Victor watched fourteen pairs of yellow eyes process what they were seeing. A human—weak, unarmed, standing over a dead hero—and instead of running, instead of screaming, instead of attacking...
He was talking.
The pack leader's primitive mind struggled with the contradiction. Prey ran. Prey begged.
Prey did not negotiate. This creature violated every category the goblin had ever learned.
Victor used the confusion to gather data.
Performance Review: Goblin Pack.
[PERFORMANCE REVIEW - Goblin Pack]
Units: 14
Average Level: 3
Species: Goblin (Common)
Pack Structure: Dominance hierarchy, violence-based
Threat Assessment: LETHAL (in aggregate)
Notable: One unit significantly malnourished. Positioned as expendable.
Weakness Identified: Pack cohesion dependent on leader survival.
Recommendation: Target leader or identify alternative recruitment vector.
At the back of the pack, Victor spotted the alternative.
One goblin stood noticeably smaller than the rest—thin to the point of skeletal, with skin that had taken on a grayish tinge from malnutrition. The others had positioned themselves to shove him forward if things went wrong. He was the sacrifice. The bait. The one they would throw at danger while the rest escaped.
That one. He knows he's disposable. He understands his market value. He'll listen.
The pack leader snarled something in Goblin. Victor's ARMI interface translated automatically:
[ARMI - TRANSLATION]
"Shut-talk, weak-thing. We take. We kill. We eat. Normal order."
Victor addressed the leader directly, his voice carrying the calm authority of a thousand quarterly earnings calls.
"I have a proposal. This dungeonfloor's boss is dead—" he gestured at Marcus's corpse "—and someone needs to manage this territory. The position is open. I'm offering... employment."
The word meant nothing to the pack. But ARMI provided context:
[ARMI - TRANSLATION MATRIX ACTIVE]
"Employment" → "Food-giver position under contract"
"Territory" → "Safe sleeping place with resources"
"Manage" → "Control-decide-own"
The leader's eyes flickered to Marcus's golden armor. To the glowing sword. He understood "control-decide-own." He wanted that.
He also understood something simpler: this human had no weapon. No claws. No magic glow. The human was weak.
Why serve weak thing when you could kill weak thing and take shiny objects?
The leader barked a laugh—ugly, sharp—and charged.
Victor didn't move.
He had no weapon. No combat training. No chance in a physical confrontation.
But he had one asset the goblins hadn't accounted for.
He had something worth more than violence.
Victor grabbed a health potion from Marcus's backpack and threw it—not at the charging goblin as a weapon, but to him. An offering.
The leader caught it reflexively. His charge stuttered, stopped.
He stared at the vial in his clawed hand. The red liquid glowed faintly, warm against his palm.
This was worth more than a week of hunting. This was the kind of treasure that packs killed each other over.
And the human had just... given it away?
"That's your signing bonus," Victor said. "There are three more. You want them? Then we talk. Kill me, and you split one potion fourteen ways. Work for me, and I'll show you where to find more."
The mathematics were simple enough for even goblin minds. One potion divided by fourteen was almost nothing. Employment with a creature who handed out treasures was... interesting.
[ARMI]
Negotiation probability: 34%
Note: Economic incentives proving effective.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Victor pressed the advantage.
"I know dungeons. I know how to make them profitable. More loot. More food. Less dying. But I need workers." He let contempt enter his voice—calculated, precise. "You interested? Or should I find smarter goblins?"
The insult landed exactly as intended. Goblin pride was primitive but real. They bristled. The leader's grip tightened on the potion vial.
The pack wavered.
And then a small voice spoke from the back.
"Sniv will work."
Thirteen heads turned. The runt. The sacrifice. The one they'd planned to throw at danger. He had stepped forward—trembling, starving, but forward.
The leader snarled. This was betrayal. This was weakness. This was—
"Smart," Victor interrupted. He looked at the small goblin—Sniv, apparently—and activated Performance Review.
[PERFORMANCE REVIEW - Sniv]
Level: 1
Class: Goblin (Variant: Runt)
HP: 8/12 (Malnutrition penalty)
Status: 72 hours from starvation
Skills:
- Counting (Basic): Can track numbers up to 20
- Servility (Advanced): +50% compliance rate with authority figures
- Survival Instinct (Extreme): Will prioritize own survival over pack loyalty
Assessment: Low combat value. HIGH organizational potential.
Recommendation: Suitable for entry-level administrative position.
There it is. The one who counts. The one who calculates. The one who understands that loyalty to a dying pack is worse than service to a rising power.
"You're hired," Victor said to Sniv. "As of now, you work for me. That means no one in this pack touches you without my permission."
