Chapter 13: Kisses, Coins, and Goblin Chaos

We all finally got back home, dragging our tired, battered selves into the comfort of familiarity. The kind of home where the floor isn’t going to attack you, where the walls don’t suddenly whisper secrets about a madman, and where your chairs—hopefully—don’t hide booby traps. Honestly, I felt like collapsing onto my bed and leaving the world to fend for itself. But then, as I sat there, staring at the ceiling, my brain decided it was a good time to replay the two kisses I had… yes, two.

The first kiss had been for the queen. The queen! I still couldn’t believe it. I mean, in most ordinary situations, kissing a queen would be the pinnacle of awkwardness, panic, and potential public execution—but I hadn’t done it for romance. Nope, I had done it to save her life. A noble cause, for sure, but the problem was that humans—and apparently queens too—aren’t really programmed to distinguish a “life-saving peck” from “I’ve had way too much adrenaline and might faint if I don’t smooch you” kiss.

And now, every time I see her, there’s this sharp, laser-like glare aimed straight at my soul. It’s not lethal—yet—but I could feel it. Like, I was getting the “I might consider tossing you into the dungeon for personal reasons” look, and honestly, it was slightly terrifying. I swore under my breath, muttering, “Thank God Lucy was normal about her kiss… or at least she pretended to be.” Lucy, bless her soul, had somehow understood the whole chaotic mess—or at least, that was my theory. Probably. I mean, she could also be faking it. That woman had mastered the art of giving a poker face so perfectly that even professional spies would retire out of sheer envy.

But I digress. Home had never felt so weirdly safe after chasing down a nearly sixty-year-old one-legged madman with an archery device that could easily double as a medieval torture instrument. And somehow, against all odds, we had caught that man and his two assistants. Finally, justice—or something like it—had been served.

“B did what?” Lily asked, still recovering from the mental image of the chaos.

“B… committed suicide,” I said quietly, trying not to make it sound like a normal thing. “In the Duke’s house, of all places. And as for A… that was the man himself. C was his assistant.”

“Wait, wait,” Urara interjected, her eyebrow performing a gravity-defying arch. “So, let me get this straight. You mean, the terrifying old man who could probably kill all of us with just his glare, and the guy who looked like he got lost on his way to a cosplay event, were working together with… another guy who rented library books?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding slowly. “And that’s just the beginning of the ridiculousness.”

Urara’s expression was priceless, a mixture of “I should probably call someone” and “I think my brain just filed this under ‘unbelievable’.”

“But what exactly happened?” Lilly asked, leaning in like she was about to uncover some ancient treasure.

“I… don’t know everything,” I admitted. “But I can guess—with full confidence,” I said, puffing my chest out like some superhero detective. “Trust me, my guess is probably better than reality. Reality tends to exaggerate anyway.”

Lucy, standing beside me with a faint smirk, rolled her eyes. “Better than reality, huh? Let’s see this magical guessing skill of yours then.”

“Okay,” I began, “so the madman and his assistants used the library… smartly. And by smartly, I mean the kind of smart that only works if people are too lazy to rent books and too dumb to notice codes scribbled in pencil on page 222, line 2, second word, last alphabet.”

“Excuse me,” Lucy interrupted, “you said what now?”

“Exactly what I said,” I continued, ignoring her. “Thanks to Alicia—yes, that genius friend of mine—I understood their code system. It’s absurdly complicated. Page numbers, line numbers, word numbers, last alphabet… it’s like they were trying to create the world’s most frustrating crossword puzzle.”

“Why would they do that?” Lily asked, squinting suspiciously.

“To hide illegal herbs!” I said dramatically. “Professor writes coded names of illegal drugs in books that nobody would normally rent. Then, one assistant rents the book, deciphers the code, collects the herbs, erases the code, and returns the book. It’s like hide-and-seek, but with potential felony charges.”

Urara clapped her hands slowly. “I see… so this entire chaos started because Kiara accidentally… did what?”

“I think she collected those books,” I said, rubbing my temple. “And then… well… the chaos was unleashed. The perfect storm of stupidity and coincidence. Honestly, I’ve had less confusing dreams than this.”

Lucy groaned dramatically. “Ahh, I knew something was fishy … almost.”

“Almost?” Lily tilted her head. “Is there a part you haven’t told us?”

I waved her off. “Details, details. Some things are better left a mystery. Like the Queen’s glare, for instance.”

At that moment, the queen herself strolled in, casually holding a watermelon half as if she had just plucked it from the garden herself. The watermelon seeds glittered like tiny jewels under the sunlight streaming in through the window. She bit into it, juices dripping down her chin, and said, in a tone that suggested she was the absolute monarch of both the room and my guilty conscience:

She was looking so pretty to be honest.

“He will be imprisoned for the next twenty years,” she said, pausing to chew. “Entire life there. Let him rot. Oh, and by the way, someone should get me more melon.”

Lucy snorted. “Your majesty’s priorities are… impeccable.”

