Fallen off the Cliff by My Lover After Becoming a Hero

"Ma ji la ku... Kan se duo de si."

I couldn't make sense of it.

The woman leading the way—the one the goblin had referred to as the Marquis of Cecilia—walked through the warehouse, her sharp gaze inspecting every corner. She moved among the cages and crates, holding a hand over her nose in clear discomfort. Her attendant followed closely, wearing a polite yet somewhat strained smile, speaking in a language that was entirely unfamiliar to me.

What kind of species are they? They look human… but they're definitely not.

Even from a distance, as they gradually approached my hiding spot, an inexplicable chill ran down my spine.

"Let me be clear: there's no unloading happening today."

"What?! Goblin, what kind of nonsense is this? The deal was to dock, unload, and leave immediately!"

Unlike the earlier foreign words, the exchange in the common tongue was easy to follow. The ship's captain, a towering sea siren, was clearly losing her temper. Meanwhile, the goblin remained unruffled, adjusting what looked like a monocle glinting on his right eye.

"We agreed to two weeks ago," the goblin said flatly. "But you delayed this shipment for half a month. Do you think our port operates out of charity?"

"I don't care!" the captain retorted angrily. "So now what? We just sit around for an entire day doing nothing?"

"I've already made arrangements with another site to take the cargo," the goblin said curtly. "Staying here for a single day won't kill you."

"Fine! But at least throw us a little something for our trouble. My crew's been busting their tails for two months—this isn't an unreasonable ask."

The captain rubbed her fingers together in a gesture universally understood: money.

"Can you try to be reasonable for once?" The goblin sighed heavily. "Fine. Come down with me later, and I'll sort it out."

"Knew I could count on you, Damian."

"Stop using my name only when it suits you," Damian snapped. "And for the love of everything decent, try not to cause a ruckus tonight. The innkeeper complains about you every single time."

"Yeah, yeah."

The captain's flippant reply made Damian sigh again as he turned his attention back to his clipboard. He scribbled notes while glancing around at the cargo piles. Probably a manifest, judging by the way he was cross-checking items.

It seemed like he was writing on paper supported by a wooden board. Watching him work, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disbelief. So much for the Church's claims of "primitive civilizations"—this world seemed anything but underdeveloped.

"Apologies for the interruption," another voice cut in smoothly. "While this is merely a visit, there is an item we'd like to take with us directly. Would that be possible?"

The speaker was the marquis's attendant. His rich crimson hair fell in soft waves, partially shadowing his sharp features. Even from my angle, it was hard to ignore how strikingly handsome he was.

"What… was it again?"

"Hey!"

The captain's oblivious response seemed to push Damian to the edge of his patience.

"Haha, no need to be so formal, Mr. Damian," the Marquis of Cecilia said with an effortless smile. "This isn't an official visit, after all. Overpoliteness would only make us feel awkward."

Her voice carrying a perfect balance of grace and authority. Despite being a woman, there was a deep, commanding quality to her tone. She stepped forward and continued:

"As I recall, it's a cylindrical toolbox crafted by the Giant tribe. Compact yet capable of holding an impressive variety of tools—a design I greatly admire."

"But… those are usually meant for servants or laborers. I wouldn't dare—"

Damian's voice trailed off uncertainly.

"The marquis doesn't concern herself with such trivialities," the attendant interjected smoothly. "However, considering the toolbox originates from the distant Fustar Continent, Giant-crafted goods are highly sought after. When we learned of an opportunity to acquire one here, we couldn't resist."

As the attendant explained, the marquis stood with her arms crossed, nodding in satisfaction. Her demeanor left no room for doubt—this was a woman who was accustomed to getting exactly what she wanted.