Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Skydiving
Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Skydiving
“Damn it! Other people who transmigrate either get a smooth soul-transfer or drop straight into some girl’s bedroom. Why the hell do I get the extreme skydiving package from ten thousand meters up? If you can’t even pick a proper landing spot, then just don’t send me at all!”
Terra Continent, somewhere along the Iberian coastline.
A lone figure suddenly shot up from beneath the waves, staggering a few steps before collapsing onto the sandy beach like a fish out of water.
He spat out two mouthfuls of seawater, then lay back limply on the sand like a salted fish. The boy, named Steven, started venting his frustrations at the heavens.
As a veteran transmigrator, this wasn’t even his first time being sent to a different world. But compared to the minecraft world he’d been thrown into before, this time’s experience was downright unacceptable.
If not for the fact that he’d already been hardened into a Real Life version of Minecrafter, he probably would’ve died the instant he hit the surface.
A freefall from over ten thousand meters, no parachute, no protection—hitting water like that was no different from slamming into concrete.
And to make matters worse, he didn’t even land cleanly in the water. Nope. He just had to crash headfirst into someone—specifically, a girl dashing across the waves at inhuman speed.
Yeah. That very same unfortunate “victim” was now drifting ashore beside him.
He swore on the heavens: when he was falling, he had checked—there was no one in that patch of ocean! So how the hell did this girl just suddenly rocket up out of the depths like a damn swordfish? If anything, this was a cosmic-level accident, not entirely his fault.
“…Still, to survive getting smashed like that without turning into paste… her body’s gotta be at least Captain America-tier, right?”
Glancing at the tall girl he had dragged ashore, Steven couldn’t help but feel a bit worried.
Had he landed in some world where Super Saiyans roamed around by the dozen? He had just escaped from one hellish world; the last thing he wanted was to be thrown into another nightmare.
At the very least, one thing was clear: this was definitely not his old world. Proof? The sky here had two moons hanging high and bright.
Who knew what kind of bizarre world this was?
…Well, whatever. May as well admire the girl while he recovered.
Turning his gaze to the girl lying beside him, Steven realized he hadn’t had the chance to properly look at her before. The moment he’d slammed into her, things had gotten chaotic, and then the current dragged them both under—no time to take in details.
Now, finally, he could.
The first thing he noticed was the strange triangular hat perched on her head—something you’d normally see on Western hunters. Yet beneath it was a face that fit the ideal beauty standards of the East.
Her long white hair, damp and clinging from seawater, framed a complexion so pale it was almost unreal. Far from ruining her looks, it only added a unique charm. And peeking out from behind those silken strands—an unmistakable pair of pointed, elven ears.
“…Not human, huh.”
Steven stared at those delicate ears, fighting the sudden, irresistible urge to reach out and squeeze them, just to see what they felt like.
Still, what comforted him more than anything was this:
After who knew how many years, he was finally looking at a face that actually resembled a normal human’s.
Because honestly—who the hell had faces made into a cube?! Even a square jaw had its limits!
Steven finally couldn’t resist the impulse bubbling up inside him.
He reached out toward the unconscious girl—not to touch the lofty peaks hidden beneath her strange black cloak and formal attire, but instead, without hesitation, pinched her soft little cheeks.
Like kneading dough, he stretched and squished that delicate, flawless face into all kinds of silly shapes. Sure, he knew this was… well, a little out of line. But after so many years without seeing what a proper human face was supposed to look like, he simply couldn’t hold back the urge in his heart.
“Ahhh… feels so good when it’s not blocky.”
Just rubbing her face gave him the kind of emotion that made him want to cry.
No one could possibly understand what it was like—living for centuries in a world made entirely of cubes and pixels. Except him, the poor unlucky bastard who had gotten tossed into Minecraft.
Watermelons were cubes, houses were cubes, even the damn sun was a cube. And Steven himself? Yup. Cube.
Forget a girl with this kind of flawless face—if someone with an ugly bastard face had shown up, Steven probably would’ve been just as eager to squish it right now.
