Who Says I'm Not a Proper Adventurer?
Chapter 16: Talent: Steel Stomach

Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Talent: Steel Stomach

The other was [Steel Stomach].

This Racial Talent was incredibly powerful, granting Goblins the ability to digest almost any organic matter.

Whether it was raw meat, rotting corpses, or moldy roots, they could eat it and convert it into Energy, and they possessed an extremely high immunity to most foodborne diseases.

In an Otherworld without food safety regulations, it was a powerful form of life insurance.

Lance was filled with anticipation.

’I just don’t know how the selection pool is determined in this world.’

’Can I only draw from the most basic Racial Talents?’

’Or can I randomly draw from the entire Goblin talent spectrum, including all mutated individuals?’

Lance recalled the records in the Monster Manual.

Although Goblins were weak, their genes were a complete mess.

Among all Demon races, the lower-tiered the creature, the worse its genetic stability tended to be.

This instability was a double-edged sword.

It led to the frailty of individual Goblins, but also gave them an extremely high probability of mutation.

From the incredibly strong Big Goblins, to Goblin Shamans capable of casting Magic-like Skills, and even Flying Goblins that grew Wings—the variety was staggering.

Conversely, for powerful creatures at the apex, like Giant Dragons.

Their racial homogeneity was extremely high, and their genetic structure was as stable as bedrock.

While this ensured that every young dragon was born with a high baseline of Power.

But if they did undergo an extremely rare mutation, it often signified the birth of a monster that transcended the limits of its race, enough to cause a cataclysm.

Lance looked at the "4/20" progress bar, his anticipation growing even more.

As everyone knew, in all the Demon Atlases, Goblins were the most numerous low-level creatures.

For Lance, gathering the remaining sixteen research points was simply a matter of spending more time clearing out these green-skinned pests.

It wasn’t a difficult problem at all.

Of course, in the game settings Lance remembered, killing was never the only way to advance Research Progress.

Certain specific interactions could also provide a large amount of research experience, and some even had exclusive animated CGs.

But looking at the Goblins’ ugly mugs...

Lance felt it was safer to stick to the path of physical salvation. As for those bolder experiments, he’d save them for when he encountered a Succubus or an Elf.

The most pressing matter at hand was the increasingly turbulent environment.

Whether it was the Magic Power rampaging in the Underground City before, or the recent expansion of creature activity on the forest’s outskirts, the source behind both remained shrouded in mystery.

Lance had a very strong feeling.

The surrounding environment was like a pot of water being slowly heated, growing more and more unstable.

Periodic tremors would be one thing, but he was afraid this was a precursor to some great catastrophe.

But pinning his hopes on luck was clearly not his style.

"Can’t stop training."

Lance looked at the new Short Bow in the corner and muttered to himself.

Before, in order to register as an Adventurer, he had pushed himself to train intensely for half a month straight.

But once he got his certification, that tense motivation slackened, and he found it hard to maintain his high-intensity training pace.

’This won’t do.’

Whether it was to hunt Goblins and accumulate points or to prepare for unknown risks that might erupt in the future, he had to get serious again.

After all, to possess a Divine Skill like [Hevagmir’s Boiling] and still slack off like an ordinary person would be an outrageous waste.

While it was not yet completely dark, Lance sat at his desk and began to replan his financial situation on a piece of paper.

He still kept his job as a Copyist, working five days a week, and spent the remaining two days taking on manageable gathering quests in the forest.

Recently, due to his increased physical activity, his food expenses had also risen accordingly.

Lance scribbled and calculated on the paper, finally arriving at a number.

After daily expenses, he could save a net total of about sixteen Silver Coins per month.

However, to practice his Bow and Arrow skills and consolidate his Swordsmanship, he would also have to pay a 10-Copper-Coin facility maintenance fee to the Guild’s logistics department every single day.

By that calculation, it would be an extra expenditure of 3 Silver Coins each month.

Lance looked at the number, feeling a painful pinch, and recounted on his fingers again and again.

"I’ll observe for a month first."

He drew a heavy circle on the paper.

This next month would serve as both an adaptation period for himself and an observation period for his surroundings.

If he gradually adapted and his strength allowed, he could quit his Copyist job and focus on being a full-time Adventurer.

Conversely, if the situation in Copper Creek Forest worsened, causing the number of safe gathering quests to plummet or the risk to exceed his tolerance, then he would absolutely, without hesitation, pull back and live honestly on his meager Copyist salary.

He didn’t want to be like those wandering Adventurers who lived on the edge, forced to pack up and find a new town to make a living in at the slightest sign of trouble.

Lance’s goal was very clear: to lie low and live safely in Gray Rock Town until he saved up enough travel money to get to Ostrara.

Besides, there was Nia’s vibrant smile, Amber’s hearty laugh, and Flora’s blushing face here.

These vibrant people gave him a sense of belonging in this strange Otherworld.

Rather than struggling alone in a strange city, it was more pleasant to huddle together for warmth here.

"I hope that Potion Research pays off."

Lance sighed and cast his gaze toward the pile of moss air-drying on the windowsill.

As long as he could figure out the improved formula for the [hemostatic ointment], he would have another stable source of income.

Once he figured out that improved formula, whether he used it himself or sold it on consignment, it would be a stable source of extra income.

As for the [Swordsman] Profession, which still seemed a distant goal, the sheer number of daunting Attribute requirements was enough to make him dismiss the thought of changing Profession anytime soon.

’Better to be down-to-earth, train up my basic Skills, and stack up Attribute Points before making any other plans.’

’Being overly ambitious is a shortcut to an early grave.’

’I should also look for information on other Professions. Maybe there’s one that suits me better.’

As he listed his goals, both large and small, on the paper, his previously jumbled thoughts began to settle down.

By now, the sky outside the window had gradually darkened.

Lance pushed open the small attic window, and the evening breeze rushed in, carrying the aroma of cooking food.

On the street below, the townsfolk, having worked all day, were heading home in twos and threes. The sound of children playing and the faint melody of an accordion from a distant tavern intertwined.

The entirety of Gray Rock Town was bathed in the warm, lazy, orange-red glow of the sunset.

This tranquility, full of the lively air of daily life, slowly eased Lance’s tense nerves, and he even found himself becoming somewhat intoxicated by it.

He just leaned on the windowsill like that, watching the giant red sun in the distance slowly sink below the continuous mountain range.

...

「At the same moment.」

Several hundred kilometers from Gray Rock Town, in the northeastern part of the Iris Kingdom.

An astonishingly wide river flowed through the plains. Because its bed was paved with white Chalk Stone, the water took on a unique milky-white color under the sun, which was the origin of the White River Province’s name.