"Screech!"
A sharp, twisted howl echoed between the hills.
The pus-green skin surface was covered with sores, and the hunchbacked, emaciated body looked like some kind of dried-up corpse dead for days, emitting a nearly palpable air of decay and ugliness.
Muddy eyes filled with desire, sticky drool dripping from yellow rotten teeth, sharpened branches and crude sticks, crude skirts made from small animal fur and leaves...
This was a hunting party composed of exactly six adult goblins.
Not too many, not too few.
As the most bottom-tier existence among the so-called "Hunters" in the forest, if it's just a single goblin, it might not even catch up with a rabbit in a bush, lacking the energy and intelligence to make traps or weapons.
But as the number of goblins gradually rises and exceeds a certain threshold.
