How to Get Girls, Get Rich, and Rule the World (Even If You're Ugly) Chapter 16: How to meddle with what is none of your business

Just when things were about to escalate between and Lina... it happened.

Not the kiss. Not yet.

Calm down.

The thing that happened was that kind of closeness that cos right before.

Where both people want it, but no one's in a rush.

She placed her hand on mine — the one still on her chin. Gentle.

Warm. A silent yes.

I tilted my face just slightly. Just enough.

That's when we heard it.

"YOU DAMN CAT!"

PRAK

The sound of sothing crashing downstairs — a chair? A tray? A barrel of onions? — was followed by heavy footsteps and desperate screaming.

"HE'S EATING ALL THE CURED AT, DAMMIT!"

Lina and I froze.

"It's Rúbio," she said, wide-eyed.

"Who?"

"The warehouse cat. He sneaks into the tavern sotis. My dad HATES him."

Downstairs, more yelling.

"I'M GONNA KILL THAT FURRY LITTLE BASTARD! LINA! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The voice climbing the stairs was enough for my soul to whisper:

Either you get out now, or your na ends up in a low-budget cri leaflet.

"Right. Well..." I muttered, letting go of her hand slowly. "Always a pleasure, Lina."

"Where are you going to—"

I answered with a look toward the window.

She didn't have ti to argue.

I jumped.

Literally.

Not heroically.

More like a sack of potatoes in a hurry.

Landed on a pile of hay and two buckets, rolled once, hit my shoulder, stood up wobbling, and gave a thumbs up toward the window.

Lina appeared up top, covering her mouth to hold in the laughter.

"I'll be back soon!" I whispered. "Try not to stab anyone till then!"

"Wasn't I supposed to stab soone?"

"Yes... that! Do stab! Bye!"

And I left.

Because, let's be honest...

Nothing says romance like leaping out a window to avoid death-by-angry-father-wielding-a-burning-broom.

That said, I was now sprinting toward the forest, just in case soone saw .

My only concern now was figuring out how the hell to find those goblins again.

| INVENTORY UPDATED – "Mission: Screw the Mayor" |

| Reinforced Pickaxe (Model: Olven Mk.II)

→ Type: Tool / Improvised Blunt Weapon

→ Durability: 79%

→ Effect: 1 damage to shelled enemies. 1 respect among miners.

| Hive Crystal (Cracked)

→ Type: Psychic Reagent

→ Effect: Reacts to emotions. Useful for triggering ntal blasts or simulating intense magical activity.

→ Risk: May whisper at night. Extrely unsettling.

| Food (Fernted forest fruit scraps)

→ Status: Questionable. Might be edible. Or a bioweapon. Untested.

| Silvarite Fragnt (small)

→ Type: Thermal Reagent

→ Effect: Burns for a limited ti. Can be used to ignite small areas or light paths.

→ Drawback: Attracts heat-sensitive monsters.

I walked among the trees, trying to follow the sa path I'd taken that night I almost beca spider food.The moon was starting to dip, and the sky had that indecisive blue-purple hue that only exists to ss with your biological clock.

The breeze picked up, the dew clung to everything, and I was slightly out of breath — because climbing hills has never been my thing.Not in my past life, not in this one with my ugly face and crooked leg.

At least this ti, I felt prepared.

If the mayor thought he could play the corruption ga and walk away clean... Well, maybe he could.But he wasn't counting on a half-orc with my charisma.

I reached the old mine entrance the way all great adventurers approach their epic destinations: wheezing, limping, and cursing every damn rock that tripped on the way.

The dense foliage along the trail began to thin, and there, between two rocky formations that looked like they were arguing over who was more useless, I saw the fissure.Not the sa one I'd used last ti. This one was different.

Narrower.Lower.More... secretive.

Or rather, more hidden, like soone didn't want it to be found.And nothing awakens my investigative instincts quite like an entrance that screams, "Ignore , I'm just a useless hole."

I crouched, brushed so branches aside, and took a sniff.Big mistake.

It slled like ancient mold, damp earth, and the kind of mildew that would make any cursed cheese proud. A proper underground welco mat.

That's when I noticed the markings — or rather, the system did.

| ENVIRONNTAL ANALYSIS: Alternate Entry – Ashveil Mine |

[Local Na]: "Fissure 12-C" (scrawled in fading charcoal on stone)

[Old Seals]: 2 containnt runes, broken

[Magical Presence]: Weak, but lingering

[Airflow]: Active (internal passage connects to larger chambers)

→ Entry requires crouching→ Environnt highly unstable. Collapse probability: 31%→ Detected odors: Iron, stale gas, and... perfu? (???)

| OBSERVATION |

→ Torn red ribbon caught on a branch→ Signs of recent access

The red ribbon made pause.

Soone had passed through here recently.And that "soone" was either very stupid, or trying not to look too secretive.

I crouched, took a deep breath — rookie mistake — and crawled in.

This cave wasn't like the main one.It was smaller, damper, and the floor was uneven stone, covered in white fungus. My footsteps echoed back warped — like the place had forgotten how to process sound after so much silence.

