The Girl, the Goblins, and the Wound That Wouldn’t Stay

Ren woke with a gasp. His chest throbbed. He could still feel the pain from the gunshot—sharp and real—but he wasn’t dead.

Grass rustled beneath him. A breeze kissed his skin.

He blinked rapidly, taking in the endless stretch of green, the serene blue sky above, and the cool, peaceful wind that carried the scent of flowers. He lay in a wide open field, surrounded by nature so vibrant and untouched that it almost hurt to look at.

Slowly, he sat up, wincing. The aches were still there—in his ribs, his shoulders, his gut—but when he touched his body, there were no wounds. No blood. No bullet hole.

"Was that... just a bad dream?" he muttered. "No... it can't be. It was real."

Then another thought struck him. Is that girl safe?

He stood shakily. His muscles protested, as if remembering every blow from the robbery, but his skin was unbroken. His shirt, however, was still torn from the struggle. It was as if his body had healed but remembered the pain. He reached into his pockets—front, back, even inside his jacket.

Empty.

No phone. No wallet. Not even his house keys.

Just him, torn clothes, and questions. His heart pounded faster.

He looked around. This wasn’t Earth.
Am I really... in another world?
The thought struck hard, but the evidence was all around him.

Endless fields rolled into the horizon, with misty mountains rising like sleeping titans. A river murmured nearby. The whole place felt like a dream he didn’t want to wake from.

I’ve never felt so at peace... he thought.

His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday. He remembered skipping lunch, then being too late for dinner before the robbery.

He turned toward the sound of water. "I should find that river."

He walked slowly, limping slightly, across the soft grass and into the edge of a thick forest. The trees were tall and unfamiliar, their leaves broad and shimmering in the light. The sound of water grew louder with every step.

Then, he heard something else.

A voice.

"Back off! I said, stay away from me!"

A girl’s voice. Firm, but strained.

Ren froze.

He crept closer until he could see the riverbank.

Three small figures surrounded a girl, their posture aggressive. They looked like... goblins. Short, green-skinned, twisted faces. They held crude weapons—a knife, a rusted club, a rope.

Goblins? That’s fantasy stuff, he thought, dumbfounded. This really isn’t Earth...

The girl stood her ground. She looked to be around his age, with long black hair tied loosely behind her and sharp, determined eyes. Her outfit was something out of a fantasy anime—a worn yet elegant tunic, leather boots, and a satchel slung across her back.

"Give us the bag and we won’t hurt you," one of the goblins said with a mischievous grin.

"This has nothing to do with you," she snapped.

"Grab her! We’ll take her to the boss!"

One of them lunged.

The girl stepped back and pulled a sword from behind her. She held it defensively, eyes narrowing.

Ren knew he had to help.

He scanned the ground and spotted a bamboo pole lying nearby. He snatched it up, gripping it tightly.

"Hey!" he shouted, stepping into the open. "Three on one? That’s not fair, even for monsters."

The goblins turned to him, blinking.

"What’s with the weird clothes?" one sneered.

Ren glanced down. His shirt was torn, his slacks dirty. Office wear.

"Of course you goblins don’t know what a tie is," he muttered.

He moved closer, trying to look braver than he felt.

"Let her go. I’ll take you on if I have to."

The goblins laughed. They didn’t seem afraid at all. It was probably routine for them.

The girl, however, used the distraction. With a sharp cry, she stepped forward and brought the flat of her sword crashing into a goblin’s head. The crack echoed as it stumbled back. She spun, blocking another blow and using the momentum to knock the second one off balance before dodging the third.

Ren stared, stunned. She was fast. Fierce. Graceful.

Her hair flowed like a banner behind her as she moved. Her strikes were sharp and precise. In seconds, two of the goblins were groaning on the ground.

The third stepped back, knife in hand.

"What were you trying to do?" she snapped at Ren. "You know how dangerous goblins are?"

He gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was trying to protect you."

"You? Protect me? Don’t make me laugh."

Then—

A sharp pain in his back.

Ren gasped.

The third goblin had snuck behind him and stabbed him in the back. He stumbled forward.

The girl reacted instantly. She turned and slammed her weapon into the last goblin’s face. The creature dropped like a sack of rocks.

