Nikola knew that something wasn't right when he returned to Big Capybara.
For one, the town's folk were in a frenzy. They were barricading their houses, while the guards were looking at him so, as if he had betrayed them.
Nikola had no desire to find out just what had gone wrong. He smiled, heading towards the Night School building.
Knowing full well that if there was one thing the headmaster loved, it was gold.
The people whispered about him behind his back. He even heard someone mentioning a meat shortage in the butcher's shop with his name attached to it.
But Nikola could not just let the goblins go hungry.
They had called him plumb more than once.
That was never a good thing.
When he entered the building, there were a couple of teachers already sitting in the cafe, drinking tea or coffee and smoking.
Nikola climbed the stairs, turned left, and then knocked on the headmaster's office.
"Come in!" Came the man's chirpy voice from inside.
"Hello, Sir!" Nikola sat opposite the big mahogany desk. The night school was the only alternative to a library in Big Capybara. A place that had been a village not too long ago.
Everyone knew that if they wanted to get ahead in life, they needed the night school.
And that, apparently, was also true for goblins.
"Sir, I come here to ask you for a favor," Nikola said, as he smiled. "The goblins of the nearby tribe have artistic hobbies! They carve exquisite bone carvings. Since their business is going so well, they wish to send some of their own here, to the night school, to get agricultural knowledge!"
The headmaster regarded him for a while so, as if he were debating on whether he should just kick him out or not.
He knew the complaints of the town's folk for having let goblins inside once. He knew that his teachers, so set in their ways, would never, ever, want to have a student who would turn them into shish kebabs if they told him he got a question wrong.
But the headmaster was nothing if not greedy.
And Nikola already had quite the credit from Gretta Ironheart.
Big Capybara might be a town now, but word spread just as fast as it did during its existence as a village.
"How much money are you willing to offer?" The headmaster asked.
Nikola smiled.
"Our intention is to let 10 goblins attend night school, using the monthly payment plan," Nikola was not going to overpay for the school.
If Goglina had warned him with sausagefication for 10 golden coins, he didn't want to know exactly how long she would be willing to chase him until she got him if he offered more than the school demanded of the humans.
"Yes, but we are speaking about goblins," the headmaster said, as he narrowed his eyes. "Surely, you must agree that there are certain risks I will be taking, if I agree to this?"
Nikola knew the risks. He also knew that if Grog demanded it of the goblins, they would not make anyone jerky.
"This is not about money, sir," Nikola began to bullshit shamelessly. "This is about a people who had been looked down on for far too long! The goblin chief, Grog, allowed me to bring one of his own personal therapy session bone carvings to present to you. Please, feast your eyes on this piece of art and tell me that the one who created it had a black soul, if you can!"
The truth was that it wasn't Grog who carved the bone. It was a small goblin child with fluffy green hair who seemed to love the color pink.
The poor boy was going to have more troubles than usual when he grew up, but Nikola had to get the carving of a pure soul.
There was just no one else who could make anything quite so sugary in the entire tribe.
And the boy had not asked for much. Just to be told a story while he was carving.
The world traveler suspected that the boy was not a full goblin, but either part tooth fairy or maybe even had a very cheerful garden gnome in its family tree.
The headmaster took the carving, looking at it this way and that.
He nodded.
"Good job," he said, as he looked at the teddy bears who were hugging suns, pillows, and even one very delicate sunflower. "Whether this chief is going to keep his place at the helm of the tribe is questionable, though."
"But don't you see, Headmaster?" Nikola asked, as he took a deep breath. He just hoped that the headmaster would never meet Grog.
Because Grog would not put up with the man and, well, meat him.
"The chief has put his soul into this! He has done everything possible to forsake his nature! The goblins are no different from us. They just want food, education, kindergarten for their young, and to live in Big Capybara as full citizens!"
"The housing in this town is not in good enough shape to let goblins live in here," the Headmaster lied.
Nikola knew for a fact that the town was a town because of a certain gnome who didn't want to be known as a villager anymore and could afford the change in status.
There were five abandoned houses on Nikola's street alone. He knew that the tribe could move into his neighborhood.
"I will speak about this with the mayor," the brunette said, as he locked his brown eyes on the headmaster. "But I don't need you to solve the housing problem, kind Headmaster. I need you to give hope and food for the mind to young goblins with big dreams!"
"They'll turn you into shawarma otherwise, right?" The headmaster asked.
"You do know that I can sue you for the fact that you charged me extra when I was freshly brought into this world, right? For every single gold coin you have, you tax evader!"
The headmaster looked a bit pained or constipated. Nikola wasn't sure.
But he was a world traveler, and his kind got protected from such thievery. They even had access to free lawyers.
"May I think about it?" The Headmaster asked.
"No," Nikola cut off the man's only way out without a shred of mercy. "Either lose everything or take a chance with the goblins."
"I can still lose everything either way!" The old headmaster protested.
"Not my problem."
Maybe the goblins were rubbing off on him more than he was willing to admit.
But as the headmaster began to take out registration forms, Nikola knew that he had him by the family jewels.