From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem
Chapter 58: Who the hell is this Creator guy?!

Chapter 58: Who the hell is this Creator guy?!

[The Creator has a message for you...]

His legs froze.

He skidded to a stop so hard his toes scraped moss off a rock.

His heart thudded.

His eyes widened.

"The... Creator?"

’What the hell is that supposed to mean?!’

Was it God? Was it System Daddy? Was it the fucking Game Dev?

He stood dumbfounded, not noticing the dead beast corpses littered around him.

Giant wolves with their heads snapped.

Bears with their guts spilled open like dropped soup bowls.

The air smelled like blood and iron and something older.

But he was busy staring at the floating message like it was a DM from a hot girl.

’Why would the creator message me?’

’Did he see me motorboat Melissa?! Is this about taxes??!’

WHISTLING.

A slow, cheerful tune drifted through the trees.

Not hurried. Not afraid.

Just whistling.

Rae’s instincts screamed.

He dove behind the thick trunk of a tree and slapped a hand over his mouth, his other hand on his tiny goblin crotch.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

His heart pounded against his ribs like it was trying to escape.

’No, no, no...’

That wasn’t just whistling.

That was the kind of whistling someone does while hunting.

And judging by the eviscerated monster buffet scattered around the clearing...

Someone—or something—was getting closer.

...

Rae was getting anxious now—anxious in the "sweaty balls and cardiac arrest" kind of way.

This was way too much for his little green heart to handle.

On one hand, the freaking Creator had just sent him a message.

The Creator.

From the title alone, Rae could tell this wasn’t some side character.

Whoever this was, they had serious authority over his system—maybe even made the damn thing.

And now, when he was being handed lust points for cuddling tits, the Creator decides to check in?

’What the hell does this guy want from me?!’

On the other hand—there was a crazy bastard out there whistling.

In this forest.

In this blood-soaked, corpse-filled clearing that looked like something out of a monster-slaying horror story.

Now that Rae finally took a good look around, he realized how fucked he was.

’Oh god. This—this is where those dumbass heroes got their asses clapped...’

’Fuck me sideways!’

He instinctively drew a shaky cross on his chest.

He wasn’t religious—not even a little—but at times like this?

Even imaginary prayers felt helpful.

And then—

[Greater good needs greater sacrifices...]

"What the FUCK?!"

Rae flinched, teeth bared, glaring up at the system message.

’Don’t give me this cryptic shit, bro!!’

Then—crunch.

The sound of leaves and dry dirt shifting under boots.

The whistle was getting closer now, casual, like it belonged in a fucking park stroll—not in a murder field.

Rae pressed himself against the thick tree trunk, twisting his body, making himself as small as a goblin possibly could.

[To conquer, one must conquer themselves.]

’This stupid-ass Creator is trying to get me killed.’

Rae narrowed his eyes at the glowing message.

He got the message loud and clear.

This bastard wanted him to challenge himself.

To grow. To face the big boss, the Goblin King.

’Yeah, fuck that noise.’

This wasn’t a healthy relationship at all.

But if Rae was honest—he was the only one getting anything out of it.

The system gave him lust points, women, power. And this "Creator" was probably the one behind it all.

’Still...what the hell does this guy even want from me?’

He didn’t know, and honestly, he hoped to never find out.

He just wanted to live out his kinky dream surrounded by soft thighs, big tits, and giggling girls in silk nightgowns.

The footsteps shifted—moving away.

Rae let out a sigh of relief...

[Hear this and hear this only... Be the man every woman wants.]

His eyes widened a little.

’Oh...?’

Now the Creator was speaking Rae’s language.

[Be the name that makes women drop their panties, wet their pussies, and scream in ovulation.]

Rae blinked. Hard.

’Well... I mean... I do want it to be like that...’

He nodded slowly, still crouched behind the tree.

[Then this Creator shall help you with it...]

’How—?’

Rae barely had the thought before a blinding light exploded from the system message.

It hit him like a flashbang, searing his vision white.

He winced, stumbling backward with his hands over his eyes.

Crunch.

His foot landed square on a dried leaf.

Thwip!

A spear came flying—fast, deadly.

It slammed into the tree trunk right beside him with a solid thunk, the sharp tip punching clean through the bark and bursting out the other side, just a hair’s breadth from his head.

He froze.

Then slowly—very slowly—Rae opened his eyes as the blinding light faded.

