Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core) Chapter 49: Do you respect Life?

Mister Ghost was the goblin chief? Oh, no! Oh, no!

"I’m not a ghost, by the way," the goblin chief went back to eating.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Ok, so I didn’t do it with a dead person!

Well... Aron didn’t count.

I hoped.

"I’m the dungeon core of the dungeon you are so set on plundering," he even chuckled.

I gulped.

Ok, this wasn’t good. Not good at all!

"But, to put it in simpler terms. Not that you need it, but I need it. It is not every day a dungeon core marries , steals my boss mob schema, and then cooks dinner. Or is it breakfast? I haven’t seen the sun in so long... is it still yellow?"

I gulped once more.

"Yes?" I didn’t sound sure, but he seed not to hold it against .

"Hm... because there was this prophecy that it was going to turn red," he took the last of the food and licked his spoon clean. "Well, I guess I did most of the cooking. You... did your thing with the potatoes."

I felt my face heating up. Yeah... that thing with the boiled potatoes was sothing I wasn’t going to repeat soon...

"But let us talk business, dearest," he said, as he placed the clay pot down. "Fifty percent."

I blinked.

"Fifty percent of... what? I’m poor," I told him because he had to know such things about . "And did tax evasion, so now I have to cook for King Solas’ army. You can’t believe..."

I began, but he just held up his hand.

"Sylvan," he said, as his eyes began to shine. "Do you respect life?"

I wanted to say yes, but my firstborns were a Lich and a Boliarin.

"Jain," it was a strange word that so tourists had explained to ant yes and no. Back during those happier tis as I fed them all nice warm food.

So, they wouldn’t use my branches as souvenirs.

"Jain... I see," I doubted it. Still, I didn’t want to get very philosophical about it all.

He lied!

The bastard lied he was a goblin! He lied that he was a ghost, for which I was thankful, but that’s beside the point!

"I want divorce!" I yelled as I gathered my mana in my fingernails. Ready to purify the stuffings out of him. "And I want fifty percent!"

Because if the gold back there in the chamber where I saw the lamps was real, then he was rich!

I had the full intention to fleece him.

"Jain," he threw my own word back at ! The nerve! "I’ll give you fifty percent, if you na the priest who married us."

His smile was all fangs.

I sat back down, grumbling.

"You’re awful," I whined, as I took the clay pot. I needed sothing to do. "Water."

He gave so cold water. I wanted to hit him over the head. The clay pot was warm!

"Warm water! I am taking the pot!" That was not sothing I was going to negotiate about.

If I wasn’t going to get his house, his riches, or even his cheese, then he owed the darn clay pot!

"Why?" He asked, placing a rune over the pot with the water. It heated up.

I began to wash the pot. Gently scrubbing it. Not caring that the food that he had left stuck to the bottom was getting under my fingernails.

"It is a good pot," I began as I looked at the colorful sides. Man, whoever painted it was a true master...wait a second!

"Did you make it?" I looked him straight in the eyes. He smirked. "It’s not fair!"

My roar echoed in the chamber. Darn it all!

He could cook, he could make clay pots, he could probably even clean them!

"Sylvan, you are not searching for a partner," he told calmly, as he placed a rune on the pot, and it ended up clean.

Heck, even my hands were nice and clean afterward!

"You are searching for a second you," the mist was back. The goblin chief was gone. "And I refuse to be that. Even if I can be."

"Why?" I didn’t know it, but I sounded like a child. A child whose chocolate bar had been taken away, so their dinner wouldn’t be spoiled. "Why can’t you be? We had fun!"

"Because I am worth more than that," a misty hand patted on the head. "So are you."

Before I could so much as scream, I was surrounded by ogres! They wore sothing that looked like legendary armor. And they were all blonde.

"But I’ll leave you sothing to rember by," I could hear a husky voice in my ear. A voice which had driven to insanity, back when its owner looked like a goblin. "You did want to marry . And marriage, dear, leads to children."

I blinked as the ogres looked at with big, innocent eyes.

"Dada!" They all chorused.

My eyes watered.

"Finally," I said because I had been waiting to hear that word for the longest ti.

Mordred’s panicked cries didn’t count.

"Anyone hungry?" I asked, eyeing the leftover ingredients. But right before my eyes, they turned into fresh produce! And there it was: crates with mammoth cheese!

I smirked.

"I’m not leaving," because I still had sothing to get Mr. Perfect. Sothing he had given himself, at that! "Now you have to pay child support!"

I felt pretty smug about it, before a sign with: Child Support (for Sylvan) appeared before the bounty.

"Darn you! I love you! Marry ! Darn you!"

But no one answered. Little did I know that the dungeon core was not what it appeared.

And that a certain man was playing tricks with .

But as I began to cook for my new children because I refused to think about them as mobs, least their father stopped paying for child support, I was already cooking up a plan.

My harem was going to grow!

But the thing was... my harem was actually...

Sigh.