Celeste fell into deep thought.
She had to construct the simplest, most intuitive trading model imaginable.
A model so basic that even this tribe of goblins, whose mathematical prowess was likely stuck at the “counting on their toes” stage, could grasp it instantly.
This was to be an unmatched cross-civilizational exchange.
With a plan conceived, she stepped out from behind the tree, taking care to display no aggression.
The goblins’ petty squabble came to an abrupt halt.
Their bulbous eyes immediately locked onto the uninvited guest.
A wave of panic rippled through their ranks as they brandished a motley collection of primitive weapons—chipped stone axes, sharpened sticks, and crude clubs—aiming them at the “Big Guy” who had suddenly materialized.
Threatening screeches of “Ga-ga!” and “Woo-woo!” erupted from their throats.
Their bodies, however, told a different story.
They huddled together, a trembling mass of green skin trying its best to look fierce while being utterly terrified.
Celeste remained expressionless.
She slowly raised her empty left hand, palm facing forward—a universal gesture indicating she meant no harm.
Next, with her right hand, she picked up a single bee needle.
The stinger glinted with a cold, metallic luster under the dim forest light.
She deliberately slowed her movements, placing the bee needle on a flat stone before her with an almost ritualistic solemnity.
She set down the first one, pointed at the needle, and then pointed at herself.
She placed a second one and repeated the action.
She placed a third and did it again.
The goblins tilted their oversized heads, their greenish faces masks of pure confusion.
They began chattering amongst themselves.
“Ga?
Shiny?” “What Big Guy doing?” a goblin whispered, referring to Celeste.
“Arranging stones?” When the fifth bee needle was laid out in a neat, gleaming row upon the stone, Celeste decided her “pantomime lesson” was complete.
She cleared her throat and, in a voice she intended to be peaceful but came out as flat and emotionless, uttered a single word: “Trade.” She then pointed at their rickety wooden fortress and made a “bring it here” gesture with her hand.
Next, she pointed to the five bee needles on the ground.
Finally, she pointed a finger at herself.
The logic was clear, the intent explicit: I will use these shiny things to trade for the items in your castle.
The goblins fell silent for a moment, their tiny brains seemingly dedicating all available computing power—which couldn’t have exceeded a 5-bit processor—to decrypting this complex “body language encrypted communication.” A goblin holding a small wooden stick, who looked slightly older than the rest, mustered its courage and shuffled forward two steps.
Let’s call it “Stick-Stick.” Its gaze swept greedily over the gleaming bee needles on the ground before it craned its neck to stare up at Celeste.
This “Big Guy” was simply too tall; her smooth, powerful limbs stirred a fierce conflict in its mung-bean-sized eyes.
The temptation of the shiny things was immense.
But the appearance of this strange creature was truly difficult for it to accept.
It turned back to its companions and began a heated discussion in a flurry of “ga-woo-ji-li.” “Trade!
Shiny!
Pretty!” “No!
Big Guy too tall!
Ugly!” “Right!
Ugly!
And clumsy!
Waste of materials!” “Color is ugly too!
Not green at all!” The debate reached a stalemate.
Stick-Stick seemed to conclude that the problem lay with the offer.
‘There aren’t enough shiny things!’ it must have thought.
It spun back around to face Celeste, first extending a single, stubby finger and pointing it at her.
Then, it began to wildly open, close, and reopen its hands while making vague “woo-woo-ah-ah” sounds.
Finally, its short little arm pointed forcefully toward the castle.
In goblin-speak, this translated to: You (one person) give us many, many (countless) shiny things, and we will give you the things in the castle.
To Celeste, however, this spastic sequence of movements was indistinguishable from some bizarre, shamanistic rain-dancing ritual.
Celeste was speechless.
She had thought her own method of communication was abstract enough.
She never expected to meet the founding master of the abstract school of art out here in the wilderness.
She decided to upgrade her communication strategy.
She first pointed at the five bee needles on the ground, then made a huge circle with her arms in front of her chest, attempting to convey the concept of “many.” She then pointed at the castle again.
Stick-Stick the goblin stared at her “big circle” and froze for two seconds.
Suddenly, it seemed to have an epiphany.
It nodded vigorously, then triumphantly extended two fingers!
A surge of joy washed over Celeste.
It was working!
It understood!
The next second, she watched as Stick-Stick held up its two fingers, jumping up and down in front of her while pointing at the castle and screeching “ga-ga” with unbridled excitement.
The smile on Celeste’s face froze solid.
‘Two fingers?
What the hell does that mean?’ Refusing to give up, she gestured with that “big circle” again, emphasizing “many, many” with a heavier tone in her voice.
The way Stick-Stick looked at her changed.
Disgust practically overflowed from its mung-bean-sized eyes.
It lowered its fingers and, once again, scrutinized Celeste from head to toe with a gaze that could only be described as offensively picky.
It took in her tall, slender figure, her healthy wheat-colored skin, and finally, her face, which blended the charm of a mature woman with the lazy air of a salted fish.
At last, it shook its head with violent finality.
It abruptly raised its little wooden stick, pointing it straight at Celeste’s face.