[ARMI - EMPLOYEE ACQUIRED]
New Hire: Sniv (Goblin)
Position: Entry-Level Resource Manager
Salary: Food rations (negotiable)
Contract Status: PROVISIONAL
Loyalty: UNSTABLE → CONDITIONAL
Victor turned to the pack leader.
"Your choice. Join, and I'll make this pack the wealthiest in the dungeon. Every goblin fed. Every goblin safe from heroes. Regular work schedules, performance bonuses, the whole package." He paused. "Refuse, and I leave with your former member. Good luck explaining that to your crew."
The implication was clear. A leader who lost members was weak. Questions would arise. Challenges would follow.
The pack leader couldn't afford to look weak.
After a long moment, he lowered his weapon. The others followed.
"Trial," the leader growled. "We try. Not work, we kill."
Victor nodded. "Standard probationary period. Acceptable."
He reached into the bag and pulled out three health potions, setting them on a flat stone with deliberate slow movements. "Distributed as per our agreement. Performance-based incentives will follow. The final one stays with management—for now."
The goblins stared at the glowing glass, their primitive hierarchy momentarily shattered by the sudden influx of wealth. For them, this wasn't just medicine; it was capital. Victor watched the shift in their eyes, calculating the exact amount of gratitude needed to prevent a knife in the back.
[ARMI - HOSTILE TAKEOVER: PARTIAL]
Entities Acquired: 14 (provisional)
Loyalty Status: UNSTABLE
Investment: 5 Health Potions (250 GP equivalent)
Projected Maintenance: 50 GP/day (food costs)
Note: High-risk acquisition. Recommend rapid loyalty integration.
The pack dispersed to explore the boss chamber, already arguing over who would claim the best sleeping spots. Victor watched them go—fourteen problems, fourteen opportunities, fourteen employees who would kill him the moment they sensed weakness.
But one remained.
Sniv lingered near Victor, his yellow eyes fixed on the human's face with an intensity that bordered on worship.
"Boss," Sniv said, the word awkward in his mouth. "Boss give Sniv... food?"
Victor looked at the small goblin. Pathetic and desperate, he was three days from starvation.
Also: the only creature in this dungeon who had chosen him freely. Not because of fear or calculation or pack dynamics. Because Victor had offered something no one else ever had.
A deal.
Victor pulled a ration from Marcus's pack—dried meat, hard bread—and held it out.
"Eat. Then we work. I need you functional."
Sniv took the food with trembling claws. For a moment, he just stared at it. No one had ever given him food without demanding he fight for it first. No one had ever called him functional.
He devoured the ration in seconds.
[ARMI]
Employee Loyalty Updated: Sniv
CONDITIONAL → STABLE
Note: Minimal investment, maximum return. Management Efficiency: TOP-TIER
As Sniv ate, the pack leader wandered back. He spoke casually, as if sharing trivial information:
"We not go deep floors. Big thing there. Eats goblins who go."
Victor's eyes narrowed. "What kind of thing?"
"Big. Horns. Angry. Stays in deep-room. We leave him, he leaves us."
[ARMI - QUERY RESPONSE]
Entity Detected: Floor 4 Guardian
Classification: Boss-Class (Minotaur Variant)
Estimated Level: 15-20
Threat Assessment: EXTREME
Current Status: Territorial, non-hostile if avoided
Recommendation: Delay engagement until force multiplication achieved.
Another middle manager. Victor filed the information away. Eventually, he'd have to deal with the minotaur too. But not today. Today was about consolidation.
He turned to Sniv.
"First assignment. I need a complete census of floors one through three. Every creature. Names if they have them. Capabilities if you can observe them. Territorial claims, food sources, existing conflicts." He paused. "Report back in four hours."
Sniv blinked. Someone had just given him a task. A real task. Not "go die so we can escape" or "check if the trap kills you." An actual job with expectations and a deadline.
His small chest swelled with something he'd never felt before.
Purpose.
"Sniv do this," he said, his voice firmer than it had ever been. "Sniv do good job. Boss see. Boss not regret."
He scurried off into the tunnels, clutching the memory of his first real meal like a treasure.
Victor watched him go.
Fourteen goblins. One actually loyal. Zero capital. A starving workforce and a boss monster lurking below.
But he had something he hadn't had an hour ago.
Human resources.
He had turned a death sentence into a recruitment drive. The overhead was high, and the loyalty was paper-thin, but it was a foundation. And in any restructuring, the first stage was always about securing the base.
Now he just needed to make them productive.
End of Chapter 2
[ARMI - SESSION SUMMARY]
Balance: 0 GP (5 Potions expended as investment)
Employees: 14 (13 provisional, 1 stable)
Assets: Travel Rations (depleting)
Note: High maintenance (3.5 GP/capita) justified by loyalty jumpstart.
Pending: Floor census, Minotaur assessment
Status: OPERATIONAL (Resource-constrained)