Just a few ters in, I ca face to face with sothing that definitely hadn't been here last ti:

| INTERACTABLE OBJECT FOUND |

[Na]: Magical Transport Crate (Model: Unauthorized Runic Seal)

[Condition]: Broken

[Runes]: Partial Arcane Reaction (blue coloration, scorched edges)

→ Once held sothing requiring magical containnt. Now empty.

→ Strong sll of sulfur and dried blood

→ Wooden corner inscription: "Administrative Property – Ashveil"

I crouched there, staring at the crate like I'd just discovered my neighbor was hiding uranium in the basent.

What the hell were they transporting from here?Magical creatures? Slaves? Forbidden artifacts?

I didn't know yet.

But one thing was clear:This hole stank of more than mold.

It reeked of misused power.

I smiled.

Finally... a real lead.

Or a perfectly laid trap.But that's fine. I've already faced goblins, spiders, kidnappings, angry redheads, and flying broomsticks.

Still, the cave was getting tighter. More suffocating.

Each step felt like a bet with the gods of claustrophobia.The air was thick — like it'd been recycled for centuries — full of dust, ti, and sin.

Now and then — and more frequently this ti — that little holographic screen in front of kept throwing notifications at my face.Almost like it was getting nervous.

| PASSIVE ENVIRONNTAL ANALYSIS – Activated |

→ Traces of ancient magical residue detected.

→ Instability in local runic field.

→ Psychic reagent in your inventory has begun to pulse faintly.→ Emotional abnormality present in area.

→ Partial rune vibration detected: "WATCH" (weak)

I turned my head slowly. The Hive Crystal inside my improvised pouch was gently pulsing — soft thuds, like the heartbeat of soone dreaming.

I frowned.

"You're... scared?" I asked the crystal, whispering like a functional lunatic.

It didn't answer, obviously.But the dim purple glow flaring at its base didn't feel very reassuring.

I kept walking.

And that's when I heard it.

Tac... tac... tck...

The sound was irregular. Like stones tumbling. But in the rhythm of a... word?

I moved carefully forward and soon entered a wider chamber, crudely carved.The floor was damp, the ceiling low, and in the center stood sothing that made stop.

A small stone altar.Covered in goblin inscriptions.And, stuck to it with dried blood — a broken human seal.

I stared at it, feeling the system humming quietly in the background, like it was holding its breath with .

| SPECIAL INTERACTABLE OBJECT |

[Na]: Crossed Runic Link Altar (Goblin/Human)

[Status]: Partially damaged

[Runes]: Link – Exchange – Control

→ Broken human rune suggests an abrupt termination of magical contract.

→ Dried blood at the base: humanoid, possibly recent.

→ Burnt paper fragnt affixed beneath rune: partially illegible.

→ Secondary inscription (translated): "The price has already been paid."

"This is not normal," I murmured, like I needed to convince myself of the obvious.

If goblins made this altar, why were human runes bound to it?

And why would a runic contract be here — along with human blood?

I knelt down carefully and pulled the paper fragnt stuck to the stone. It was scorched around the edges, but what I could still read said:

"...ensure flow maintenance until the end of the season. Avoid direct contact. Deliver via southern access."

And at the bottom, a circular stamp still visible:

"Ashveil Administration – Internal Protocol."

"Son of a bitch," I whispered, grinning.

I didn't have the full docunt.But now I had two things more valuable than gold:

A filthy enough context to burn reputations.And an official na stamped at the bottom.

Not a definitive proof — but a poisonous start.

I looked at the altar again. The "EXCHANGE" rune was still weak, but glowing. That ant sothing.

Maybe the mayor was trading sothing with the goblins.Maybe people. Souls. Protection. Or just freedom to mine unchecked.

But now, with this in hand, I could make it look like the worst-case scenario.

And when you're working with gossip, what it looks like is what counts.

| ITEM COLLECTED: Burned Contract Fragnt |

→ Partial proof of administrative involvent with the underground.

→ Can be used for reporting, blackmail, or forging the complete docunt.

I stood up, tucked the paper away carefully, and looked around one last ti.

The mine was alive.But not in a good way. In a corrupted way.

And I was the only fool with one foot inside and the other in the village newspaper.

Ti to start writing history.Even if it's the version I want to tell.

I adjusted my clothes, looked at the altar, stepped back twice, and like a true confident idiot, I opened my arms and declared:

"Too easy."

And then...

KRACK.

The stone under my feet groaned. Not with pain — with vengeance.A crack snaked across the floor like a hungry serpent.

KRKRKRK—BOOM.

Everything around turned unstable.

| ENVIRONNT ALERT: Collapse Detected! |

→ Runic chamber damage exceeded limit.

→ Local structure compromised due to unbalanced arcane extraction.

→ RECOMNDATION: IMDIATE ESCAPE.

"Oh, great," I muttered, already spinning on my heels.

Too late.

The altar exploded in blue flas, and an entire wall gave out —stones collapsing like a drunken house of cards.

I tried to run.

Failed — gracefully.

The ground beneath my feet gave way, and I fell hard — swallowed by my own cleverness.

For several seconds, it was just falling. Stone. Dust. Darkness.

I kept falling until I hit a floor I couldn't even see. Not even looking up.

And sohow — incredibly — I was still alive. Apparently I landed on sothing soft. No ti to check.

And no ti to check, because...

Even though I couldn't see a thing...

I could feel a breath in the dark. And it wasn't mine.