“What do you mean ‘we’? I only brought you here so you wouldn’t croak when I leave. I don’t want any part of your heroic delusions,” Amihan dropped her grip on Dumog’s forearm.

“I thought we were friends now,” his shoulders slumped.

“We just met! I’m just making sure you won't die and haunt me when you become a lonely ghost.”

“Still, we have to help the old man first. Surely helping the elderly is a common act in all universes.”

They looked towards where the old man was supposed to be, only the puddle was there. Amihan took a step back when she felt a presence in between them, below their waists. The bald man inspected the diaper that Dumog wore. His face was a few inches away from his crotch.

Not knowing how to respond in this situation, he thought it would be appropriate to give the confused elderly a friendly smile. Dumog did it so hard that he had his eyes shut and strained his neck, veins, and ligaments popping on the sides. The bald man and Amihan stared at him, both confused.

“Hello, good sir! My name is Dumog,” it came through closed teeth, something he practiced in the mirror before.

“Uh, hi. I must say you have quite the unique fashion sense, I like it. But,” he stood up, towering above both of them. He looked at Amihan. “Is he always this creepy?” Dumog stopped smiling.

“Yeah, but not as much as you. What the hell were you down there for?” Amihan had a hand on her knife.

“Well your physique and his fashion, piqued my interest,” he circled her, observing up and down. “You are such a specimen, I can tell even under your clothes,” he stretched a leathery hand out for a handshake. “My name is Jacked, your grip strength must be incredible!”

“No.”

“May I touch your forearms?”

“Touch me and I’ll cut your hand off,” she stepped back.

“Thank you, I like your dress, very gray,” Dumog managed to deliver the reply he was thinking of.

“It’s a robe!” Jacked exclaimed!

“Tch, you’re a damn wizard. That’s why you’re so weird,” Amihan clicked her tongue.

Dumog’s eyes lit up. All his past worries gone in an instant. He dropped down to his knees in front of the wizard.

“Please teach me magic, master,” he pleaded.

“Wait hold on Dumog. Why don’t you think this through first? I haven’t told you everything that the magic-users are capable of,” Amihan tried to convince him before he regretted it.

“Well my last disciple did leave me a few months ago,” the bald man stroked his long beard. His ego stroked as well from Dumog’s praise.

“See! There has to be a reason why they left!” She tried her best.

“I’ll do anything for the chance to use magic!” He had the eyes of a madman.

They were in the middle of a busy street. Despite the scene they were creating, no one wanted to interact with them. A little boy pointed and laughed at Dumog.

“She is right, you know. These things that need commitment need to be thought through. Especially dedicating your whole life to magic. It’s a very taxing thing. You have to sacrifice your old life. Relationships with your friends and family would be gone. And all the dangerous things you have to do for the sake of knowledge,” he stopped stroking his beard and crouched down to his level. “You didn’t even know my name until a few minutes ago,” Jacked got an idea of Dumog’s stupidity and its potential. He grinned. “Let’s start over. My name is Jacked,” he grabbed Dumog by the arm and helped him stand up.

“I don’t have any family or friends,” without an ounce of subtlety, he side-eyed Amihan. She kept quiet.

“How about this? I’ll give you a small test while we gather materials for a client of mine. Then I’d consider it depending on your performance.”

“Deal!” He agreed with no hesitation. Without an idea of the contents of this test. Dumog turned to Amihan. “Thank you for saving my life and bringing me here. I wouldn’t have this opportunity if it wasn’t for you. You can continue on your journey and I’ll start mine,” he waved.

“Wait, she isn’t coming? Shame she had a nice body, great forearms, and sculpted delts,” enumerated Jacked while she was still there.

“You’re going to regret dealing with magic. Nothing good comes out of it,” she spat at the ground and walked away.

“What’s her problem? People who don’t like magic are pretty rare,” Jacked commented.

Her hulking pack bobbed up and down every step she took. Jacked stared at her in silence with his knuckles under his chin, Dumog just thought he was being a creepy old man. Before he could finish his thoughts, Dumog brought him out of the trance by making a kid cry. He felt like someone dropped a problematic pet onto him.

“Quick, follow me before we lose daylight. I’ll explain things as we walk,” Jacked led the way.

They walked to the opposite side of where Dumog entered from. Jacked was walking too fast for Dumog to properly take in the view of the town. Along the way he bumped into several people, they didn’t bother getting mad at him when they saw what he was wearing. The gate was the same as the first one he saw. He wondered how they were able to cut the logs so high up.

What he saw next bothered his soul. A machine made of a mix of wood, metal, and gems, towered over them. It had a small box with a seat inside, it could fit one person. In front of the seat were several levers, sticks, buttons, and pedals. All those controls were for the main feature of the machine. A giant claw, one designed to dig up the ground, scooping up dirt and stone.

