A Gamer's Guide 192 (Patreon)

“Kitty’s awake and fully healed!” Coda exclaims loudly to the gathered crew members. Now that I’m counting them, there are actually only nine of them. Can you really have an entire ship with only ten people to operate it? Is that even possible? Either way, the average level is nineteen, which is pretty damn high. More importantly, their reaction to me is very mixed. A few are celebrating, others are neutral, and a few are looking at me as though I personally killed their puppy. Well, I say ‘a few’, but it’s actually only one. It’s just that his eyes hold all the venom of a full group. “In other words,” Coda continues, “those who betted that he’d heal within a single day have won! That one person being myself. Cough it up, friends!”

…Betted on what-now?

While I’m standing here as lanky as I am confused, people reluctantly walk up to Coda, grumbling and mumbling as they hand him coins and pressed metal bars. Grinning to himself, Coda happily pulls out a pair of small satchels, depositing half in each. And then, he holds out one of them to me. I blink at it. “What are you…?”

“You’re the one who healed, aren’t you? It’s only fair you get half,” Coda says casually, as though this isn’t one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I almost reach out to grab it, only to snatch my own hand back.

“No—no, I can’t. If I take that stuff it’ll disappear when I clear the floor. That’s your money, so—”

“You’re arrogant to the point of rejecting a gift given in kindness?” Saying so, Coda shakes his head disapprovingly, and to put salt in the wound, a few of the nearby pirates go so far as to mirror the movement. “We may not know each other too well, but I had thought better of you, Kitty.”

I clench my teeth. Th—this guy…!

“Fine!” I exclaim, snatching the little pouch from his hand. “But don’t blame me when you never see this money again!”

He looks at me with an odd mixture of entertainment and confusion, though I have a feeling the latter is for show. “I didn’t expect anything different. What kind of goblin would demand his gift returned?”

U—ugh… For some reason, this guy feels like the kind of person I can’t win against no matter what I do. He reminds of a certain other guy in that sense.

As I’m silently seething, he loops the band of the satchel around his finger, twirling it around and around with an infuriating smirk on his face. “And here I thought the stereotype that humans were mannerless beasts was an exaggeration.”

Mannerless? Oh, I’ll show you manners, alright—!

Not giving me time to test out my choke skill on him, he turns his back to me, facing the gathered crew members. “Is everyone on board with teaching our new friend Kitty some manners?” A few excited whoops ring out, feeding Coda’s theatrics. “Great! Now, can someone tell me what a well-mannered goblin would say to someone who just gave them a selfless gift?” A few hands shoot up and he lets his eyes glide over them, eventually pointing out a single one. “Yes, Al?”

“You’d say ‘thank you,’ Cap’n Coda!” the goblin named Al practically shouts.

But a few hands are still up, so Coda points to one of them and says, “Anything else you might say, Cal?”

Cal’s hand falls down and he quickly shoots a sly look at Al before turning back to Coda. “If you don’t like the person giving you a gift, you can refuse the gift and call them a mean name!” He looks back at Al and shows a toothy grin. “Such as Alchino!”

Al leaps to his feet, eyes burning, and grabs Cal by the scruff of his shirt. “The hell are you trying to say, gallbladder!?”

In return, Cal merely shrugs. “I don’t see why you’re getting so mad about it. Or is this about how I didn’t want your old moldy rations? Gee, Al-shit-o, you shouldn’t make the lesson all about yourself!”

I can practically see the moment whatever was holding back Al snaps and his eyes go RED.

Coda must’ve seen it too, as he quickly approaches them. “Alright, that’s enough, you two.” With one hand on Cal’s chest and his claw-hand against Al’s shoulder, Coda lets the silence linger for just a moment before speaking again, his voice soft and sharp in equal measure, saying, “You wouldn’t want our new friend to think this is how friends treat each other, now would you?”

A flash of remorse passes over Al’s face and he deflates, ears drooping down. “...Yes, Cap’n Coda.” Turning back to Cal, he gives the smaller goblin a stinker of a glare before lowering him back onto the deck.

Cal, in response, does as any younger sibling would and is just about to double down when a goblin next to him smacks him over the head and whisper-shouts, “Don’t be an idiot, Cal.”

As Cal grumbles something and Coda thanks Al, a couple of the other goblins snicker, a few throwing out jokes. However, once Coda takes his place at the head again, slapping his one hand against his thigh, the group falls quiet again. “Great teaching, everyone! Now,” here he turns to me, eyes glittering, “would you like to show the class what you’ve learnt?”

I look back at him, turn away to look at the gathered, expectant goblins, and then down at my toes. But I can’t show myself as cowardly. Not here. So I turn back to him, affixing my gaze to his. The little coin purse jingles in my hands. “Thank you.”

His grin is practically radiant. “You’re welcome, Kitty!” He turns to the gathered goblins. “Isn’t he, friends?”

