hospital, heart pounding with every beat of the motor, the radio fading into city night.
END CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6: Borrowed Time, Broken Roads
"In here, time moves slow unless you're running out."