Colby slowly approached the Skate Goat.

  All had not been for naught. Skate Goat milk, here he comes.

  The Skate Goat let out a bleat of panic. It pushed off against the ground again and again, hoof desperately scraping as it tried to force the board forward. Dirt was kicked up in its frantic panic. And yet, despite all of that effort, the board barely travelled a couple pathetic inches.

  Colby bent down and wrapped his hands around the goat, fingers sinking into the soft white fur. Using all of his muscles—including some he didn’t even know existed—he lifted the Skate Goat off the skateboard.

  The animal must’ve weighed as much as him. Either that or he was pathetically weak.

  He could barely lift it a single inch off the skateboard—its constant squirming and bleating weren’t exactly helping either.

  His arms trembled. His back screamed.

  With a desperate twist of his body, he just barely managed to place the Skate Goat to the side. The moment he let go, his strength vanished. His muscles finally gave out. Arms drooping and legs buckling, as he fell to the floor.

  The Skate Goat dropped that half an inch onto the ground and instantly bolted to its skateboard.

  However, Thornelius immediately intercepted it. The Thornwolf planted himself atop the lopsided wooden skateboard. He leaned forward, brandishing his thorny fangs as he growled at the Skate Goat.

  The Skate Goat froze.

  Its legs trembled, eyes locked onto Thornelius’s maw, fixed on the gooey sap dripping to the ground below.

  Panting, Colby found the strength to turn his neck and look over at the trembling Skate Goat.

  “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you—unless I have no choice,” he wheezed. If you give me some of your milk, I’ll leave you alone.”

  The Skate Goat didn’t speak, not even a bleat. It continued to shiver in place like it was the latest dance craze, unable to tear its gaze away from the menace that was Thornelius.

  Colby sighed.

  Annoying language barrier, destroying all his hopes and dreams.

  Maybe next time he should capture a Monstrologist, one fluent in Skate Goat, who could translate his demands. Or even better—one willing to work in exchange for some cheese.

  Colby sighed again. He was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, but the Skate Goat left him little choice.

  Two small balls of mozzarella appeared in his palm. He slowly lifted it to the Skate Goat’s face, holding it there, ensuring that it clearly saw what he was doing. Then, with his other hand, he waved for Thornelius to get off the skateboard.

  The Thornwolf barked once in protest but ultimately obeyed. As he stepped off the board, his leafy little eyes continued to bore into the Skate Goat, a faint growl slipping out of his throat.

  Still trembling, the Skate Goat switched its attention to Colby. It followed his every move, watching as he bent down towards its skateboard and pressed the balls of cheese onto the wooden axle where the wooden wheels used to be. Using his fingers, he molded the balls of mozzarella, crudely shaping them into wheels.

  After making sure that the cheese had bonded with the wood, Colby lifted the skateboard and brought it to the Skate Goat’s face. He gave it a quick flick, and the cheese spun—albeit wobbly.

  The Skate Goat stopped trembling, watching the cheesy balls spin in place before slowly coming to a stop.

  Finally, Colby placed it back on the ground, pointed at it.

  The Skate Goat looked at him and bleated once, as if asking him for permission.

  Colby simply nodded—wondering if that was a yes, no, maybe, or complete nonsense in Skate Goat culture.

  Thankfully, the Skate Goat seemed to understand.

  It cautiously stepped forward, placing a hoof onto the skateboard.

  The moment it applied a tiny bit of pressure, the cheese was flattened, and the skateboard became lopsided once more.

  Thornelius growled.

  The Skate Goat jerked its hoof back and resumed its trembling session. Its wide, fear-filled eyes staring at the Thornwolf.

  “Relax, boy,” Colby said, petting his leafy fur. “I expected this to happen. I was just hoping it wouldn’t, so I wouldn’t have more work to do.”

  Thornelius stopped growling, though it still glared at the Skate Goat.

  The problem was that the cheese was too soft. As long as it was hard enough, it should be able to hold up the Skate Goat’s weight, at least until the cheese naturally decayed—by then, hopefully, the Skate Goat would’ve gotten it properly repaired.

  If he repaired the Skate Goat’s keyboard, it may give him milk in return. If the Skate Goat didn’t, then he’d have no choice but to enact his extortion plan.

  Mostly because he didn’t want goat extortion to be on his conscience.

  Closing his eyes, Colby honed in on his Core.

  The wooden hatch that led down to his cave-cellar mix slammed shut. The culprit was none other than Curd-Cutter, who just so happened to finish checking up on the Gouda that was currently aging.

  Walking up to the knife, Colby asked, “How good are you at cutting circles?”

  Curd-Cutter shrugged.

  Yeah, he thought so. Cutting things into thin strips or even small cubes was easy. What he needed was a perfect circle—two perfect circles—something he, and apparently Curd-Cutter, lacked the skill to perform.

