"Ah... Boss..." Reese stammered, her voice trembling as she raised her hands in surrender. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the dim, cavernous room. The air was thick with the stench of damp earth and goblin filth, and the faint flicker of torchlight cast long, jagged shadows across the walls. "I-I suddenly feel like I can leave on my own..."
But when Kaito shifted slightly, the faint rustle of his movements sent a jolt of fear through her. Reese froze, her breath catching in her throat. She didn't dare move, her wide eyes locked on the figure before her. This stranger—who had just killed a goblin with terrifying efficiency—might strike her down next. The blade in his hand gleamed faintly, still wet with the blood of his last victim. All she wanted was to ask for an escort out of this hellhole. Was that too much to hope for?
Kaito frowned, his sharp, calculating eyes narrowing as he studied her. For a moment, the tension in the room was palpable, the silence broken only by the distant drip of water echoing through the tunnels. Then, to Reese's relief, he lowered his blade. She exhaled sharply, her shoulders slumping as the weight of fear lifted slightly. But just as quickly, he turned and walked away without a word, his footsteps soft against the uneven stone floor.
"Huh...?" Reese blinked, watching his retreating form disappear into the shadows. Disappointment washed over her, mingling with the lingering fear. She hugged herself, her fingers digging into her arms as she muttered under her breath, "How long will it take me to get out of here..." Her voice was tinged with frustration, but also a faint glimmer of determination. She wasn't going to die here. Not like this.
Yet, just as she resigned herself to her fate, Kaito suddenly reappeared, emerging from the shadows like a ghost. His presence was both unnerving and reassuring, a paradox that left Reese's emotions in turmoil.
"Boss!" Reese's face lit up, her grin wide with relief. She took a step forward, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "I knew you wouldn't abandon a helpless, beautiful girl like me!"
Kaito ignored her smile, his expression as unreadable as ever. Instead, his sharp eyes locked onto the dagger strapped to her waist. The blade was finely crafted, its hilt adorned with intricate engravings that hinted at its value. With a swift, practiced motion, he snatched it free, his movements so fluid they seemed almost inhuman.
"H-Huh?" Reese's smile froze, her hands instinctively reaching for the now-empty sheath at her side. She stared blankly as Kaito examined the blade, his expression one of quiet satisfaction. The dagger looked almost comically small in his hands, yet the way he held it spoke of someone who knew exactly how to wield it.
"W-Wait! That's my family's heirloom! The most expensive thing I own!" she protested, her voice rising in panic. She took a step forward, her hand outstretched as if to snatch it back, but Kaito's cold gaze stopped her in her tracks. His eyes were like shards of ice, piercing and unyielding. She bit her tongue and sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine... just think of it as... life-saving money..." she muttered bitterly, her voice barely above a whisper. At least she still had another dagger back home. Assuming she ever made it back.
Still, she couldn't help but scowl at Kaito's retreating back as he disappeared into the shadows once more. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. "...I can't believe I was rescued by someone pretending to be a goblin," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with equal parts gratitude and irritation.
Looking around, Reese realized she'd stumbled upon a massive goblin lair—a discovery that could make her fortune. The walls of the cavern were lined with crude wooden structures, makeshift cages, and piles of stolen goods. The air was thick with the stench of rot and decay, and the faint sound of distant goblin chatter echoed through the tunnels. The Adventurers' Guild would surely reward her handsomely for this information. If she could make it out alive.
"Heh... This will be worth it," Reese grinned to herself, her confidence surging despite the dire circumstances. Even if her strength was lacking, she was a top-tier thief! Escaping was her specialty. She had slipped through the fingers of countless guards, nobles, and monsters. A few goblins wouldn't be enough to keep her trapped.
"Alright..." Reese whispered, her voice barely audible as she activated her invisibility skill. Her body shimmered, the light bending around her until she faded from view. The room seemed empty, as though she'd never been there at all. Only the faint sound of her footsteps betrayed her presence as she began her careful, silent journey toward freedom.
---
Kaito returned to his small corner of the lair, quietly slipping back into the room he shared with the elf. The space was cramped and dim, lit only by a single flickering torch mounted on the wall. The large blade he carried was hidden beneath the bed, its presence a small comfort in this strange, hostile world. Being without a weapon made him uneasy. Since arriving in this place, he'd felt incomplete. His body was smaller now, his skin a sickly green. And worst of all, his weapons were gone.
Yet Kaito remained calm. He had spent his entire life training to survive, to kill, and to endure. Whether this was reincarnation or some twisted form of fate, it didn't matter. Survival was his only goal. He adjusted the stolen dagger beneath his ragged clothes, its weight a familiar and reassuring presence. Assassins never revealed their weapons easily.
