I Stopped Simping and the Heroines Lost Their Minds

Arthur stayed crouched behind the fallen log, his eyes locked on the two goblin guards.

He unslung the wooden longbow from his back and pulled an iron-tipped arrow from his quiver.

A week ago, just testing the bowstring had left him writhing in the dirt with a paralyzed arm. But after seven days of brutal, agonizing repetition, his Strength had reached 9. It still wasn’t great, but it was enough to pull the string without snapping his own tendons.

He knocked the arrow.

[Trait Activated: Eagle Eye (Lv.5)]

His vision zoomed in. The world around him slowed down. The ugly, warty face of the left goblin filled his sight. With his [Perception: 85], aiming wasn’t even a challenge. It felt like using an aimbot.

He held his breath, ignoring the familiar burning in his weak lungs, and released the string.

Thwip.

The arrow crossed the fifty yards in a split second and buried itself directly into the left goblin’s eye socket. The monster dropped like a sack of potatoes, dead before it hit the ground.

The second goblin blinked, looking down at its dead companion in stupid confusion. It opened its mouth to screech an alarm.

Thwip.

A second arrow punched through its throat. It choked on its own blood, dropped its crude spear, and fell over into the dirt.

Arthur lowered the bow, letting out a quiet, wheezing breath.

Perfect. He didn’t waste any time. He activated his [Soundless Steps] and sprinted across the clearing. He dragged the two dead bodies into the bushes, clearing the entrance.

Then, he took off his heavy canvas bag.

This is why I’m broke, Arthur thought, pulling out his supplies.

He didn’t buy fancy magic scrolls or enchanted swords. He had spent his last 400 credits at a shady alchemy shop in the city’s back alleys.

He pulled out a heavy, fireproof tarp and a box of thick iron pitons. Working quickly, he draped the tarp over the cave entrance and hammered the pitons into the rock face with a heavy stone, sealing the cave shut. He left only a small, six-inch gap at the very bottom.

Finally, he reached into his bag and pulled out five round, black spheres.

Toxic Smoke Bombs.

They were cheap, highly illegal in city limits, and produced a massive amount of dense, suffocating, poisonous smoke.

Arthur pulled the pins on all five bombs. They immediately started hissing, leaking thick, yellow-green smoke.

He rolled them one by one through the small gap at the bottom of the tarp. Then, he hammered the final piton into the rock, sealing the den completely airtight.

He took a few steps back, a dark, twisted grin spreading across his face.

Enjoy the gas chamber, you green bastards, Arthur thought, letting out a dark chuckle. Today I will be Hitler. Ha.

It was a sick, twisted joke, the kind of toxic gamer thought that would get him crucified on the forums back home. But he didn’t care. This was survival.

He grabbed his bow, climbed up a sturdy oak tree fifty yards away, and settled onto a thick branch. He knocked another arrow, aiming directly at the sealed tarp.

If any goblin managed to tear through the heavy canvas and escape the gas, he would snipe them instantly.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

Five minutes passed. The forest was dead silent.

Then, the muffled sounds started. Frantic scratching. Desperate, guttural screeches echoing from deep inside the stone cave. Thuds against the rock walls as dozens of goblins choked, panicked, and trampled each other in the dark.

Arthur sat perfectly still, watching the show.

Ding. A translucent blue window popped up in his peripheral vision.

[1x Goblin killed. 10 EXP gained.]

[1x Goblin killed. 10 EXP gained.]

[1x Goblin killed. 10 EXP gained.]

The notifications started rolling in. At first, it was just a few. Then, the blue text started scrolling down his vision like a waterfall.

[1x Goblin killed.]

[1x Goblin killed.]

[1x Goblin Shaman killed. 50 EXP gained.]

[1x Hobgoblin killed. 100 EXP gained.]

He sat in the tree for an entire hour. The muffled screams from the cave had completely stopped after twenty minutes. The blue text kept raining down as the lingering poison claimed the strongest survivors.

Finally, the notifications stopped.

Arthur lowered his bow and stretched his cramping shoulders. He had just wiped out an entire dungeon ecosystem without taking a single point of damage.

Two new, golden system boxes suddenly flashed in front of his face.

[Condition Met. Title Acquired: Goblin Slayer]

Effect: Attack damage increased by 50% against all Goblin-type monsters.

Arthur nodded. That was standard. But the second box made his brow twitch.

[Condition Met. Title Acquired: Despicable Schemer]

You have committed a massacre using underhanded, cowardly methods without engaging in honorable combat.Effect: Honorable Knights and Clerics will feel a natural aversion to you.Effect: Bandits, Assassins, and Shrewd Schemers will have a highly favorable impression of you upon first meeting.

Arthur stared at the screen and literally spat down onto the forest floor.

”Honorable combat? Kiss my ass,” Arthur muttered.

What the hell was righteous chivalry going to give him? A shiny medal and an early grave?

If he had walked into that cave with a sword and shouted a battle cry, he would have been overwhelmed, stabbed fifty times, and eaten alive in three minutes.

What only matters is that I am alive, and they are dead, he thought coldly, dismissing the screens.

He climbed down from the tree. The smoke bombs would have burned out by now, but the gas would still be thick. He tied a wet cloth around his mouth and nose, walked up to the cave, and pulled the tarp down.

A thick cloud of yellow smoke billowed out, carrying the horrific stench of death.

Arthur waited for the cave to air out. It was time to walk in, step over the corpses, and claim his hidden piece.