  It was just a small hiccup. As long as he had something round, he could use it as a guideline to cut out a perfectly round wheel of cheese. There was Pottingham, Cheese Bowl, and even Cheese Press. Unfortunately, there was one small problem—they weren’t small enough.

  Fortunately, he did have a roundabout idea to fix that issue. It’s just that it might make his already iffy relationship with a certain Core Construct even worse.

  Colby gathered Curd-Cutter, Temp-tation, Cheese Bowl, Cheese-lander, and Pottingham in front of Smart Waiter.

  Keeping a low volume, he asked, “How’s Cheese Press?”

  “Not good,” Pottingham signed, shaking his head.

  Cheese Bowl waved his noodle-limbs, signing, “I keep trying to get him to play Rock-Paper-Scissors with me, but he always gets scared and shakes in place until I leave.”

  “Same here,” signed Cheese-lander.

  “I tried to put my moves on him, but all he did was get scared and make Stove mad,” signed Temp-tation. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

  Curd-Cutter patted the glass thermometer on the back, cheering her up.

  Smart Waiter opened his hatch, producing a sign that read, “Master. Might I ask why you are questioning Cheese Press’s performance? You’re not planning anything, are you? Something even worse than whey-boarding him?”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  “I’m not sure if it’s worse, but I am planning on using him for something,” Colby whispered.

  The Core Constructs started waving their noodle-like limbs, a flurry of gestures that could essentially be boiled down to. “Don’t get rid of him, please. We’ll help Cheese Press. You can’t just deconstruct one of us like that.”

  “I’m not going to deconstruct him,” Colby whispered. “I need Cheese Press’s help with something. It’s just that what I need to do to him isn’t the nicest thing in the world.”

  Smart Waiter pulled out another sign that read, “Master. What exactly do you plan to do to Cheese Press?”

  Colby sighed and whispered his ingenious idea to the small gathering of Core Constructs.

  “Do you all have any better ideas?” he asked.

  “That certainly might work,” read Smart Waiter’s sign. “However, I am unable to formulate an alternative plan.”

  Colby sighed, “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. Can I count on you all to cheer him up after I’m done with him?”

  They gathered into a tight huddle right in front of Smart Waiter, discussing amongst themselves before they looked up and nodded at him.

  “Thanks, guys. But first, I need some mozzarella.”

  His Core Constructs dispersed as they helped him make a ball of mozzarella. After retrieving its kneaded form from the fused Bowl-lander, he approached Cheese Press with Curd-Cutter in hand. Every step he took closer caused the Core Construct to tremble even further—eclipsing even the Skate Goat.

  “Hey, little fella,” Colby said.

  Cheese Press shuddered in place so hard, Colby was worried the Core Construct might just vibrate himself to death.

  “P-please don’t torture me,” signed Cheese Press.

  “I’m not. I’m not. I never intended to hurt you. The whey-boarding was an accident. I’m really sorry,” Colby said. “But that’s not what I’m here for. I just need you to press this piece of mozzarella into a wheel.”

  “T-that’s it? N-no torture?”

  Colby crossed his fingers behind his back, his heart aching as he said, “Promise.”

  “O-okay. I-I-I’ll try.”

  Colby slowly lowered the ball of mozzarella into the circular mold, then took a step back as Cheese Press got to work.

  Wooden noodle-like limbs sprouted from its frame, adjusting the bucket of weights on its lever arm, shifting them to the next notch until the piston pad started to shift downwards.

  It pressed downwards, squeezing the ball of mozzarella within the mold. After a moment, Cheese Press shifted the piston upwards, revealing the neatly formed wheel of mozzarella.

  Colby reached in, retrieving it and feeling the cheese in his fingers. It was soft, the edges beginning to sag and sink back into a blob.

  Though not remotely Cheese Press’s fault, it was a good enough excuse for him to do this.

  Sorry, Cheese Press. Please forgive me.

  Sensing what he was about to do, Curd-Cutter turned away, unable to bear witness to Colby’s abominable actions.

  “You call this pressing?”Colby yelled, shaking the mozzarella in his hand. “Even I can press better than that!”

  “B-but…B-but,” Cheese Press signed, trembling even harder in place.

  “Don’t give me any buts. I don’t need any buts. I need my cheese pressed into a wheel, not a butt. If you can’t do it, then maybe I’ll make a new Core Construct who can.”

  “P-p-please, don’t deconstruct me. P-please.”

  Colby glared at the Core Construct, trying his best to look as furious as possible.

  Deep down, he was hurting. To treat a Core Construct like this, especially Cheese Press?

  Curds! He was the worst person in the world.

  Mana flowed into Cheese Press as Colby channeled his intent through the Core Construct.

  Colby was trying to make Cheese Press ‘shrink with fear’. And unfortunately, it was working.

