Chapter 81: I Am Creating a Post Imdiately
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
“Explosion? An explosion?”
NotWearingPants peeped out from the walls and looked in disbelief at the blasted bones of the elite Skeleton Soldier.
“Gosh, that’s sothing. Wasi, I didn’t know you were that aweso. What was that? A hidden item?” BurningChestHair asked in astonishnt. The flas in front lit up his green face, and he looked rosy.
“What Wasi? Don’t give strange nas. I am Sylvanas! Dark Queen!” Sylvanas said in a hoarse voice.
“I told you about my tactics yesterday. You weren’t paying attention. That was not a hidden item. I made them myself!”
“Forget it. That was sobody’s idea, and he made them for you. You rely paid for it and killed a few Dire Wolves,” NotWearingPants said.
“I paid for the feces and the original materials!” Sylvanas was unhappy with NotWearingPants’ undermining behavior.
“Let’s defeat the monsters and discuss later,” Arthur said, interrupting them before they started a new round of argunt.
Everyone kept quiet after hearing Arthur’s words. All of them were focused and ready to fight as they walked towards the burning elite Skeleton Soldier.
They were going to salvage the equipnt.
Sylvanas grasped her Short Bow and was alert as she placed an arrow on the bow.
The fire diminished since there were not much to burn.
The five Goblins walked warily into the detonated area. The explosion was quite powerful, leaving a pit in the ground. The Skeleton fra laid on the ground and the pieces of armor were slightly damaged. The weapon was a Flail, which looked intact.
Peasant extended his hand and touched it when he caught a whiff of fragrant roasted at.
Peasant was dumbstruck. He retrieved his hand and found his finger cooked.
“Er, it’s dangerous without the sensation of pain...” Peasant muttered to himself, but no one was bothered.
With Peasant’s confirmation of the true-to-life “ga” physics, Arthur took out his Short Sword and flipped the scattered equipnt to let it cool down. He would co back for the Breastplate when it was safe to touch.
The other gars followed Arthur’s thod and went around to flip the equipnt.
“How was my shot just now? Was it super cool? I’ve thought of the na, Explosive Arrow... Eh? This didn’t explode?” Sylvanas used the arrow that was latched onto the bow to poke sothing in the fire.
NotWearingPants turned his head and shouted in fear as his sword dropped to the ground. “Don’t poke!”
“Boom—!”
An explosive fireball rose up into the air.
85945 and 65685 gazed at the fiery blast in the crystal and looked at each other.
“We defeated the Black Armored Goblin? We graduated?”
“Seems like it...”
...
Rows of round pillars filled the ceramic-tiled floor, which was so clean that it reflected the beautiful ceiling painting.
In the spacious Main Hall, there were rows and rows of long tables. Behind each table sat a formal employee who could be a Gno, an Orc, a Succubus, or other Underworld creatures.
The background wall behind the employees had the words “Smile on the face, service with your heart—Winterfell Talent Resource Market.”
Under the huge background wall, Sherlock sat at the table with the words “Talent Resource Information 9.” He was reading a book carefully.
Opposite Sherlock was a Werewolf with dark eye rings. He was wearing a formal working suit with a bow tie and sat hunched as he remained silent and emotionless.
“Ooo... is this the information on the Lich applicants? Are there any official recomndations? Perhaps with better price-quality ratio and service?” Sherlock asked as he placed the book on the table.
The Werewolf looked at the book emotionlessly and flipped a page open.
It showed a Lich’s resu and a large skull photograph in the top left-hand corner. The words below showed, “X X X, female, graduated from Professional Skills College with interdiate Lich skills. The skills are superb and the service excellent. The monthly salary is 500 Magic Stones. More benefits could be seen with extra paynt.”
Sherlock looked at the photograph of the large skull and the monthly salary. Then he registered his recruitnt requirent and wrote “Negotiate Face-to-Face” in the salary box before leaving.
Sherlock didn’t stay in Winterfell. He returned to Eternal Kingdom imdiately.
When the gars saw Sherlock, they gathered like bees to honey and started requesting various services.
Sherlock healed and revived the gars.
Before long, the Goblins chatted while they dispersed and continued with their missions.
Sherlock surveyed the surroundings. The furnace fire was lit in the Blacksmith Shop as Simba hamred the equipnt. There were three solemn and silent gars queuing up for equipnt improvent. They would glare at any passersby if they made any loud noises.
There was a wooden signboard by the Blacksmith Shop with the following words, “If you treasure your equipnt, do not make any noise.”
Over at the Carpenter Workshop, Mufasa stirred the cauldron using a soup ladle.
A few gars gathered at the workshop as they tapped their shields and shouted, “Quick, quick! I’m so hungry that I’m unable to carry the bricks!”
In comparison, the Blacksmith Shop was dead quiet, while the gars at the Carpenter Workshop were absolutely unrestrained.
“I know, it’s going to be ready soon!”
Compared to the hard-line Simba, Mufasa was more gentle.
There were many gars gathered at the Training Ground, but the number of Moroes’ students had dwindled.
The gars were forming expedition teams, chatting, and conducting transactions at the Training Ground.
With the appearance of the Instance Dungeon, “Specter College: Training Grounds”, the equipnt of the gars beca better. Though not many gars were successful in conquering the Instance Dungeon, a successful team would bring back tens of pieces of equipnt back.
Most of the equipnt was better than the standard Diamond Seam equipnt. Even the worst pieces of equipnt were of green excellent quality.
Besides using this equipnt to upgrade themselves, most of the gars sold their leftover equipnt.
Sherlock wasn’t bothered with their selling since they were equipping themselves and since it saved him a large amount of money. Was that not mutually beneficial?
The developnt of the Dungeon proceeded thodically those days. The gars dug out several large, empty spaces along the sides of the central passageway according to Sherlock’s plan.
The empty spaces were catered for the future gars’ Living Quarters and Equipnt Storage.
The Dungeon couldn’t possibly stay in Beta Testing, and the gars count wouldn’t stagnate at a hundred. Sherlock’s ambition wouldn’t allow that.
After Sherlock got to know the rough location for the Ancient Ruins, he had planned for a lot of things.
Like upgrading the Dungeon Core, recruiting more gars from the otherworld, developing the Dungeon, and creating a powerful army to fulfill his dreams.
The advertisent in the otherworld was—Ga Second Beta.
Though Ga Second Beta’s announcent wasn’t published, Sherlock had started thinking of the concept.
Returning to the actual world.
Sherlock didn’t want to wait, and he wasn’t willing to wait for the hundred gars to complete the entire Living Quarters.
The pressing task was to excavate so empty space for future gars to sleep and go offline.
As for refinent and beautification of the Living Quarters, that would be done after expanding the gar count when new gars were recruited to the Dungeon.
Sherlock looked at the busy gars setting up stalls and selling their stuff. He pondered for a while and returned to the Dungeon Core Main Hall.
He let Bru display the current area map on the Dungeon Core before he started planning.
He planned a new area beside the original Living Quarters.
“Bru, let the gars excavate this area first for tomorrow.”
“I understand, Lord Sherlock.”
Sherlock heard a commotion coming from outside.
“What? Arthur’s team perished?”
“Was the test of the Bladder Bomb successful?”
Sherlock looked outside and saw five Goblins walking out from the Teleport Portals.
They were Arthur, NotWearingPants, Sylvanas, Peasant, and BurningChestHair.
The other gars surrounded them imdiately.
“I didn’t expect to be killed by my teammate using such an unscrupulous thod. I can’t help it. I’ll sar you to death in my posts,” the surrounded NotWearingPants said to Sylvanas before falling to the ground. He had gone offline.
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