And what he saw made his jaw drop.

The spear that had whizzed past his ear? It was now next to his knee.

’Wait. What the actual fuck.’

He looked down.

He was taller.

Like... a lot taller.

Not goblin-sized anymore.

Not some tiny green pervert scrambling around in bushes.

No, this was different.

He could see through the woods like someone had upgraded his eyeballs to long-range tactical binoculars.

Like someone had taken his eyes and mounted it on a seven feet pole.

Then he looked at his hands.

Still green, but no longer puny.

Thick. Ripped. Veins bulged across his forearms like dark rivers of power, black-red and pulsing.

’Holy shit. My arms look like my dong. Thick. Veiny. Alive.’

He could feel it in his bones—this wasn’t normal.

’What the fuck!’

Rae frantically pulled up his status, fingers trembling.

Just as he feared, Mask of Phantasm was now on a timer.

’Shit. So he really can change my shit whenever he wants.’

It all clicked then.

This "Creator"... this mysterious bastard behind the system...

He wasn’t just handing out horny side quests and magic boners for fun.

No, he was in control.

The system, the powers, Rae’s goddamn existence.

It could all be yanked, reshaped, rewired.

And Rae was the puppet.

[Just read this out loud.]

’...’

Rae narrowed his eyes at the message.

So now this bastard wanted to control what came out of his mouth too?

He was getting pissed.

This wasn’t a partnership anymore, it was turning into a leash.

But before he could say or do anything, a voice cut through the forest like a snake slithering over broken glass.

"Who goes there? Another little lamb from the kitty heroes!"

A snicker followed, then the heavy footsteps of someone circling the tree.

"Don’t try to run now. I have you in my—!"

The moment the stranger turned the corner and laid eyes on Rae... he froze mid-sentence.

The snicker died in his throat. His jaw dropped. Then—

Thud!

The goblin dropped to one knee. Head bowed.

"M-My liege!!"

Rae blinked.

’What the fuck now?’

The guy kneeling before him... wasn’t normal.

Rae could feel it—raw strength radiating from him, the air practically vibrating with it.

This wasn’t one of those raggedy green idiots he’d fooled before.

No, this was the one.

The goblin the heroes were crying about.

The one who wiped the floor with them like yesterday’s garbage.

And Rae could tell why.

The dude was not leveling up. He was evolving. Like him.

Not like other goblins, who will stay the same size but just get more powerful.

No.

This was unnatural. This was the same kind of transformation Rae just experienced.

’Is this the side effect of darkness...?’

His eyes narrowed.

But just as Rae was starting to think he could bluff his way out of this, the goblin on the ground suddenly snapped his head up and glared at him.

A sharp, hateful glare. Fangs bared. Aura flaring.

"No way."

"No fucking way my liege is here now. You’re an imposter!"

His eyes blazed violet, and in his hand, a twisted, dark glow formed.

"You... you’re with the heroes. When did the humans become this deceptive?"

He stood tall now.

That power—that darkness—was crushing.

Rae’s head spun, a wave of nausea washing over him like bile in a blender.

"I demand you answer, filth!"

"Who the fuck are you to tarnish my liege’s name?!"

"Courting death?!"

He roared, voice shaking the goddamn air. The forest quivered. Somewhere, a crow probably exploded.

Rae was flabbergasted. No—he was fucked.

’This... this isn’t a fight I can win. He wiped the floor with SIX goddamn heroes. Those guys are like... level forties or fifties minimum!’

He gulped. Sweat poured. Knees almost gave in. He was seconds away from screaming "PLOT ARMOR SAVE ME," when—

Ding.

A new system message appeared.

[...]

’...oh no.’

His eyes skimmed it once.

Then again.

Then again slower, because what the actual fuck was this line?

[You only got one ball, Grind. Shut it before I smash your other one too...]

’...’

’Wait... WHAT?!’

Rae almost choked on his own spit.

’I’m supposed to say that?!’

He stared at the message in stunned silence.

This wasn’t some mystical chant or clever code or ancient goblin password.

This was a threat.

A raw, low-blow threat that sounded exactly like something Rae would say... if he was blackout drunk and had zero fucks left.

’Is the system TRYING to get me killed?!’

The goblin—Grind apparently—took a step forward, power humming off his skin, ready to gut Rae like a pig on a spit.

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