But then—
While he was still happily kneading away, a piercing gaze suddenly stabbed into him like a blade. He froze, and when he glanced down, he found himself staring straight into a pair of blood-red eyes.
Ruby-red didn’t even begin to describe their brilliance. Those eyes burned with fury, with killing intent so sharp it practically screamed: you’re already dead.
“Uh…”
“Y-You’re… awake?”
Getting caught red-handed while squishing someone’s face in their sleep—yeah, Steven had no idea how to explain himself. So he just kept awkwardly holding her cheeks, forcing out the stiffest smile of his life.
He even forgot to move his hands away.
“……”
The white-haired girl didn’t speak. She just kept glaring at him, cold and merciless, like she was already picturing his corpse.
Steven’s first instinct was to reach into his inventory, summon his trusty Netherite Sword, and brace for a fight—
—but then her sharp, unyielding eyes suddenly flickered with confusion.
It spread quickly, washing over her gaze until all the hostility and clarity faded away. Like someone desperately trying to remember something they couldn’t, she shook her head violently. Her triangular hunter’s hat fell off with the motion, and along with it, the last trace of light disappeared from her eyes.
Her once-razor gaze softened. Instead of pulling away from his hands, she leaned her cheek back into his stiff palm. With an innocence almost childlike, she looked up at him, lips parting ever so slightly.
And then she said a single word that froze Steven in place.
“…Dad?”
Steven went rigid as though a petrification spell had hit him. He just stood there, stunned, while the tall girl nuzzled her face against his hand like a kitten, all too happy to cling to him.
…
Wait.
When he’d crashed earlier… hadn’t his head slammed right into hers?
Don’t tell him—
Did he actually bonk her brain into stupidity?
So this was it, huh? He transmigrates… only to immediately get railroaded into becoming someone’s dad?!
<+>
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Local Admin Are So Rude
Chapter Text
Chapter 2: The Local Gang Really Has No Manners
Steven had imagined plenty of scenarios for when the girl woke up, but this… yeah, this was nowhere on the list.
From every possible angle, this was just way too weird.
“No, no, no—snap out of it, okay? I just transmigrated, I’m not unlocking the ‘Congratulations, You’re a Dad!’ achievement on day one!”
He stood frozen for a good while before he finally came back to his senses. Grabbing the girl’s delicate little face again, he shook it with the desperate hope that maybe he could jiggle her brain back into working order.
If a computer freezes, the first instinct is to give it a smack or shake. Brains should be the same… right?
Her beautiful features scrunched up like mochi under his hands, but she only stared blankly at him. And then—she smiled. A silly, innocent smile, like she thought this was some sort of father-daughter game.
“…I’m doomed.”
Covering his face, Steven slumped in defeat. He would’ve much preferred if she’d woken up furious, ready to fight him to the death. At least then, he’d have confidence he could win.
But now? Now he had no idea how to deal with this pure, childlike gaze that treated him like her new papa.
Leaving her behind wasn’t an option either. She was in this state because of him—because he’d crashed into her head-first. Abandoning her would’ve been scummy on a whole new level.
But accepting it? Just going along with having a random daughter dropped on him? Nope. Hard pass.
“Why can’t I just be a heartless bastard for once…”
Rubbing his forehead in frustration, Steven realized he was completely out of ideas.
At this point, the only option left was to see if his own methods could fix her.
“Activate Entity Information Display Mod.”
The moment he silently gave the command, a tiny hammer icon appeared in his vision, tapping away as if installing software.
This wasn’t his first rodeo as a transmigrator. Steven was no ordinary high schooler anymore. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived a ten-thousand-meter freefall headbutt with zero damage.
After all, he’d spent who knew how many years grinding in the Minecraft world. He was well aware of his identity as a seasoned Minecrafter.
Sure, he’d gotten so bored in the end that he switched off all his mods just to play plain vanilla survival like some kind of retirement hobby. But this was a brand-new world—no way he could keep being lazy now.
Acting weak to hide your strength was fun and all, but not if people actually mistook you for a pig and butchered you.
Ding!
