From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem
Chapter 67: No Touch Rae’s Women!!

Chapter 67: No Touch Rae’s Women!!

A little earlier...

Rae opened the flap of Melissa’s tent, scratching his stomach with one hand and yawning like a lazy cat.

He looked like he just came out of heaven.

And honestly? He kinda did.

The past few nights had been bliss.

Pure, uninterrupted sleep. No drama. No moaning women. No seductive traps.

Just him, curled up in Melissa’s warm embrace like a literal baby. His head buried in her motherly, divine pillows.

Her arms wrapped around his back like a heated blanket from the gods.

No funny business. Just comfort. Just soft, healing sleep.

Melissa, despite being a hero, had a body softer than clouds and a scent that made Rae feel like a swaddled child.

It was so soothing he didn’t even bother overthinking it.

He just let himself melt.

But the moment Rae stepped out of Melissa’s tent, his eyes locked onto two figures in the distance.

And just like that—bam—his entire mood flipped.

His half-lidded eyes narrowed into sharp slits.

The dopey yawn froze in his throat. All sleep vanished.

And then came the fire.

Fwoosh.

It wasn’t the sun that heated him up. It was the sight of that bastard Adrian talking to his Alice.

Memories flooded his head like bad soup.

The old Rae had been a little mouse around Adrian.

Flinching, trembling, hiding behind trees like a schoolboy caught peeking at adult books.

Every time there was a team hunt, Rae would keep his distance and watch—not the battlefield, but Adrian.

Always Adrian.

Because that guy never stopped lurking around Alice like a damn cartoon wolf.

Sleazy smile. That stupid confident stance. And the way he talked to Alice when nobody was around?

Oh no.

Old Rae was scared.

But this Rae?

This Rae cracked his knuckles.

Pop. Pop. POP.

"Ain’t no way, brother. Ain’t. No. Way."

Thunder cracked overhead—not from the sky, but from inside his goddamn soul.

There might be a real storm coming later, sure, but right now?

The storm had already arrived—and it wore Rae’s face.

He stomped forward, towards the morning fire where Maya had set up the pots for breakfast.

Two buckets of water were hanging, already bubbling like they knew something spicy was about to happen.

Maya was nowhere to be seen.

Rae didn’t care. His lips curled into a dangerous grin—a big ’U’ of pure unfiltered violence.

And in the distance, it was the perfect timing.

There was Adrian, spreading his arms wide like some discount romantic hero, walking backward after no doubt vomiting some sleazy monologue straight out of a third-rate soap opera.

Rae’s smile widened.

’Good morning, bitch.’

It was about to go down.

Rae snatched two towels from the stool near the fire, twirled them around his palms like a pro wrestler prepping for a dramatic entrance.

And then, without a hint of hesitation, grabbed the handles of the two steaming hot buckets like they were feathers.

No flinch. No grunt. Just pure spite-fueled goblin strength.

He moved without a sound, a little green shadow gliding over the dirt like a ninja fueled by caffeine and vengeance.

Alice spotted him from the corner of her eye, her heart thudding like a war drum inside her chest.

But on her face? Nothing. Not even a twitch of a smile.

She wasn’t about to give an hint to Adrian that she was very fond of Rae.

Nop. Not a chance.

Nobody knows what this maniac will do to Rae, if that happens.

She focused her eyes back on Adrian—pure, distilled hatred.

Meanwhile, Adrian was still talking. Still walking backward with his arms stretched out like he thought he was Jesus reincarnated in a K-drama.

’Yeah... come to mama, bitch.’

Rae was already grinning like a maniac.

He crouched with slow, dramatic precision and placed one bucket of boiling water right on the ground.

Then padded over and set the second bucket about a meter away—perfectly spaced.

Like a trap. Like the path of divine judgment had been set.

The buckets steamed. The sun caught the metal just right. This was art.

Adrian, of course, didn’t notice jack shit.

"I’ll be waiting for you... Like I always do... come to my tent, okay?"

He cooed, his back still to Rae, completely unaware of the goblin behind him setting up his villain arc.

Alice didn’t blink.

’Just one more step.’

Rae thought, his smile now full Joker. His ears twitched, sensing Adrian’s heel lifting off the ground, shifting forward.

One.

More.

Step.

And then...

SPLASH!

Adrian’s foot landed squarely in the first bucket. A beat passed.

"YAAARRRGHHHHH! HOT!! HOTTT!!"

He launched his leg out like it had touched molten lava .

Hopping on one foot like a flamingo in crisis, he clutched his scalded leg like it owed him rent.

"Ouch! Ouch! OUUU—"

SLIP!

The gods were watching. Karma was drunk, and she was laughing.

He slipped backward, arms flailing like a windmill in a storm—and went face-first into the second bucket.

KER-PLONK!

"AUUUUGHHHHH!!"

RUMBLE~ THRUMMM~

Right on cue, lightning slashed across the sky and thunder crashing down to muffle his screams.

The dark clouds above rolled and grumbled like they were judging him too.

Adrian hit the ground, rolling in agony, steam rising from his hair like a poorly baked dumpling.

Alice lost it.

She cackled, hard—like an old crone possessed by petty vengeance.

She doubled over, tears forming in her eyes, her hand slapping her thigh like she was watching divine justice unfold in 4K.

"That bitch got what he deserved!"

Meanwhile, Rae darted over with the energy of a goblin gremlin who’d just pulled off the perfect prank and was now fleeing the scene of the crime.

He dived behind Alice, peeked out from behind her waist like a kid hiding from consequences.

"Good one, Rae!!"

Alice grinned, ruffling his hair like he was her adorable little chaos buddy.

"Hehehe~"

Rae beamed back.

Then, casually—like it was nothing—he reached around and grabbed a full handful of her ass, like he was just holding onto where he can reach with his tiny hand.

Alice froze.

Her eyes widened.

A deep warmth surged down her body as her thighs instinctively pressed together.

Rae tilted his head, still holding on like he was adjusting a backpack strap.

"Bill he be ogay?"

He asked sweetly, like he wasn’t just lighting her libido on fire with that innocent little hand.

.

.

.

Is he? Is Rae finally going to yeet his cherry...?

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