The goblins did not come that night. Kazuto wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. He spent the night in a shallow scrape in the dirt, using his satchel as a pillow, the mysterious package wedged securely beside him. The golden prison-box glowed faintly in the dark, a lonely nightlight.
Sleep was a series of short, tense naps. Every rustle of wind, every skitter of a pebble, jerked him awake. He wasn't just responsible for himself anymore. He had thirty-two dwarves depending on a wall he could barely understand.
« NOTICE: HOST BIOLOGICAL FUNCTIONS INDICATE PROLONGED STRESS. RECOMMEND REST. »
No kidding, he thought back at the voice, which was becoming a weirdly constant companion. Got a skill for that?
« NEGATIVE. SUB-SKILL [INFINITE PATIENCE MODE] AFFECTS TIME PERCEPTION, NOT PHYSICAL RECOVERY. »
Figures.
Dawn came, grey and cold. The dwarves emerged from the tunnels they'd started, stretching stiff limbs. The sound of picks on stone began again almost immediately. They were building homes with the desperate speed of people who needed walls around them.
Kazuto's first task was water. The bitter well was a last resort. He gathered Doom and two others.
"We need to find a better source. A spring, a clean runoff. You know how to look for water underground, right?"
Doom nodded. "Aye. But it'll mean leaving the basin. Scouts will be vulnerable."
"That's why I'm going with you," Kazuto said. He picked up the golden prison-box. He couldn't leave it unattended. "We'll take the main entrance. Let's go."
At the invisible barrier wall, he created an opening. The four of them stepped out into the narrow gully. The morning light felt exposed and dangerous. Every shadow seemed to move.
They had gone less than a hundred yards from the entrance when Kazuto heard it. A low, chittering sound from the rocks above. He stopped, holding up a hand.
A pebble clattered down the slope, landing near his feet.
He looked up. On a ledge, the goblin scout from yesterday crouched. It wasn't holding a weapon. It waved a thin, green arm urgently, pointing further down the gully, then made a drinking motion from a cupped hand.
"It's… showing us something," Kazuto said.
"Doom, what do you think?" one of the other dwarves whispered, hand tightening on his pick.
Doom eyed the goblin with deep suspicion. "Could be a trap. Lure us into an ambush."
The goblin shook its head fiercely, as if it understood. It jumped down from the ledge, landing lightly. It took a few hesitant steps, then turned and looked back at them, waiting.
"It's a risk," Kazuto said. "But we need water." He hefted the prison-box. "If it's a trap, I've got a containment strategy."
They followed the goblin. It led them down a side path, a crack in the rock so narrow they had to turn sideways. It opened into a small, hidden canyon, no bigger than a living room. And there, trickling from a mossy seam in the cliff, was a thin stream of clear water. It collected in a small, clean pool before disappearing into the ground.
The goblin stood by the pool, patting the water proudly.
Doom rushed forward, cupping his hands and drinking. He spat the first mouthful out, then tasted again. His eyes widened. "It's sweet! Clean!"
The dwarves filled their waterskins with joyous speed. Kazuto knelt, drinking from his hands. It was the best water he'd ever tasted.
He looked at the goblin. It was watching them, its head tilted. "Thank you," Kazuto said, sincerely.
The goblin just nodded, then scurried back up the path.
"He led us to water," Doom admitted, grudgingly. "But one act doesn't make them allies."
"No," Kazuto agreed. "But it's a first delivery. A show of good faith. We need to reciprocate."
Back at the basin, the water was a morale miracle. The dwarves drank their fill, their spirits visibly lifting. Kazuto gathered everyone by the central well.
"We have a clean water source, thanks to our new neighbors. That solves one problem. Food is next. We can't eat rock. Doom, can we trade? Do we have anything?"
Doom gestured to the pile of crude mining tools and the single cart. "We have labor. And skill. But nothing to trade with."
Kazuto looked at the rocky ground. He had an idea. A ridiculous, simple idea. "What if we made something? Something only we can make, because of my… ability."
He walked over to the pile of stones meant for the wall. He picked up a football-sized rock. He focused. He imagined a barrier not as a wall, but as a mold. A perfect, seamless, indestructible mold in the shape of a simple brick.
