Minoru Sato lived a life that could be summarized in two words: beige and unnoticed. At thirty three, his corner of the corporate world was a cubicle bathed in the harsh, indifferent light of fluorescent bulbs, his existence defined by the rhythm of spreadsheets, late night ramen, and the quiet despair of perpetual mediocrity. He was, to put it mildly, a nobody. A cog in a machine that didn't even know his name, only his employee number.
The only color in his life was the fleeting glimpse of Ms. Kawamura, the young woman from accounting, who always offered a small, polite bow when they passed in the hallway. She was bright, effervescent, and entirely out of his league. He'd barely spoken ten words to her in the three years they had worked on the same floor. His life was a silent drama of unacknowledged crushes and forgotten dreams, the kind that accumulate dust in the back of a salaryman's apartment.
One Tuesday, the world decided to give Minoru an ending that defied his beige life. It was 6:00 PM, the city was a blur of headlights and exhaust, and Minoru was walking past the intersection near the office building, his briefcase feeling heavy with the weight of another failed day. Ms. Kawamura was there, too, stepping off the curb, eyes glued to her phone, utterly oblivious to the massive, poorly maintained delivery truck that had just run a red light and was careening toward her at terrifying speed.
Time, which had been so generous in letting Minoru's life drift by, suddenly became a cruel, slow-motion observer. He saw the gleam of the truck's massive grill, the look of confused horror on the driver's face as he wrestled with the wheel, and the small, innocent silhouette of Ms. Kawamura.
His body moved without a single conscious thought. He dropped his briefcase, a pathetic thump against the concrete, and launched himself forward. A guttural cry ripped from his throat, not one of fear, but of sheer, desperate effort. He grabbed Ms. Kawamura's slender shoulder and shoved her with all the strength of a man who suddenly realized he had one moment left to matter. She tumbled onto the sidewalk, safely.
The next sensation was an overwhelming, crushing impact. A sound like a thousand shattered wine bottles and the sickening thud of bone against metal. Everything spun into an instant, agonizing kaleidoscope of pain. As he fell, Minoru's final thought was a strange, serene realization: I actually did something worthwhile.
Then, darkness. A profound, absolute void that swallowed the pain and the sound. He drifted for what felt like an eternity, a ghost tethered to no memory or sensation. He was not Minoru Sato. He was not a corporate nobody. He was merely an existence, waiting.
Then came the sound. It was the drip, drip, drip of water, amplified to the roar of a waterfall. A cold, damp pressure pressed against him. He tried to open his eyes, and a wave of nausea washed over him as he realized his vision was blurry and low to the ground. He was conscious, but he was wrong.
He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt feeble and disproportionate. He was in a small, cramped cavern, the air thick with the smell of wet earth and something metallic and unpleasant. When his vision finally cleared, he looked down at himself.
His skin was not the pale, office-starved white he remembered. It was a mottled, unhealthy shade of dull green. His fingers were long and clawed, and his frame was short, hunched, and skinny, ending in large, clumsy feet. A mirror image of primitive, savage weakness. His head was disproportionately large, featuring a pair of pointed, triangular ears that twitched involuntarily at the slightest sound.
A goblin, a voice shrieked in his mind, instantly providing the race's name despite him never having seen one outside a video game or fantasy illustration. I'm a goblin. I died saving a coworker, and now I'm a goblin. The absurdity was staggering, so grand that it bypassed denial and settled straight into a panicked form of acceptance.
A new sensation arose, a strange energy that seemed to permeate the air around him. It was a flowing, almost liquid light that he could sense, not with his eyes, but with some deeper, innate part of his being. It felt cold, heavy, and potent.
What is that? he wondered, a desperate attempt to categorize the world replacing his terror. I wish I knew what this energy was. I wish I could just analyze it.
Suddenly, an abstract, cold voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, not a voice he heard, but one that simply was.
[Confirmed. Unique Skill: Appraisal granted. Adaptation criteria met: Desire for absolute information in a foreign environment.]