There was no denying it. The machine was an Excavator, they even painted yellow like the one Dumog used when he worked in construction two years ago. That was the time when they fired him for using it wrong. He destroyed a lot of materials and ended up hurting someone. Then, he spent two months reading and learning about the machine in the hopes that he could get his job back. Of course, it didn’t work and he wasted two months doing that instead of studying for his classes. Dumog considered those months the darkest period of his life.

“A beauty isn’t it?” Jacked interrupted his thoughts. “I was neighbors with the wizard who designed that,” he smiled proudly. “I remember playing games with him when we were kids. Now he’s the youngest Grand Wizard in the academy, at only 29!” He chuckled, genuinely proud of his friend’s achievements.

“Huh?” Something about the statement bothered Dumog. “Yeah it’s impressive,” he couldn’t tell what it was.

They walked out of town, back into the forest for Dumog. It looked the same as the other side of town. He asked where they were going and what they were gathering. But Jacked said that he’ll know when they get there.

Instead Jacked chose to explain the responsibilities of a wizard, to the academy and the nation of Metham. It was things like, how they were supposed to do research or use their magic for jobs, which depended on the wizard’s specialty. When asked which one of those he was, he would reply with “Oh I do a little bit of everything, a variety wizard.” He had his own sub-school in the academy, which technically makes him an Archmage despite not having any students.

After explaining the responsibilities Dumog had as his master’s disciple, all he understood from it was that he was a personal assistant. Jacked listed all sorts of things that seemed in line with what Dumog imagined. But Jacked slipped in domestic chores in between them.

As they got farther away from town and deeper into the wilderness, the surroundings became rockier. Dumog started to pant as they climbed the incline. Jacked was just fine on the other hand. Shame built up inside of him as the old man outpaced him on the hike.

“Didn’t take you that long to catch up to us,” Jacked stopped and turned. He smiled at the person behind them.

“Don’t get it twisted, baldy. I’m just here to make sure no dumbass becomes a wizard’s victim today,” it was Amihan.

“Welcome back,” Dumog said in between breaths, hands on his knees.

“Breathe in through your nose, then expel out your mouth. Mouth-breather,” Jacked scolded him.

The three of them continued the hike up the mountain. Amihan lent her hiking staff to Dumog temporarily. Despite being in pain, he enjoyed the hike. He thought back to his previous life, he wondered if he had worked for anything this hard before. It felt bittersweet for him knowing he could have tried harder much earlier. Though, he was enjoying the company of these two as well.

Crouched behind bushes and trees, they stopped in front of a cave. It was on the side of a mountain, near its base. A putrid stench came from it, which wafted towards them. The smell reminded Dumog of a mix between a pig sty and the shit under a chicken coop. He pinched his nose closed which caused him to breathe in through his mouth, the flavor hitting his taste buds.

“What ingredient do you need from here?” His voice came out nasally.

“Shush, we’re in front of a Green Goblin cave,” Jacked whisper-shouted.

“You could’ve told us that before bringing us here,” Amihan sighed.

“If I said that then he wouldn’t have agreed so quickly,” he retorted.

“That’s just plain manipulation,” she was pissed. “I told you dealing with magic-users brings you no good,” she said to Dumog.

“Don’t listen to her man. She just doesn’t understand. Adaptability and quick decision-making during unexpected events are crucial skills that a wizard needs,” Jacked pulled it out of his ass.

Dumog thought about it and nodded along, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“It’s nearly sunset. They’re nocturnal creatures, they’ll start waking up soon,” she warned.

“Which is why we need to start the plan now!” Jacked pulled a stuffed bra out of his right sleeve.

His 'magic trick' stunned Amihan and Dumog. Jacked looked at them as if they were supposed to understand the plan at the sight of the bra. He nudged it towards Dumog, gesturing for him to take it. The fake breasts had significant weight to them, he looked towards Jacked waiting for more instructions.

“Don’t be daft! Wear them. Keep that up and you’re not passing the test,” from his other sleeve he pulled out a wig and a bottle of perfume.

“Why do I have to wear all of this?” It took Dumog this long to doubt the choices that led him to this point.

“You walk up to the front of the cave. There should be a goblin keeping watch. Then, you seduce him and make him follow you into the clearing past the tree line over there,” he pointed. “I would be waiting nearby to finish the job. Sounds easy right?”

Explaining it like that, Dumog figured he could do it. Amihan kept quiet behind them, massaging her temples.