« APPLYING [DIVINE OMNI BARRIER] IN FORMATION MODE. »
A transparent, brick-shaped shell materialized around the rock. He willed the shell to contract, pressing inward from all sides with gentle, irresistible force.
Crunch.
The ordinary, jagged rock compressed. Dust and tiny fragments filtered out through invisible seams as the barrier tightened, forging the stone into a smooth, perfectly geometric brick. It was dense, heavy, and had edges sharper than any chisel could make.
Kazuto dismissed the barrier. The brick dropped into his hand. It was cool and flawless.
Doom took it, his calloused fingers tracing the perfect edges. His eyes were huge. "This… this is masterwork masonry. Without tools. Without a forge. You can make building blocks from rubble."
"Not just blocks," Kazuto said, ideas flowing now. "Containers. Troughs. Foundations." He looked at the grim landscape. "We make quality products from worthless materials. That's our trade good."
A young dwarf, the one who'd been under the cart during the wyvern attack, spoke up. "But who will trade with us? The nearest human village is weeks away, and they fear the Seats too."
Kazuto pointed a thumb over his shoulder, toward the gully. "We start local. We trade perfect stone bricks for whatever food they can forage. We establish a local economy."
Doom looked horrified. "Trade with goblins?"
"Think of them as… independent contractors," Kazuto said, using the term his old company loved. "They provide a service—foraging, scouting—we provide payment—shelter, security, quality goods."
The concept was so alien it took time to sink in. But the dwarves were practical people. They understood value. A perfect brick was worth more than a hungry stomach.
That afternoon, Kazuto, Doom, and two others carried ten of the perfect bricks to the gully entrance. They stacked them neatly just outside the barrier wall. Kazuto then took a piece of charcoal from a dead thorn bush and drew on a flat rock. A simple pictogram: a brick, then an arrow pointing to a bundle of roots or fruit.
He left the bricks and the sign and retreated inside, sealing the wall.
They waited.
An hour later, the goblin scout appeared. It examined the bricks, tapping them, trying to chip one with a sharp rock (it failed). It studied the pictogram, its forehead wrinkling in intense thought. It took one brick, hefted it, and ran off.
By dusk, a delegation arrived. The goblin leader—still moving stiffly from its tumble—and three others. They placed a heap of dirty, tuber-like roots and a few handfuls of pale, sour-looking berries in front of the bricks. They took two more bricks and vanished.
Doom inspected the haul. "Wild tubers. Not much nutrition, but edible. Berries are tart but safe." He looked at the remaining seven perfect bricks. "They underpaid by half."
"It's the first transaction," Kazuto said, gathering the food. "The price will stabilize. We just established a currency."
That night, for the first time, the people of Delivery ate a shared meal: boiled tubers and berries, flavored with nothing but hope. It wasn't much, but it was food they hadn't had in the morning.
As Kazuto sat by the small cooking fire, chewing the bland tuber, he watched the dwarves. They were talking, not just working. A young dwarf was trying to explain the pictogram trade to an older one. Someone laughed, a short, surprised sound in the dark.
It wasn't a kingdom. It wasn't even a village. It was a start-up. A desperate, poorly funded, wildly risky start-up in the worst location imaginable.
He looked at the golden cube in the corner. The overseer was watching the firelight, its face unreadable.
He looked at the package by his side.
« NOTICE: SETTLEMENT PARAMETERS MET: SHELTER, WATER, SUSTENANCE, BASIC SECURITY, EMERGING ECONOMY. »
« DESIGNATION UPDATED: 'DELIVERY' NOW RECOGNIZED AS A HABITATION ZONE. »
The voice made it sound so official. Like he'd just filed a business license.
A goblin face, faintly illuminated by the distant fire, peeked over the rim of the basin for a second, then disappeared. Not a threat. A curious neighbor.
Kazuto finished his tuber. The road ahead was impossible. But for tonight, the delivery had been made. The package—this fragile, absurd new life—was still intact.
He lay back, using his satchel as a pillow, and for the first time, slept a little more soundly. The headache of tomorrow was a problem for tomorrow's Kazuto.