From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem-Chapter 43: You no like? Me go

If he just blatantly grabbed her inner thigh—right then, right there—sure, she might let out a moan.

One. Just one. And that would be it. A single hit, no combo, no critical strike. A waste of an opportunity.

No, Rae knew better than to blow his load of massage power all at once.

He had to improvise. Strategize. Tease her like a sinful monk with a holy mission and a dirty mind.

So he changed his game.

What he came up with was something devilish.

Two slow, deliberate sets of teasing massages over her toned, travel-worn legs.

Smooth strokes. Occasional detours. Just enough pressure to draw out soft gasps from her throat, but never enough to break her defenses.

He flirted with her nerves. Danced around her inner thighs like a demon tempting a nun.

Sometimes, his hands dipped inward—barely skimming the warm skin of her inner thigh.

Featherlight. Wicked. Enough to make her twitch, shudder, gasp.

But not moan. Not yet.

It was the third set that sealed it. His hands slipped in again—this time, deeper. Bolder.

Until they were resting right near her most forbidden zone.

He pressed, firm and slow, right into the sensitive tendons of her inner thighs.

And just like that—

"Ahhn~"

The moan spilled out of her lips like melted sugar. A crack in the dam. A falter in her breath.

Then another. Louder this time.

And a third, drawn out and trembling, as his fingers kneaded into her thigh like they were unlocking ancient runes of pleasure.

Quest: Complete.

But with success came a new problem.

Rae sat back, panting, sweat dripping from his brow like he’d just survived a sexy boss battle.

He glanced at his pouch and cursed under his breath.

Only four health potions left. Just four. And the longer he touched her, the faster they burned.

There was no way he could afford to waste them on long teasing massages again.

Not at this rate.

And besides—just legs? That wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

Her body was adapting.

What made her moan before wouldn’t work again.

He’d have to push deeper. Go bolder.

Smarter.

’I’ll find another way.’

He thought, smirking as he flexed his fingers like a tiny gremlin masseuse-warrior preparing for round two.

’First, let’s see the loot.’

A familiar ding echoed in his head.

[Special Quest Completed!]

[Massage of Death! - Level 1]

[Reward Acquired: 20% Resistance to Life Drain!]

[Effect: You can now touch her body for longer periods without rapidly draining health!]

A slow smile spread across his face, curling with mischief and pride.

His eyes locked onto her divine, quivering cheeks.

They trembled softly—partly from the chill in the air, but mostly from the residual echoes of his hands and the electric effect they’d left on her skin.

’All that... just from a little touch? Damn.’

He mused, letting out a quiet chuckle.

’If I’d poured even half this much dedication into anything back in my old life, I could’ve been a damn millionaire. Tsk, tsk...’

He shook his head in faux regret, the corners of his mouth twitching.

A part of him did feel the sting of wasted time—too many nights spent in the shadows, peeking, sneaking, being a professional degenerate with no career plan.

But hey, life wasn’t about regrets. It was about moments. Pleasure. Experience. And boy, was he having an experience.

Just then, like an overly enthusiastic waiter delivering the next course, the system chimed again.

[Special Quest!]

[Massage of Death! - Level 2]

[Objective: Massage her upper body and make her moan seven times.]

[Reward: +40% Resistance to Life Drain | New Skill Unlocked: Superior Hands of Eros (Level 1)]

His eyes lit up like a kid spotting extra dessert.

’Oho! Forty percent this time? Not bad, not bad at all... By this rate, just a few more sessions and I’ll be tanking Death Drain like a damn boss. All I have to do is... massage her four more times?’

He licked his lips, his expression somewhere between focused scholar and pervy alchemist discovering the secrets of divine anatomy.

’After that, I alone will be able to conquer this woman. He he he.’

He eyed the second reward with a twitch of his brow.

Superior Hands of Eros.

He didn’t need a tooltip or detailed breakdown to get the idea.

The name alone screamed "Certified Panty Dropper." His fingers flexed instinctively, already tingling with newfound power.

’System’s seriously spoiling me lately. What’s the catch, huh?’

He shrugged.

Didn’t matter. He’d take it.

With hands like these, he felt like he could charm the clothes off a statue.

Just imagine what he could do to Alice’s— he cut that thought short with a mental slap. No. Focus.

Alice wasn’t here.

Lyra was.

And her divine brown cheeks weren’t going to massage themselves. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

A low chuckle rumbled out of his throat, full of smugness and menace—like a cartoon villain right before he presses the big red button labeled "DO NOT PRESS."

From her spot on the bed, Lyra tilted her head back lazily, raising a single brow in question. Her expression said it all:

’Is it over already? Seriously? My legs were just getting to the good part...’

And she wasn’t wrong.

For the first time in years—decades, even—after gods know how many dungeon dives, boss battles, and political headaches, she was actually relaxing.

Not just sitting still or soaking in a tub—truly relaxing.

Her limbs felt light. Her mind, soft and pliable.

All thanks to those tiny, twitchy gremlin hands that had no right being this good.

The truth was different though.

Rae didn’t know squat about proper massage techniques.

Everything he knew came from secondhand peeping during awkward spa visits back on Earth.

A few too many late-night YouTube rabbit holes.

Maybe a documentary he half-watched because the thumbnail showed a girl in a towel.

But to Lyra, this was heaven.

Or close enough.

"Didh ya enjoy it, madame?"

Before Lyra could even muster the courage to awkwardly ask if he was done, he beat her to the punch.

She blinked, eyes locking onto his goofy, expectant grin.

"As a matter of fact, yes... I did like it," she admitted slowly, voice barely above a whisper, "but... uh... like everyone else... it was... short."

Her cheeks flushed, fighting hard to mask how much she actually wanted more.

She’d been bracing for the usual—him getting frustrated, insisting he’d do better next time, maybe even going in for round two without her asking.

But no. This was Rae. The sly little bastard already knew every trick in the book, and then some.

"Oh..."

He dropped his head in a pathetic little whimper, face casting down like a puppy who just got told he ate the furniture.

"Is dhat shoo... too bad? Rae no good for anydhing. Rae going now."

He shook his head, defeated, and began to stand as if retreating from the battlefield.