“”“HE IS!””” the crew exclaims as one. Almost, at least.

“And what do we tell new members of the Evil Claw Pirates?”

I blink. Huh? “Hang on a moment—”

All in unison, all ignoring my pleas: “””ONCE A CLAW ALWAYS SCARRED!”””

“And with that,” Coda says warmly, turning to me, “I welcome you to our little crew.”

“But I’m not—” Gazes. So many gazes, all on me. Looking. Seeing. Expecting one answer and one alone. I clutch the little purse in my hand. “...Thanks.”

With the joining ceremony already done and over with, Coda took me around to greet everyone properly. Their full names are all as stupid and insane as Malecoda’s, so I was beyond happy to hear that everyone had their own nicknames to make things easier. All but one, at least. Most of them introduced themselves politely enough, though a few were restrained and suspicious. None more so than Barbariccia, who not only refused to let me use his nickname, but wouldn’t even shake my hand. Then again, with a nickname as dumb as ‘Bar,’ it’s not like I wanted to use it anyway.

I wanted to tell Coda about how I wasn’t interested in actually joining their crew, but it was impossible to get a word in while being strung along. I resolved myself to tell him later, hopefully in private.

Among those I met, Cal, Farello and Nazzo were the most curious about me, asking me how I ended up in the jaws of a steam eel, to which my response elicited as much confusion as entertainment.

“What, you just… appeared here? Like, out of thin air?” Cal asks, his back against the railing.

“That shouldn’t be possible. Goblins, not to even mention tallthings, can’t just appear out of nowhere. It’s against the laws of reality,” Farallo explains analytically, the barrel he’s sitting on creaking with every movement.

“Um, Farello, you probably shouldn’t call him a tallthing, I’ve heard humans really don’t like it…” Nazzo mumbles from his position on the floor.

“What, you’re telling me that ‘tallthing’ is as bad as calling a red ‘bloodskin’?”

“Honestly, it might be worse.”

And here, as Farello geared up to explain why he wasn’t anti-human, I felt the need to poke my head in. “What even is a tallthing?”

They turn to me. Farallo seems a bit shocked that I’d even ask, shifting atop the barrel he’s sitting on before explaining. “My mom used to tell me wolf stories, and this was just one of them. I think it was something like, if you leave the window open at night, then a tallthing will creep inside and eat you, and if it happens to find your skin cozy enough, then…” He pauses for dramatic effect, his thin lips twisting up. “—It’ll wear your skin and replace you!”

…Really now? As I listen closely, he goes on to explain that tallthings are tall, bone-pale creatures with long, knotty manes of pure white and sharp claws to skin you better.

Watching Cal and Nazzo shudder gleefully at the horrors of tallthings, I feel weirdly melancholic.

At least, until a warm hand falls on my back and I look up from where I sit to find Coda smiling gently. “Shapeshifting by wearing someone’s skin? What a useful ability!” Did he just wink at me? Yeah, he totally just winked at me.

Cal, Nazzo and Farallo share a look.

“Yeah, it would be pretty cool,” Farallo soon admits.

Cal and Nazzo nod approvingly, Cal soon adding his own thoughts. “Would be pretty cool to kidnap like some judge’s kid, wear their skin and live a life of luxury and easy choices. What do judges even do? Decide who’s guilty or not? Anyone with a brain can do that!”

Nazzo leans back where he sits. “Sure, yeah, but wouldn’t wearing a skin be kinda gross? It’s bound to start going bad eventually.”

Nodding, my arms crossed, I can do nothing but agree. “Yeah, after a few days, it starts to get pretty slimy, but then after a week or two it dries out enough to act more like a leather suit than actual skin. The real issue is when the joints start to dry up and moving begins to rip the suit. But if you just slit a few lines along the limbs, head and midsection, then—”

…Ah. They’re looking at me oddly. It seems I may have said a bit too mu—

“And that actually works?” Farallo asks, eyes shining. “Is it still usable after that?”

“Well, that’s…” I glance away, down at the floor. “It depends on the size of the skin, but most skins usually last around a month or two. But it really differs depending on how much you use it, and for what.” I can feel myself sweating a little. “Generally speaking, strenuous activity should be avoided, as well as broad movements…”

They’re looking at me with such big, curious eyes. They want to hear more. They want me to explain. To hear what I have to say.

And I give it to them.

I tell them about my adventures with Simel, when I wore skins fairly often; about what happened when someone saw through it; about the trial and how it went. And through it all, they listened with perfect interest, only interrupting to ask me to elaborate.

It almost felt unreal, and it only ended because we were called to our stations.

I, of course, don’t have a station. Nevertheless, Farallo dragged me together with him and Nazzo over to manning the sail. I helped them as well as I could, even though there was no reason for me to be there. Soon, the issue that had forced us to our stations was resolved, and we returned to relaxation.

And I forgot all about telling Coda how I wasn’t interested in joining the crew.