With a crisp installation chime, a line of glowing green text appeared above the girl’s head:
[Abyssal Hunter: Gladiia, Severe Head Injury, Currently Amnesiac]
So she really was amnesiac, not just faking it. Steven even got her name as a bonus. Not that it helped much.
He didn’t recognize the name, but at least it confirmed one thing: his cheat system still worked in this world.
“Alright, next: Install Minimap Mod.”
“Install Language Localization Mod.”
“Install Better Status Display Mod.”
“Install JEI Item Manager Mod.”
One by one, he swiftly equipped himself with the most essential mods. His vision filled with all kinds of familiar UI windows, like he’d just put on an old, comfy pair of shoes.
“And now for the most important part…”
“/gamemode 1.”
Steven typed in a string of commands into his interface. But before he could finish entering them, a strange notification chime rang in his ears.
[Ding! Insufficient (WAP) World Acknowledgement Point. Forcing Creative Mode will result in *** being expelled from this world.]
“…The hell? World Acknowledgement Point?”
He blinked, then noticed a new, ominous buff suddenly hanging in his status bar.
[Rejection of World Will I: Duration ∞]
(Your power has drawn the displeasure of this world’s will.)
“….”
Steven was speechless. Sure, as a transmigrator, he obviously didn’t belong here. But who gets marked by the world’s will the moment they arrive?
Talk about unfriendly local gangs—no manners at all!
It’s not like he came here to blow up the place. He just wanted to join the world, not destroy it. So why was he being treated like some kind of virus?
He glanced up at the twin moons hanging in the sky and sighed quietly. Sure enough, it was the same everywhere: transmigrators were always treated like stray dogs nobody wanted.
Just like back when he got tossed into that blocky world. Only there, the world will tormented him by endlessly adding new mods specifically to counter him. Here, it seemed much more direct.
At least this buff didn’t have any negative effects yet. It felt more like a warning than an actual punishment.
Still, when he examined his status carefully, he found the culprit: a new stat labeled World Acknowledgement Point.
[Remaining WAP (World Acknowledgement Point): 15]
(Enabling mods consumes points. If points fall below zero, you will be rejected by the world.)
“…Oh, I get it.”
Steven scratched his head. As a man of culture—who had binge-read countless web novels before transmigrating—he quickly figured out what this meant.
Basically, it was a limiter. A currency system for using his cheats. If he wanted to use hacks, he had to earn the world’s approval first. Functionally, it wasn’t that different from the usual “gain points to trade for cheats” system.
The only difference was that these hacks were already his. He could activate them anytime. Worst-case scenario, he’d just get caught and booted from the server afterward.
And that—getting kicked out right after finally arriving here—was absolutely unacceptable.
“The real question is… how do I get more points? Quests? Grinding EXP? Robbing people?”
Steven frowned, chin in hand, and opened his minimap.
[Terra Continent — Iberian Coast x:23231 z:-41754 y:21]
Coordinates and location, neatly displayed. And the name Terra—yeah, that rang a bell.
Terraria. Another sandbox legend, right up there with Minecraft. No self-respecting gamer-otaku like him wouldn’t know it.
But hang on. If this really was Terraria, shouldn’t it all be pixelated too? Why did it look so… crisp and real?
He glanced at the white-haired girl beside him, who was watching him with wide, innocent eyes, then shook his head.
The visuals here were definitely not pixel-art mode.
“…Dad?”
The girl, Gladiia, clearly had no idea what was going through Steven’s mind. When she saw him spacing out again, she reached out, grabbed his hand, and pressed it gently against her forehead and cheek. Tilting her head pitifully, she looked up at him with puppy eyes.
“…We’ll fix your brain later. Be good, go play with some sand for now, alright?”
Her timing completely derailed his thoughts. Helplessly, Steven ruffled her silky white hair before trying to shoo her off to the side.
[Ding! Interaction with story character detected. World Acknowledgement Point +1.]
“…Huh?”
Steven froze mid-headpat.
Wait. Wait wait wait.
You mean I can earn points just by petting people’s heads?