Beside him, the elf slept soundly. Her golden-blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in loose waves, her face calm despite the grime and filth around them. The hardened lines of her face had softened in sleep, leaving her looking peaceful—but far from fragile. Even asleep, there was strength in her features, the quiet presence of someone who had endured far worse than this.
Kaito leaned closer, whispering softly. "Good night..."
Whether he spoke to himself or the sleeping elf, he wasn't sure. For now, this was enough.
Kaito closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, finally feeling safe.
The elf's ocean-blue eyes blinked open, her gaze drifting to Kaito's resting face. His features were soft in sleep, the harshness of his goblin lineage momentarily muted. Her fingers twitched, hovering just above his shoulder. With a single movement, she could end it. She could drive her nails into his throat, wrap her hands around his neck, or seize the dagger hidden beneath the bed. She could end this nightmare—this child who shouldn't exist, this living reminder of her torment.
Her hand trembled slightly, the weight of the decision pressing down on her like a stone. She had thought about it countless times before. Every night, as she lay beside him, the same question gnawed at her: Why haven't I done it yet?
But... she couldn't. Not now. Not ever. If she could have, she would have done so on the first night, when he was still small and fragile, when his cries were weak and his eyes barely open. But even then, something had stopped her. Something she couldn't name.
There was something about him—something that made her hesitate. It wasn't love. It couldn't be. How could she love the child of her captors, the product of her suffering? And yet, when he looked at her with those wide, trusting eyes, when he called her "Mom" in that clumsy, broken voice, something inside her cracked. She hated it. She hated him. But more than that, she hated herself for being unable to hate him completely.
"...What did he just say?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. His words echoed in her mind, soft and unexpected: Good night. Why had he said that? Why did he care? Was it some twisted attempt to comfort her? Or was it simply the instinct of a child who knew no better, who saw her as his only anchor in this cruel world?
Her thoughts swirled, a storm of emotions she couldn't untangle. Anger, resentment, pity, guilt—they crashed together in a chaotic tide, leaving her breathless. She wanted to scream, to tear at her hair, to lash out at the world that had done this to her. But she couldn't. She had to stay silent. She had to endure.
She sighed softly, her hand falling back to her side as she lay back down. Her body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and despair. Sleep claimed her once more, but her dreams were far from peaceful. They were filled with memories she wished she could forget—the hands that had touched her, the voices that had laughed, the pain that had become her constant companion. And always, always, the face of the child who shouldn't have been born.
In her dreams, she saw him as he was now: small, green-skinned, with eyes that held too much understanding for someone so young. She saw him reaching for her, calling her name, and she wanted to push him away. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he was a mistake, that he didn't deserve her care, her warmth, her protection. But even in her dreams, she couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to hurt him.
When she woke, the first thing she saw was his face, still peaceful in sleep. Her chest tightened, and she felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, refusing to let them fall. She couldn't afford to cry. Not here. Not now.
But as she lay there, watching him, she couldn't help but wonder: What kind of mother am I? She had never asked for this. She had never wanted it. And yet, here she was, trapped in a role she couldn't escape, caring for a child she couldn't bring herself to hate.
It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. But life had never been fair to her. And so, she did the only thing she could: she endured. For him. For herself. For the faint, fragile hope that one day, somehow, they might both find a way out of this hell.
---
Morning arrived with harsh shouts from a group of goblins. "Wake up!"
Kaito groaned, lifting his head from the elf's lap. Her golden hair framed her face, her expression tired but warm. She looked down at him, her ocean-blue eyes filled with a mixture of affection and sorrow.
"You're awake," she whispered, her voice soft and melodic.
"Mmm... Morning, Mom," Kaito replied in a clumsy tone. His harsh goblin voice barely managed the words, but the effort was there. It was enough.
"...Good morning." A tear slipped from the elf's eye, tracing a faint line down her cheek. Kaito reached out and wiped it away gently, his touch surprisingly tender.
"Mom, are you crying?"
"No... I'm fine," she choked out, her voice trembling despite her words. She forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Before Kaito could say more, a harsh voice interrupted. "Hey! Don't ignore me!"
Kaito turned to see three goblins standing outside the iron gate—one of them missing an ear. Their faces were twisted into sneers, their eyes filled with malice.
"You! Did you kill Goblin Zheng?!" the one-eared goblin demanded, his voice rising in anger.
Kaito clenched his fists, his body tensing as he prepared to fight. But before he could rise, the elf's hand pressed gently on his shoulder, her touch both comforting and restraining.
"I'm tired... just rest," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Tch! You damn brat!" the one-eared goblin sneered, his laughter harsh and grating. "You think you can protect her forever? Hahaha!"
Kaito's eyes narrowed, but he remained still, his mother's hand a silent reminder of the fragile peace they had managed to carve out in this hellish place. For now, he would wait. But the fire in his eyes promised that this wasn't over.