A sense of aesthetic superiority, seemingly rooted deep within its racial genes, made it puff out its tiny chest.
It summoned all its strength and, in the tone of a judge delivering a final verdict, roared out the not-so-fluent common tongue, word by painstaking word: “Ugly!
Too ugly!” The fat goblin beside it immediately followed suit, pointing a trembling finger at Celeste’s long, straight legs and screaming, “Ga!
Legs so long!
Like stupid flightless bird!” The scrawny goblin proudly poked its own green skin for comparison.
“Woo!
Color is ugly!
Not green at all!” Another goblin gestured disgustedly at her silhouette.
“Clumsy!
Not petite or agile!
Ugly to death!” A deep resonance swept through the goblin ranks.
They had reached a supreme aesthetic consensus and began to jeer in unison: “Tall, clumsy, ugly-colored Big Guy!” “No trade!
We don’t trade with ugly monsters!
Ga-ga-ga!” They were in unanimous agreement: this “Big Guy,” from her height and build to her skin color, failed to meet the core aesthetic standards of the goblin race—”short, agile, and green.” She was, therefore, categorized as “hopelessly ugly,” and they flatly refused to trade with her.
Even if she brought out more shiny things, it wouldn’t work!
Celeste stood frozen.
She felt a rush of blood roar straight to the crown of her head, and she could almost hear the audible snap of her sanity.
In this life and the last, she had received all sorts of evaluations, but to be so comprehensively and decisively labeled “all-around ugly” by a group of goblins whose average height didn’t even reach her waist, who were as green as moldy potatoes, and whose aesthetic standards were bizarre to the point of being outrageous…
This was nothing short of cross-dimensional humiliation!
Some things, when you can’t bear them, you have no need to bear them!
“I…
am all-around ugly?” Celeste’s voice was terrifyingly low.
The pink staff in her hand emitted a faint creaking sound, strained by her white-knuckled grip.
This was a standard figure and skin tone that was healthy, sunny, and possessed both strength and beauty!
Hidden behind a nearby tree, Selene was completely dumbfounded.
She looked at her sister’s figure and appearance, which were definitely considered outstanding among humans, then listened to the goblins’ triple-combo insult of “tall, clumsy, ugly-colored.” She couldn’t hold it in any longer and let out a short, sharp gasp of laughter.
She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, her entire body trembling as she tried to suppress her giggles.
Stick-Stick the goblin remained blissfully unaware of the impending disaster.
It was still waving its little wooden stick, attempting to educate this “ugly” creature on the supreme aesthetics of the goblin race.
“Must be short!
Must be green!
Must—” Its words were frozen there forever.
Because Celeste moved.
There was no warning, no incantation.
The very ground beneath her feet seemed to shake.
“Aesthetic Correction Fist—Staff Edition—reporting for duty!” The pink staff tore through the air, carrying the thunderous wrath of an owner whose dignity had been thoroughly trampled.
It transformed into a streak of brilliant pink light.
Fast!
Accurate!
Ruthless!
It struck precisely on the foreheads of every single goblin that had just opened its mouth to mock her.
“Bang!” “Ga—crack!” “Thump!” “Woo—choke!” “Whack!” “Ji—thud!” The movements were as swift as the wind, the force as steady as a mountain, perfectly interpreting the true meaning of “the combination of strength and beauty”—as unilaterally determined by Celeste.
The world was instantly quiet.
All that remained were a few green-skinned runts twitching on the ground, their eyes rolling back in their heads.
Exaggerated bumps were already rising on their foreheads at a visible rate as they succumbed completely to darkness.
And on her bracelet, the points ticked upward.
Celeste leaned on her staff, her chest heaving with rage.
She poked the lead goblin, Stick-Stick, the one who had called her “ugly,” with the tip of her staff.
Her voice, laced with ice shards, burst through gritted teeth.
“Say it again?
Who’s ugly?” [Ding!
Due to being judged as “all-around ugly” by inferior beings with bizarre aesthetic standards, you flew into a rage and used absolute strength to perform a physical aesthetic correction.
This has created extreme cognitive dissonance and dramatic joy!
Elation Coins +233!
Host, your “Appearance Defense Battle (Physical)” was magnificent!
Aha is rolling on the floor laughing at this cross-species aesthetic conflict!] Celeste glared fiercely at the empty air, too furious to bother with the system that so clearly loved to watch the chaos unfold.
She looked at the unconscious goblins on the ground, then at their crooked, aesthetically bankrupt castle.
Her eyes were like chips of ice.
“Negotiations have broken down,” she announced, her voice carrying a chilling hint of murderous intent.
“Initiating the final plan.” “Zero-dollar shopping.” Selene leaped out from behind the tree.
Seeing her sister’s dark and stormy expression, she forced back another wave of laughter, raised her shield, and loudly echoed the sentiment.
“Let’s go, sis!
Charge!
Let these short-sighted, green-skinned potatoes witness what real ‘tall, big, and mighty’means!
Let’s’procure’ all their good stuff!” [Elysian’s Note: Having a good time with the story?
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