...
In truth, within the human-dominated Grimsby Empire, the goblin population was relatively small, with most living in the Artisan District or engaging in underground trade.
Goblins capable of piloting combat chanical Puppets were even rarer.
Lynch had seen plenty in the gas and films of his previous life, but this was the first ti he had seen a chanical Puppet with his own eyes in this world.
Gazing at the hulking machine with its rugged industrial feel, and listening to the goblin’s characteristically arrogant shouts, he found the experience quite refreshing for a mont.
But novelty was one thing; the mission couldn’t wait.
With a re thought, Lynch issued a command through his ntal link.
In an instant, the shadows all around the ruins seed to co to life.
From behind rocks, by broken walls, in clumps of weeds... one Skeleton Soldier after another erged from every corner, rapidly forming an even larger encirclent.
The seven or eight Blue Scarves, the goblin’s chanical Puppet, and the three girls they had cornered were all trapped within this new circle.
At the sa ti, Serena and the six Naga Warriors she led also revealed themselves.
Wielding their weapons, they slithered forward on their serpentine tails. Their azure, vertical pupils coldly locked onto their targets, sealing off every possible escape route.
The Blue Scarves, who had been so aggressive just monts ago, acting as if they were the hunters, suddenly found their smiles frozen in place. Their legs began to tremble, and their arrogant deanor vanished without a trace.
The goblin pilot in the cockpit’s arrogant "WAHAHAHA" caught in his throat, turning into a choked "Guh..."
Even the lifeless chanical Puppet seed to sense the palpable killing intent in the air.
The WHIRRING chainsaw slowed, its roar dying down. Soon, the only sound was the mournful whistle of the evening wind through the ruined walls, making the scene all the more grim.
It was unclear who started it.
With a CLANG, a sword fell to the ground.
Then, as if setting off a chain reaction, a series of CLANGS and CLATTERS rang out as the Blue Scarves’ weapons slipped from their hands and hit the ground.
They all dropped to their knees in surrender, bowing their heads in resignation, not daring to breathe too loudly.
At that mont, the Black Corpse, its aura more ferocious than ever after just advancing to Tier Two, swaggered up to the chanical Puppet known as the "Wasteland Roarer." Raising a claw, it knocked twice on the riveted armor. BANG! BANG!
How imnse was the Black Corpse’s brute strength now?
Two huge dents instantly appeared on the armor. The goblin inside the cockpit was rattled so badly his head spun, and even his goggles were knocked askew.
He hastily fumbled with the control levers.
The chanical Puppet made a HISSING sound like deflating air as its power core gradually shut down, grinding to a complete halt.
The goblin then cautiously pushed open the hatch and climbed down. He then, quite knowingly, turned to face the chanical Puppet, raised his hands high above his head, and pressed them against the cold tal leg, striking a textbook "ready for inspection" pose.
Serena led the Nagas forward and, with a baffling level of skill, bound the Blue Scarves and the goblin one by one. They then hauled the entire group before Lynch.
Lynch, still mounted on Red Rabbit, glanced over the captives. "Next," he said, his voice cold, "you will be interrogated separately."
"Write down everything you know of value: the situation inside the Storm Mine, the strength of its defenses, the plans of the Necromancer Anthony and the Draenei Brotherhood, and what you were doing here. Everything."
He paused, a deathly chill spreading from him as his voice turned colder still. "I’ll be using an elimination system. Whoever provides the most detailed and valuable intelligence... I might consider letting you live."
"As for the two who provide the least intelligence..." His voice took on a sinister edge. "I wouldn’t mind having you serve my Undead Legion... in another form. Gheheheh..."
The captives broke out in a cold sweat and began to rack their brains, desperate to recall any piece of information, no matter how trivial—even rumors or gossip would do. They looked at the n around them, their once "inseparable" companions, and saw only rivals.
Desperate to live, the captives all scrambled to cooperate.
Ophelia, Lilith, and Avril, along with the two accompanying militian and even the Nagas, volunteered for the job. Each took a captive to a different spot to begin the interrogations.
The scene looked chaotic, but the process was remarkably efficient.
「Just then.」
Jinke, the goblin artisan who had been traveling with the Undead Army, began to hop up and down excitedly. He called out to Lynch, "My Lord, I want to help you interrogate that cunning goblin pilot! I can tell just by looking at him, he’s an enforcer and pilot for the Goblin Venture Capital Company!"
"They specialize in swindling honest artisans like us and forcing us to work for them! I was one of the ones they tricked into coming to this godforsaken base."
"My Lord, I guarantee I can make him talk! I can get all the information about the goblin artisans in the mine. I know exactly how scum like him think!"
’Goblin Venture Capital Company?’
’Uh...’
’I have to admit, goblins truly are a peculiar race.’
Still, if this goblin artisan was willing to be a turncoat and switch sides, Lynch was happy to welco him.
With a wave of his hand, a Skeleton Soldier swung its blade and sliced through the goblin’s ropes.
"Go have a nice ’chat’ with your kinsman," Lynch said.
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