CHAPTER 24: GOAT PERADISE

"I’ll show you the true God, I’ll show you the true god who created the worlds and all the creatures with just one word, who wipes their ass with water, not leaves. Follow me to salvation."

"Phew, that was insane," Lin released a long breath, a smirk spreading across his face as if he had achieved something unthinkable. "I could have been a good preacher. Alas, I’m dead now. Well, nothing to worry about—if I get out of here, I’ll find a church that worships a goat god and preach there. All hail the goat god."

However, little did Lin know, his words hit like a stone thrown into a pond. Goats jerked awake, some cursing, others shouting "Blasphemer!" and "Fool!" at him. It was like watching a flock of true believers confronted with their first real doubt—their ears pinned back, eyes wide, and voices rising in denial.

But not everyone joined the chorus. One goat, Toro, stepped forward. He was the opposite of Bram—calm, dangerous, not much muscle but a presence that made the air feel heavier.

Toro’s eyes narrowed. "What you said—can you prove it?"

Lin met his gaze. "And if I do?"

"We will follow you."

Lin weighed his options. He needed support; if things went bad, Toro and Bram could be shields, or at least distractions. Besides, he needs to complete the royal interest mission. To complete it, he needs to save one or more goats.

Lin raised his voice again, letting it echo. "I don’t need to explain anything—you can see for yourself. Look around, look closely and tell me what you see. Those hanging on the wall were once your comrades, your brothers. You fought side by side, shared food, even competed over chicks. But now they’re dead. The ones you thought were chosen are dead, just like you’ll be in a few hours."

Toro’s gaze swept the pen, lingering on every grim detail—the bloodstains, the scattered bones, the skeleton wedged between loose boards. His face barely changed, but Lin caught the flicker of realization. Most goats, still groggy from whatever they’d been dosed with, hadn’t bothered to look. They just curled up, clinging to the illusion of safety.

Paradise, right?

Lin almost laughed. If not now, when would they ever wake up?

Bram’s suspicion cut through the haze. "How did you get here?" he demanded, eyes narrowed, his expression was serious, as if knowing how he came here was more important.

"I have the blessing of god–Just kidding. When I noticed Bojo went missing, I started searching for him and then learned he was captured by the gods. After that, I walked straight past the front of the god and ended up here."

"How do we leave?" asked Toro with a serious expression on his face as if he believed every word of Lin.

Lin stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Leave that to me."

Bram scoffed, eyes half-lidded, all indifference and doubt. "Do you seriously believe this kid? He’s the outsider."

Before Lin could answer, footsteps echoed down the corridor, not too hurried nor too slow.. Instantly, the room went silent. Then, as if on cue, some goats started chanting, their voices trembling with hope or maybe fear.

"Oh god, mighty god, bless us. Oh god, mighty god, bless us."

Lin’s ears twitched. A cult? In a goat farm? He watched as the human, just a villager, nothing special, unlocked the cell.

The human didn’t even blink at the worship. He opened the gate, and a goat practically skipped out, eyes shining, tail wagging. No need to drag him; he was a true believer, grinning like he’d won the lottery.

"I’ve been chosen again! I’ll reach higher heaven! All of you fools, look at this—I have been chosen!" The goat’s voice rang with pride, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Lin stared at the pitbull-faced goat, a chill crawling up his spine. He muttered, "May god bless your soul."

He’s not going to heaven. He’s going to the chopping block. And he’s happy about it. That’s... something else.

The villager led the goat to a table, binding its legs with practiced hands. The goat’s laughter only grew louder. "Look! God is binding me for a safe journey!" The others chanted louder, eager to be next, eyes shining with fanatic devotion.

Definitely a cult, Lin thought, jaw tight. He glanced at Toro and Bram, catching their eyes. The cell gate was open. The time was now.

The villager, distracted, reached for a sharp, gleaming tool—a cleaver, no question about its purpose. The goat on the table giggled, oblivious to his fate.

Lin didn’t hesitate. He flicked his tail, the signal clear. "Now," he hissed. "Headbutt. Hard."

The air was thick with chanting and fear. Before the human could react, Bram lunged forward and smashed his horns into the so-called "god," sending the human sprawling across the floor.

For a second, the room fell into silence before the Goats bleated in terror, voices rising in a panic.

"God is hurt! Have mercy!" Some wailed, others cowered, while a few stared at the spreading blood with wide, bewildered eyes. "How can a god bleed?"

Lin, Toro, Bojo, and Bram bolted out of the room. There was no time to think.

Lin took the lead, hugged the shadows and darkness of the night, and wove past villagers who barely registered the blur of fur before the goats disappeared down a narrow alley.

He had warned the others again and again: Don’t fall behind. If you did, you were finished. Tonight, at least, everyone kept pace.

They ran on, lungs burning, hearts pounding. Lin’s stomach clenched when a pack of dogs appeared ahead, but he didn’t slow; adrenaline drowned the fear. Bojo, however, skidded to a halt.

"Angels! They’ve come to punish us!" he cried, half-kneeling.

Bram barked sharply, "Move, idiot! If you want to die, die alone. Don’t block the rest of us."

Bojo snapped out of it and sprinted. Luckily, the dogs ignored them — they weren’t in the mood to chase a few frantic goats.

They reached the marked spot left by Lin and froze, seeing the scene before them. Squatting right on top of the mark was a human, round-cheeked, shorts around his ankles, completely focused on his business. Moonlight illuminated the absurd scene, and time seemed to pause.