Before he could process the strange response, the world swam with overlaid data. The flowing energy now had a name and a description, superimposed onto his vision in a series of glowing, white characters that only he could perceive.
Energy Source: Magoi
Description: The fundamental magical energy that flows through and sustains all life and matter in this world. It is the basis for all magical phenomena.
Stored Energy: Magius
Description: The amount of refined Magoi accumulated within an individual's body. The concentration and quality of an individual's Magius dictates their potential and magical capability.
His Appraisal skill was working. It was real. Minoru, or what was left of Minoru, felt a surge of cautious relief. At least he had a tool to understand this terrifying new reality.
He then cast the Appraisal skill upon himself, a silent thought that focused the ability inward. The resulting data was not comforting.
Name: Goblino (Unnamed Goblin Male)
Race: Goblin (Lesser Variant)
Affiliation: None
Magius: 25 / 100 (Extremely Low)
Skills:
• Appraisal (Unique Skill): Allows for the rapid analysis of self, matter, energy (Magoi/Magius), and certain creatures. Requires concentration and contact (physical or visual).
• Adaptation: Enhanced Night Vision (Novice): Basic adjustment to low light environments.
Magius 25 out of 100, he mentally processed. Extremely low. He was weak, even by the standards of this lowly race. The "Lesser Variant" label felt like another corporate performance review, and he had flunked.
He scanned the cavern again, using his newly gifted sight. It was a crude, dark space, smelling strongly of his own kind, or at least, what his kind must smell like. He could make out crude pallets of straw and scraps of cloth, and near the mouth of the cave, he heard the low, guttural chattering of other goblins.
He was alone for the moment, separated from his new clan. This was his chance to get his bearings. The chattering sounds were growing louder, suggesting the others were returning or waking up. He needed to move, but he felt a crushing sense of inadequacy. He was a corporate salaryman in the body of a weak, green monster, possessing only a fledgling analytical skill and a pathetic reservoir of magical energy.
He was a goblin.
He spent the next hour simply observing the rock walls of the cave, trying to calculate escape routes, potential hiding spots, and the distance to the cave entrance. He appraised the crude tools lying around: a rusted knife, a broken wooden club, and a few smooth, Magoi-infused stones that seemed to function as dim, natural light sources.
The sounds outside the cave entrance suddenly changed. The guttural chattering turned into a unified, high pitched shriek of panic, followed by deep, heavy snarls that shook the very earth under him. Danger. Immediate, profound danger.
His adrenaline spiked, his new, feeble heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The other goblins were screaming. Something powerful was hunting them.
He instinctively pressed himself flat against the cold stone floor, the Appraisal skill flickering wildly as his panic rose. He couldn't see what was happening outside the mouth of the cave, but the sounds were horrifying. The desperate yelps were being cut short by a wet, tearing sound, followed by the crunch of bone.
He was trapped. If he stayed, whatever was out there would eventually find him. If he ran toward the exit, he would run straight into the carnage.
I need to know what that thing is, he thought, teeth gritted, the urge to analyze overriding the urge to flee. I wish I had a way to see what is happening out there without being seen. I need to be able to hear better, smell better, something to warn me!
The cold voice in his mind responded instantly, driven by the intense fear and desire for survival.
[Confirmed. Adaptation criteria met: Desire for early warning system against overwhelming threat.]
[Adaptation: Enhanced Senses granted. Auditory and Olfactory capacity drastically increased. Cost: 5 Magius.]
A sharp, searing pain shot through his ears and nose. The volume of the outside world suddenly became deafening. The raw, metallic scent of blood and the musk of a terrifying predator slammed into his senses. He could now hear the heavy, measured breathing of the beast and the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of blood hitting the dry earth just beyond the entrance. He could even smell the creature's diet, a revolting mix of raw meat and forest foliage.
It was close. Too close. And it sounded massive. Minoru knew he had to act now. His new enhanced senses confirmed the immediate, existential threat.