She rushed to Ren.

Blood was already soaking through his shirt.

"You idiot," she muttered, tearing a strip of cloth from her tunic. She pressed it against the wound and wrapped it tightly.

"We need to get you to a healer. My village isn’t far."

Ren nodded weakly. "Okay... lead the way."

They walked slowly, the girl supporting him when he faltered. They crossed a small ridge, and a village came into view—rustic wooden homes, lantern-lit paths, and the soft sounds of life.

Farmers worked the fields. Children played near a stream. Birds chirped in the distance.

The girl led him to a small house.

Inside, a man with white hair and calm eyes examined the wound.

"W-What in the world...?"

The wound was no longer bleeding. It was closing up before their eyes.

"That’s impossible," the healer whispered.

The girl leaned in, shocked. "It was deeper before. I swear it was."

The healer stared at Ren. "Are you using any healing magic?

Ren shook his head weakly.

The healer stepped back slowly, almost unnerved. "This shouldn’t be happening. Your body... it’s healing itself. But not like any magic I’ve seen. It’s as if your flesh doesn’t want to break."

He looked Ren in the eyes. "Who are you and where did you come from?"

Ren didn’t know how to answer. He lowered his gaze, hesitating for a moment.
"I don’t remember anything before waking up in that field," he said, lying — eyes shifting away.
He knew no one would believe the truth anyway.

The healer tied the last part of the bandage and gave a cautious nod. "You’ll be okay," he said. "But I want to keep an eye on you. That body of yours—it’s not normal."

The girl helped Ren back outside.

The village was peaceful. The sun still hung high in the sky.

As Ren and the girl walked through the main path, villagers paused to look at him—some with curiosity, others with mild suspicion. He was clearly an outsider.

She led him to a larger wooden building at the edge of the square.

"This is our guild," the girl said. "I work here. You can rest inside."

They stepped into a noisy, bustling hall filled with voices, laughter, and the clatter of mugs. Adventurers of all kinds crowded around long wooden tables—some arm-wrestling, others bragging about their latest hunts, a few passed out from drink. The place smelled of sweat, grilled meat, and something slightly burnt. A massive quest board stood against the far wall, buried under paper slips. The floor was scuffed from too many boots, but the energy in the room was unmistakable—raw, wild, and alive.

As soon as she entered, a few heads turned.

One man raised an eyebrow. "Yo, back already? That’s fast."

Another grinned as he spotted Ren trailing behind her. "What’s this? You pick up a boyfriend on the way back, Rachel?"

"Looks like someone’s type," another teased. "Dark hair, weird clothes—classic outsider charm."

Ren blinked as someone handed him a mug. The liquid inside had a strong, bitter scent—definitely alcohol. He took a cautious sip, wincing slightly at the burn, but it settled warmly in his stomach.

"He’s not my boyfriend," Rachel snapped. "If anything, I saved him"

That got a few chuckles, but their teasing quickly turned to quiet curiosity as she explained the goblin ambush—how Ren had stepped in, gotten stabbed, and somehow stayed standing.

The mood shifted.

One older adventurer leaned back, arms crossed. “Wait… stabbed with a goblin blade and he’s still walking around?”

The girl nodded. “The healer patched him up, but the wound... it just stopped bleeding. The doctor said it was strange. Like his skin didn’t want to tear.”

Everyone looked at Ren.

He stiffened.

“Goblin blades carry all kinds of nasty stuff. Even if the wound’s small, the fever after is what kills most rookies.” said a girl with short green hair.

Another adventurer leaned in. Younger, with narrow eyes and a half-smirk. “You’re not from around here, right? You one of those Immortals? From the Northern Continent?”

Ren furrowed his brow. “The what?”

“The cursed land where death doesn’t stick,” the man said. “There are stories... about people like you.”

More heads turned toward him now. The friendly mood from earlier had faded. The laughter was gone.

“Tell us more,” someone said. “About these ‘Immortals.’”

The air inside the guild grew heavier. Tense. Curious.

They didn’t look at Ren like an outsider anymore...

They looked at him like something they couldn’t understand.

Like something not quite human.

To be continued...