He wasn’t wearing anything besides the Kobold diaper he stole. But putting the bra and the wig on made him feel exposed despite it covering his skin more. The perfume didn’t smell nice at all, it smelt like several brands of insecticide to him. Jacked explained that it was like catnip but for goblins.

“Remember we need a male Green Goblin adult,” Jacked reminded him.

Dumog wondered how he could differentiate between the two when he hadn't seen one yet. He walked towards the cave’s mouth, it was pitch-black a few feet inside it. The setting sun wasn’t helping at all either.

It didn’t take long for a Goblin to stumble out of the cave. Bright green skin, with dark green spots scattered on its body, like freckles. And the top of their head reached Dumog’s shoulders. They wore a ragged mix of leather and cloth armor, more clothing than Dumog ever had since coming to this world. The Goblin yawned at him.

Earlier, he wondered how he could identify if it was a male or female. He got confirmation when he saw movement below their waist. The excited Goblin dropped his spear and charged towards Dumog like a rabid animal, tongue out and all.

It was a simple job in his mind. He could even say it was smooth up to that point. Dumog didn’t account for the Goblin sprinting after him, he thought it would slowly follow him.

They ran to the treeline and into the forest. Jumping over bushes and overgrown roots reminded him of high school Track and Field. He never won a single race back then, and he wasn’t winning this one either.

Right as they entered the clearing, the Green Goblin tacked him to the ground by the waist. Face down on the ground, Dumog tried to crawl away from him. The Goblin overpowered and mounted him from behind.

Jacked was still nowhere to be seen, he was sure he was in the right location. Dumog screamed, but he realized it wasn’t the time to rely on someone. The Goblin had a hand on the back of his neck and he could hear him fumbling with his belt. He pushed off the ground. Adrenaline flowed through him at the thought of what was to come next.

All he managed to do was turn himself, now facing the sky. The Goblin was still on top, with no sentience in his eyes. Was it his nature or the perfume that made him this way? He punched Dumog’s face, drawing blood from his nose. Blocking wasn’t effective, which forced him to go after the Goblin’s neck.

With both hands, he cuts off the Goblin’s breathing. In response, he started wailing on Dumog’s face harder. While this happened, Dumog could feel pressure on his stomach, the Goblin was enjoying it.

That was when Jacked finally arrived and knocked him out with one swipe at the back of his head. The Goblin fell on top of Dumog, unconscious. He scurried away from him.

“What took you so long!?” He was in tears, his face swelling up.

“A wizard is never late. I came at the perfect time, just before he did,” Jacked gestured a thumb at the Goblin. He crouched down and removed the Goblin’s pants. “Oh, what a pair! I could make ten doses with these,” he brought out a pair of scissors from his sleeves.

“Those were the ingredients you were after!?” Dumog jumped at the sight, queasy from the sound of snipping. “Why?”

“Listen, bro, for the sake of knowledge and magic we wizards need to be prepared to do everything,” Jacked did the procedure clean and quick. Something only years of experience could do.

“It almost got me!”

“The keyword is 'almost'. The recipe needed them to be close to climax before harvesting.”

He crashed down on the ground, hands on his head. Amihan was to the side, not wanting any part of it. She shrugged at Dumog as if saying “I told you.”

“Okay, I’m done here. Look how benevolent I am, the Goblin’s going to live,” he wiped his hands on the Goblin’s clothes.

“What are you making anyway, and who’s your client? Seemed like a big house they had,” Dumog’s face was swollen to the point where he couldn’t keep his left eye open. He scratched around the area where his bite wound from earlier was.

“It’s for the mayor,” Jacked shook the bottle, making the ingredient swish around in mystery liquid.

“Heh, at least my first mission was related to curing a noble,” he tried to grasp for anything positive that came out of this.

The sun had set, and moonlight flooded the forest. Nighttime in this world was darker than what he was used to, there weren’t city lights or cars to cause light pollution. As much as it freaked him out, he still enjoyed being in nature like this. Down the mountain was easier and less taxing on him physically.

All of a sudden, he lost control of all bodily function and started rolling down the mountain. Amihan, who was in front, caught him with ease. He lost consciousness for the last time that day.

She checked his pulse on his neck. Then touched her forehead. “I think he has a fever,”

Jacked jogged to her. “Why would that happen?”

“He got bit by a Kobold a few hours before you two met.”

“That shouldn’t happen, no one’s ever gotten sick from a Kobold bite before.”

“Uh, he’s from a small remote village that had no contact with the outside world,” she lied.

“He sure as hell didn’t come from the same place as you,”

“What do you mean?” She readied her knife.

Jacked tucked his hands inside his sleeves and gave her a shit-eating grin, a grin Dumog would be jealous to have. “I know what you are.”