The room went silent for a moment as we all considered the absurdity of the situation. A madman with a leg disability, a secret herbal empire disguised as library codes, a suicide in the Duke’s house, and a queen who clearly took her melons seriously. Somehow, we had survived all of it.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to digest everything while simultaneously wondering if my life would ever be normal again. Probably not. Not when your everyday grocery store run could turn into a coded herb hunt orchestrated by retired archers and obsessed librarians.

Then Lily, clearly unsatisfied with the mundane “he’s in prison” answer, asked, “So… what now? Do we just… go back to normal life?”

“Normal?” I said with a humorless laugh. “Have you seen us? Our normal is clearly incompatible with reality. We can’t even go to the library without feeling like we’re about to stumble upon another coded criminal empire.”

Urara nodded in agreement. “She’s right. Our lives are like… a series of unfortunate events, but with more sarcasm.”

Lucy, ever practical, added, “Well, at least we can enjoy the small victories. The madman is caught. His assistants are… either dead, arrested, or in hiding. And we still have our sanity. Sort of.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Sort of? That’s not comforting.”

She smiled faintly. “It’s reality, Erik.”

Meanwhile, the queen had finished her melon and was now contemplating the ceiling. “You know,” she said, thoughtfully, “this could have been avoided if people just respected library silence rules. Libraries are sacred. Never underestimate the power of a quiet room and a suspiciously unused book.”

“Noted,” I muttered under my breath. “Never underestimate the library. Got it. I’ll add it to my growing list of life lessons that probably won’t help me survive next week.”

At this point, the air was thick with a mixture of relief, lingering tension, and the faint scent of watermelon juice. Lily, always the emotional thermometer of the group, suddenly jumped up.

“I need a cup of coffee,” she said. “Something strong. Something that could potentially erase the last twenty minutes from my memory. Or maybe the last week.”

Urara rolled her eyes. “You think coffee is going to fix this? We’ve survived a madman, coded herb books, and suicidal assistants. Coffee won’t help.”

“I disagree,” I said, quietly hoping that a cup of coffee might somehow stop my brain from replaying the two kisses over and over. “Coffee fixes everything. Well, maybe not everything, but it’s a start.”

Lucy laughed. “At least someone’s thinking practically. I vote coffee for everyone.”

“Agreed!” Lily said, nearly knocking over a chair in her excitement. “Coffee for all! Extra sugar! And maybe something to forget about code books forever!”

The queen, chewing on another piece of melon, muttered, “Coffee? Fine. But only if it comes with melons. And silence. Absolute silence. No one rents books they shouldn’t be renting while drinking coffee.”

We all laughed—except, of course, me, who was still processing the sheer ridiculousness of the entire ordeal. Kisses, madmen, library codes, suicidal assistants, and a queen obsessed with melons. My life had officially become a sitcom written by a lunatic.

As I poured myself a cup of coffee, I glanced at Lucy. She gave me a small, knowing smile—still alive, still sane. That was probably the closest thing to victory I could hope for today.

And as the sun streamed through the windows, illuminating the chaos, the melons, and our slightly scorched egos, I realized something important: maybe the world didn’t need normal. Maybe all it needed was us, slightly cracked but strangely functional, sipping coffee and surviving one ridiculous day at a time.

After everything had settled, the Duke and his daughter Kiara finally showed up at our house. They came dressed in all the pomp and polish that made them look like they had just stepped out of a royal fashion magazine—seriously, the kind of outfits that make you wonder how normal people even survive in such dazzling brilliance without tripping over their own sleeves.

“Thank you… for everything,” the Duke said, his voice booming like he was narrating a dramatic epic. “You’ve saved our lives, stopped a criminal conspiracy, and preserved the integrity of my library!”

I nodded, trying to hide my excitement. The truth was, I wasn’t just thrilled about their gratitude… I was thrilled about the gold coins. Finally, the reward I had been waiting for! The Duke handed me four gold coins—shiny, heavy, and beautiful. I already had one coin from an earlier adventure, so that made a grand total of five gold coins. Five!

I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear. My brain was doing the mental equivalent of cartwheels. Five coins might not buy me the moon, but in my world, it was basically the moon, the stars, and a small black hole of happiness.

Naturally, generosity—or maybe my slightly twisted sense of fairness—kicked in. I decided to convert two of my gold coins into silver and give them to Urara, Lily, and Lucy. I figured, hey, teamwork makes the dream work, and they had certainly earned it.

Queen, noticing my sudden philanthropic mood, raised an eyebrow and asked, “And what about me? Aren’t you going to give me some gold as well?”

I laughed and said, “You’re the queen… you already have lots of money, and yet you never gave me anything. You eat freely in my house, and now I’m paying you? That seems… slightly absurd, doesn’t it?”

Queen narrowed her eyes at me. Not in anger, just in that regal, I-am-above-you-but-also-hilarious kind of way. “Hmph. So, you consider yourself generous then?”

“Of course,” I said, puffing out my chest dramatically. “And Lucy and Lily, you both are famous in your own ways, yet you never gave me any gold either. So, as an extremely kind and benevolent person, I am rewarding you with silver!”

Urara, who had been quietly sitting and observing, suddenly jumped up with the enthusiasm of a puppy discovering snow for the first time. Her eyes sparkled like someone had just handed her the secrets of the universe. “Oh my gosh! Thank you! Really, thank you!”

