From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem-Chapter 20: The pulsing green monster!

She walked slowly to the mattress. Her heart pounding hard. Sitting down near his leg, she caught a full, close-up view of the so-called "problem."

And instantly regretted it.

'H-how... how can something like that be so big?'

And attached to a freakin goblin of all things?! A short-stack lunatic with the self-control of a wild raccoon?

She swallowed hard. Her cheeks were already burning, but now her ears were turning red too.

Raedon hadn't even noticed her yet—still groaning, still muttering, still pumping like his life depended on it.

Or did he?

"R-Raedon..."

She called out, her voice unsure.

Raedon paused, breathing heavily. He looked at her like a man who'd just been told the sky was falling. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched his chest, a quiet groan escaping his lips.

"Madame... Raedon is dying. Goodbye..."

He muttered weakly, like someone trying to accept their fate with dignity—but failing.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're not dying. It's probably just... some kind of reaction. A side effect. Calm down!"

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The truth was, Alice had no idea what was happening. Whatever she'd expected when she agreed to help him, this definitely wasn't it.

She knew about injuries—broken bones, bleeding, even poison—but this? This wasn't in any of the books.

"Look. Dong pulsing. Dong expload. Kaboom."

Raedon mumbled with an oddly serious tone, pointing down at himself like the problem would explain itself.

Alice glanced down for a second, then quickly looked away.

Yes, there was definitely a... response happening. It pulsed faintly, like it had a heartbeat of its own.

She swallowed.

"...Just keep doing what you were doing," she said, trying to sound confident.

"No, madame. Dong go up... me go down. You no knowledge. Raedon go bye-bye."

He sniffled once, quietly. His face was pale, his breathing still uneven. Whatever this was, it had shaken him deeply.

Alice closed her eyes for a moment, exhaled, then nodded.

"Will miss you, bootiful madame... You like goddess to Raedon. Will miss you... sniffle sniffle..."

The man was putting on a full-blown tragic performance—tears, trembling lips, the whole melodramatic package.

Honestly, if there was an Oscar for horny, half-dead goblins, Raedon was already polishing his acceptance speech.

And damn it, it was working.

Alice's guilt was twisting in her chest like a snake in heat, and the way he kept calling her bootiful? It sent a little shiver up her spine and down places that hadn't been visited in a very long time.

"You come... my dream..." he murmured, breathless, voice barely more than a whisper. "Bootiful... bootiful..."

That voice was so raw, so genuinely enchanted, it hit her like a forbidden verse from a love song no one was allowed to sing anymore.

'Dream...? I was in his dream?'

Alice's cheeks heated as the implications hit her like a slap from a silk glove. Her husband hadn't made her feel this kind of dangerous in years.

Raedon, meanwhile, looked like he was about to ascend—or combust.

His eyes were closed, his tongue lolled out like a satisfied dog, and his hands had retreated from the battlefield that was his crotch. His whole body went still, a tragic statue of erotic defeat.

Alice became horrified.

"Oh my god! Raedon?! Raedon, wake up!"

She leaned over him in a panic, slapping his face—not too hard, but enough to make him twitch if he was still kicking.

Nothing.

Unbeknownst to her, his toes did give a subtle wiggle at the slaps—like a bad actor forgetting he's supposed to be unconscious.

She immediately activated her healing magic, the warm light flowing from her fingers like a divine balm—only for it to fizzle pointlessly. Her mana drained fast, but nothing changed.

Nothing to heal. No wounds. Just a man who had apparently passed out from a mix of divine nectar and emotional overload.

Alice's heart thudded against her chest like it was trying to escape the mess she'd just created.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! I killed him. I actually killed him."

She gasped.

"What do I do?! What do I do?!"

She was ready to run for help, maybe write a fake suicide note, or stage a tragic lightning accident—when something tapped her elbow.

Tap. Tap.

She froze. Slowly, she looked down.

It was his dong.

The only part of Raedon's body still enthusiastically alive and kicking.

It was throbbing like a cursed artifact with a mind of its own, gently tapping her arm as if whispering, "Fear not, madame. I hold the answer."

Alice blinked.

The thing pulsed again, like it was nodding.

"All the blood... it must've rushed straight down there. His poor brain's running on fumes while this damn thing's hogging all the circulation! I—I did this. I broke him. Damn it, I'm responsible. I have to fix this."

Her voice trembled as she reached toward the twitching culprit. Her fingers hovered, then finally made contact—grazing the pulsing, heat-soaked shaft of Raedon's pride.

His toes curled.

The green monster twitched, like it was saying: Yes. Yes, that's the answer.

Alice swallowed hard.

"Okay... okay, I started this. I'm going to finish it."

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