Earth's SSS Pornstar to SSS Combat God in Another World-Chapter 16: Not All Monsters Behaved Like Beasts

Joji heard the forest change behind them. A bird call cut off. Footfall that was not theirs.

He stopped and set Walter down on a mossy log, gentle as he could manage.

Walter blinked at him, confused, cheeks red from the march.

Alaric kept his bow low but ready, eyes cutting through ferns and shadow.

Joji listened again. Only wind in needles. Only the creek muttering. Still, the plan felt too clean.

"What costumes do you think are best for us to survive?" Joji asked, gaze sliding to Alaric.

"Alligator-skin armor might buy us some time. Ain’t gonna keep folks from asking questions."

"If we do a real investigation, sooner or later we get caught with just the one getup."

Alaric’s mouth tightened.

Walter shifted his hands like he wanted to help but did not know where to place them.

"Speak," Joji said, his eyes on Walter.

Walter cleared his throat.

"If I may inquire. Is it possible to know what mission you are on?"

Alaric’s eyes flicked to Joji, warning him. Joji weighed the options fast.

Tell nothing and keep Walter blind, then carry a blind man into a town full of questions.

Tell something and create a loose end that might strangle them later.

Walter had no one to cling to. If he betrayed them, he died with them. That was not trust. That was necessity.

"We need to investigate the increased presence of beasts in Lacrosse," Joji said.

Walter nodded once, like a craftsman receiving measurements. His mind moved faster than his legs.

"If you need to show yourselves and ask around, you need skins that do not scream order and knightliness," he said.

Walter rubbed his chin, then pointed at the campfire visible in the distance.

"Hill ogres. Their skin is close to a man’s. You can pass at a glance if the seams are good."

Walter’s finger lifted again, this time toward Joji’s head. Moonlight broke through the branches and flashed off Joji’s scalp.

"Those men will remember you are bald. Best we make a body suit for you with hair."

Alaric made a small choking sound that might have been laughter.

Walter turned to him, hesitated, then pushed through anyway.

"Erm. You lady knight need hide your beauty. No more skin exposure. Old man style. Wrinkles. Sag."

Joji laughed, then coughed once, hard.

"He needs to look like an old man, right?"

"Right, sir," Walter said, earnest as a priest. "One hill ogre can fit the three of us."

Hill ogres were the most common. They ate anything that moved, much like men. Hot-tempered and violent, they carried large wooden clubs.

They followed the first weak light ahead, not moonlight, something steadier, low to the ground.

The glow led them to a small camp tucked between roots and fallen branches. Not a human camp.

The fire was too low, the stones too crude, the pot too big for the thin arms tending it.

Dog kobolds stood around it, upright little beasts, three to four feet tall, bandaged with leaves and strips of bark.

Their faces sagged with hunger and failure. One sighed like an old man, and the weight of it pressed on Joji.

The pot simmered. The smell was only earthy water and bitter greens. No spice. No meat. Just survival pretending to be supper.

Alaric watched them like he watched wolves, measuring bite and numbers. Walter stared with wide eyes and kept quiet.

Joji lifted both hands and stepped closer.

"Easy. We are not here to steal your soup."

A few kobolds bared small teeth anyway.

An elder pug faced kobold waddled forward, trying to look dignified with a shaking knee.

"Hooman. What are you up to?"

Joji had streamed and played a lot of MMORPGs and dialogue-based games during his pauses in the adult industry, so he stuck with that logic.

He looked at their pot and shook his head, slow, disappointed, like a judge of bad cooking.

The elder followed his gaze, then sniffed and bristled in embarrassment.

The young kobolds did not understand human speech yet, but they knew the expression on Joji’s face was mockery.

"I am hunting hill ogre," Joji said. "I stumbled here. That is all."

The elder blinked hard.

"Hooman. You know ogres are big."

The elder kobold stretched his arms as wide as they could go, trying to make the size real.

Joji could have argued with words. Words were cheap and often useless. He let his aura rise instead.

Green light crawled along his forearms. It was not warmth. It was a cold pressure behind the skin, like wind trapped in bone.

Joji swung once and cast Emerald Blade Wind Art. The air snapped. Two trees twelve inches thick sheared clean and fell with a wet crack.

The green edge died on a third trunk, leaving it half pierced and bleeding sap.

The elder’s ears flattened. Fear did the rest.

Joji lowered himself until he was close to the elder’s face. He kept his voice quiet, gentle.

"Assist us," he said. "You keep the meat. You come with me."

The elder looked back at his camp, at thin bodies and bitter eyes, at a grandson hugging his own ribs like they might fall out.

Alaric shifted his stance, bow half raised, the offer carrying an edge.

Joji saw it and waved a hand, all generous posture.

"Lower the bow," Joji said, eyeing the elder kobold. "These kobolds are with us. We got an arrangement, work for meat, right?"

The elder swallowed and nodded once. His expression hardened, not eager to be cannon fodder.

"Hooman. We assist from the side. We do not sacrifice our lives for this."

Alaric drew a breath, bow still charged with aura.

"Lower your bow. Have you not seen the sincerity of our kobold friend?" Joji said, stepping in and blocking the line with his body.

Walter stayed seated behind them, hands folded, trying to be small as he watched it play out.

"Fine," Alaric said. "Still, I don’t trust them."

Joji sat on a trunk made into a bench. Alaric kept his distance, bow loose, eyes cutting the dark.

The dog kobolds did not look at Joji or Alaric much now. Their eyes slid to Walter again and again.

Too long. Too hungry. Small throats worked. Joji heard the gulps, soft and shameful.

Walter tried to sit still. He did not manage it. His gaze flicked to Alaric, pleading without a sound. ’Please protect me.’

Joji leaned toward the elder and kept his voice low, like he was asking about weather and not survival.

"I know you track well," he said. "Where are the monster camps around here?"

The elder’s ears twitched. He did not answer at once. His eyes went to Walter again, then away, then back.

Hunger argued with caution right on his face.

"North is marsh," he said. "Frog men and leeches. They hide under water. They bite legs." He pointed with a clawed finger that shook. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"East is stones. Bone birds nest there. They steal shiny things. West is old trees. Big spiders. Web lines. Do not touch."

"And hill ogres," Joji asked. "Where?"

"South ridge," he said. "Clubs. They come down when hungry."