To be fair, Urara wasn’t exactly loaded. Well… at least, that’s what everyone thought. Who knows what her real family wealth looked like? Maybe she was secretly a billionaire hiding under a cloak of poverty. Stranger things had happened.

Anyway, after a few days, something even more surprising happened. Urara’s sister sent over a huge pile of new clothes. And when I say huge, I mean it: piles upon piles of colorful outfits, capes, accessories, boots, and some things I wasn’t even sure how to wear without accidentally tying myself to a chair.

“Look at all these!” Urara squealed, practically bouncing off the walls. “She’s coming to visit us soon! She’ll see me… she’ll finally see me!”

I grinned at her sheer excitement. It was adorable and slightly infectious. Suddenly, our house felt like a mini fashion palace, with clothes draped over chairs, beds, and even the occasional kitchen counter.

Meanwhile, the queen finally had to attend the royal court after a long, long time. Apparently, her father had reached his breaking point. Managing a kingdom was clearly no easy task, and dealing with a lazy, melon-obsessed daughter wasn’t helping. The royal messenger had scolded her so sternly that the queen looked like she had just been informed that melons were banned forever.

Lucy, on the other hand, had departed for a long tour to protect some kingdom affairs in another city. She had packed enough weapons, scrolls, and general “serious detective vibes” to intimidate an army of goblins—or worse, an entire council of fussy dukes. I wished her luck, but secretly, I was happy she wasn’t here to witness the next round of chaos I was about to get into.

That left me with Urara, who was gleeful and chatty as ever, sitting across from me while we contemplated our next adventure.

“What should we do next?” I asked her, spinning a pen between my fingers. “Dungeon tour? Dragon cave? A mildly unsafe stroll through the forest that might be haunted?”

Urara’s eyes lit up. “Dungeon tour! Please! That sounds amazing! Imagine all the treasure we could find!”

“Yes, yes!” I said, warming to the idea. “And, uh… hopefully minimal death this time. Fingers crossed.”

Meanwhile, Lily was busy with experiments, which in our household meant she was treating my kitchen, bedroom, and occasionally my poor shoes as her personal lab. She even started using my appliances to save time, which sounded efficient until I realized my blender now had a mysterious bubbling green substance inside it that smelled like it could either cure or mildly poison someone.

“Lily,” I said cautiously, “are you sure that’s safe?”

“Of course it’s safe,” she replied, not looking up from her bubbling concoction. “Mostly safe. Statistically mostly safe.”

“Statistically?” I muttered, backing away slowly. “That’s… comforting.”

Just as I was beginning to wonder if my life would ever return to something resembling normal, my system popped up again. You know the type: sudden, intrusive, all-powerful, and completely unreasonable. The text blinked on the air in neon letters that made it impossible to ignore.

GET 3 HIGH LEVEL GOBLINS
REWARDS: 1 CAR

I blinked. Three times. Just to make sure my eyes weren’t lying.

“Car?” I whispered. “Excuse me… what?”

I tilted my head. “Car? Are goblins even… mechanical? Or… do they somehow magically build cars?”

How the hell is the system going to give me a car from three goblins? I mean, I’ve seen goblins steal socks, scream at tiny humans, and cause general mayhem… but cars? That’s… next-level.

Still, adventure called. My brain went into overdrive, thinking about weapons, strategies, and how I was going to explain this situation to Urara without scaring her.

“Okay,” I said, standing tall. “We’re going on another adventure. Goblins, dungeon tours… let’s do this!”

Urara cheered, clapping her hands like a tiny storm of excitement. “Yes! Let’s go! This is going to be amazing! Goblins, treasure… maybe even chocolate!”

I groaned. “Urara, I really hope you don’t bring chocolate to a goblin fight.”

“Why not?” she asked innocently. “They might like chocolate. It’s a peace offering!”

Peace offering. With goblins. Sure. That would end well.

I sighed, realizing my life had officially become a blend of adventure, comedy, chaos, and very questionable logic. But hey, at least I had gold coins, silver, a slightly spoiled Urara, a melon-obsessed queen, and a system that apparently had no understanding of physics, mechanics, or basic reality.

Packing my gear for the dungeon, I glanced at Urara. She was bouncing around, clearly imagining all sorts of treasures and heroic moments.

“You ready?” I asked.

“Absolutely! Let’s go!” she shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

I nodded. “Then let’s find these goblins… and maybe, if I’m lucky, figure out how they’re going to turn into a car. Somehow.”

As we stepped out of the house, I looked back at Lily, who was muttering about chemical reactions and saying something about “efficiency ratios” while stirring my poor blender like it was a potion cauldron.

And I looked at my gold coins, safely tucked in my pocket, glinting like tiny promises of glory, adventure, and probably a lot of headaches.

“Here we go,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Another adventure. Another disaster. And, hopefully… another car.”

And with that, we marched—or rather, carefully tiptoed—toward the dungeon. Goblins awaited, adventure awaited, and who knows what ridiculous twists and turns the next day would bring. But one thing was certain: my life would never, ever, ever be boring.