  Congratulations! Cheese Press has reached Level 2!

  Colby sighed. He really was a horrible person.

  Cheese Press continued to shake in fear, his entire frame slowly shrinking down as more and more Mana was sucked into him.

  Colby’s lips quivered, anguish spreading throughout his face as he watched Cheese Press continue to ‘shrink with fear’. The moment that he was small enough, Colby immediately canceled that intent.

  Though Cheese Press had stopped shrinking, he still trembled in fear.

  Colby got down to his knees, hugging the minuscule Core Construct that was barely taller than a bottle of milk. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this. I mean, I did, but I don’t plan on deconstructing you. I just needed you to be a bit smaller. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Cheese Press didn’t sign anything. He just closed his eyes and continued to shake within his grasp.

  Colby felt something tap his arm. Looking down, it was Curd-Cutter. He was motioning to the sagging mozzarella.

  “I know. I know,” Colby said. “It’s just… I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”

  Curd-Cutter gently tapped his leg, refusing to comment on it.

  Sighing, Colby removed the teeny-tiny circular cheese mold from Cheese Press. Instantly, plastic noodle-like limbs shot out from the side, as he frantically signed, “Please don’t deconstruct me. Please don’t deconstruct me. I promise to be useful. I promise to be useful. Please don’t deconstruct me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Colby said, bringing the mold close to his chest. “I’m not going to deconstruct you. And I don’t want to hurt you. So, please just keep your hands tucked in, for now. Please.”

  Colby placed the trembling cheese mold on top of Stove and used his hands to hold him steady.

  Separating the mozzarella into two, Colby placed one piece underneath the mold. Now, holding Curd-Cutter by the blade, he channeled the intent to ‘cut the fluff’ and sliced the mozzarella, using Cheese Press’s mold as a guideline.

  Now he had two hard wheels of cheese, which should hopefully be strong enough to hold up the Skate Goat.

  Colby sprinted back, placing the circular mold back into Cheese Press’s wooden body, which still continued to tremble in fear.

  All of his Core Constructs—the mobile ones at least—leaped into action. They surrounded the tiny Cheese Press, giving him big pats on his back, trying their best to comfort and reassure him.

  Colby sighed.

  Cheese Press didn’t deserve this.

  He loaded up the two cheese wheels into Smart Waiter and exited his Core.

  Congratulations, you have learned a new spell, [Wheel of Cheese]!

  Wheel of Cheese:

  The wheel, the most traditional form of cheese. Its shape is perfect for aging, or if one so inclines, rolling it down a hill and chasing after it.

  (Each level slightly increases the structural integrity of the wheel.)

  (Each level slightly enhances the property of cheese made to form the wheel.)

  Though he had learnt a new spell, he wasn’t ecstatic in the slightest.

  He ignored the trembling Skate Goat and the growling Thornelius, moving closer to the broken skateboard.

  With what little strength he had, he jammed it into the wooden axle before giving it a quick flick and watching it roll to a stop. Everything looked to be in place.

  This piece of cheese was significantly harder than his first attempt. Hopefully, it would be strong enough.

  Still sitting on the floor, Colby pushed the skateboard to the Skate Goat. Despite being overwhelmed with fear from Thornelius, it managed to lift a shaky hoof, stopping the board before it rolled off into a bush.

  Forcing a smile, Colby nodded and pointed to the skateboard once again.

  The Skate Goat looked at him, then Thornelius, before glancing back at the board. It placed a single hoof, watching for any signs of strain. There was none. Then a second hoof. The wheels still held strong. A third and then a fourth, the Skate Goat was standing on the skateboard with the wheels still holding on strong.

  Excited, it pushed off. The wheels rolled smoothly as it rode around him in circles, letting out happy goaty bleats.

  Yes! It worked! Now to collect his reward. And hopefully, the Skate Goat understood. Also, he hoped the Skate Goat was a she, not a he.

  Colby opened up his Inventory. Just as he was about to stick his hand into the screen and pull out an empty bottle, the Skate Goat performed a kickflip.

  He watched as the goat leaped into the air, the wooden skateboard flipping beneath its hooves, before it slammed back down, with a splintering, heart-wrenching crunch.

  Colby groaned.

  He recognized the sound of crumbling cheese anywhere. He didn’t need to look to know that the [Wheels of Cheese] had shattered.

  His cheese was hard enough to withstand the Skate Goat’s weight, but not hard enough to endure such a landing.

  Colby needed to make his [Wheel of Cheese] even harder. But how?

  Curd-Cutter was already cutting as much fluff as possible. Any harder and he wouldn’t be able to slice through it.

  The solution was obvious. He wanted to do this after he had procured the Skate Goat milk, but it looks like the timeline had been shifted up.

  He was going to have to upgrade Curd-Cutter.