<+>
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Steven, How Could You Be Like This?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Steven had expected that obtaining [WAP (World Acknowledgement Point)] might be a bit unusual, but what he hadn’t expected was that the first time he earned them was by stroking someone’s head.
Turning slightly, he glanced at Gladiia, who was now looking completely blissful from his head pats. At this moment, she seemed like a walking WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) farming machine to him.
Back in Minecraft, anything that could be sustainably farmed was typically automated into a production line for maximum efficiency.
That said, Steven wasn’t quite at the point where he’d be getting publicly executed for crimes against humanity just yet.
Even though the girl had a tall and slender build, she stood beside Steven—who was already 1.8 meters tall—without looking the least bit inferior. The contrast between her innocent, adorable expression and her strange yet sharp-looking outfit gave Steven a strange sense of accomplishment.
This situation… doesn’t seem too bad, actually?
“…Nah, forget it. Taking advantage of an amnesiac girl just sounds way too embarrassing.”
Letting out a regretful sigh, Steven dismissed the idea of farming points from her indefinitely.
Sure, patting a pretty girl felt great, but using her as a tool for personal gain? That just sucked all the fun out of it.
First, he needed to find a way to cure her memory loss.
Checking his inventory, Steven’s expression darkened slightly in disappointment.
His second transmigration had been even more abrupt than the first. At least back when he was thrown into Minecraft, he could blame it on that damned dump truck that hit him.
But this time? He was just chilling in his backyard, preparing to trade some emeralds with the villagers that he had captured a few days earlier, and in the very next moment—BAM—he was falling from ten thousand meters above the ocean.
Aside from a few gold ingots (meant for trading) and some steaks and milk (for daily sustenance), he didn’t even have the basic armor equipped.
As for weapons? He only had a single Netherite Sword, meant for dealing with scammer villagers who dared to trade him one potato for twenty emeralds.
After all, he had already retired into peaceful vanilla survival—why would he need to carry an arsenal of items?
"No healing potions on me… not that they would necessarily fix memory loss anyway. I've got a bucket of milk, but will that even work on amnesia? And since it's my only one, I'd rather save it just in case."
Muttering to himself, Steven tried to figure out how he could restore the girl’s memories. Meanwhile, he couldn’t help but long for his creative mode privileges again.
If he could just use modded items, he had at least a thousand different ways to fix her—but alas, none of them were available.
Steven was not about to risk getting kicked out of this world so soon.
"So... is head-patting really my only way to farm points right now?"
Despite voicing his reluctance, his hand didn’t stop moving—his fingers continued to glide through Gladiia’s silky white hair, just like petting a soft, fluffy cat.
Sure, this "cat" was a bit on the tall side, but who in their right mind would turn down the chance to touch a beautiful girl?
[Ding! World Acknowledgement Point +1, +1, +1, —]
‘Hah… Steven, O’Steven, how could you fall so low?’
While he scolded himself internally, his lips curled into an uncontrollable smile.
‘Just ten more pats…’
As for the girl herself, Gladiia seemed to be thoroughly enjoying Steven’s head pats. Her pale, almost porcelain-like skin glowed with happiness, and her smile radiated pure joy—she looked exactly like a little girl basking in her father’s affectionate encouragement.
‘She must’ve been seriously starved for fatherly love before she lost her memory.’
As Steven came to this conclusion, he also considered where to farm more WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) next and, more importantly, how to cure the girl’s amnesia.
Unfortunately, before he could reach his ten-head-pats milestone, a group of creatures emerged from the waters before him, interrupting his movements.
The dim moonlight made the churning sea look even more ominous, and along with the waves, a foul stench of fermented seafood drifted onto shore. Accompanying this putrid odor was a swarm of creatures so grotesque that Steven found himself at a loss for words.
Calling them "ugly" would be too simplistic—if anything, they looked like an unholy fusion of fish heads, various marine body parts, and the gelatinous torsos of cephalopods. Just looking at them made Steven question what kind of abstract deity could have possibly created such horrors.
[Seaborn Elite: The Endspeaker, Will of We Many]
The weirdly titled creatures clearly hadn’t crawled onto land just to disgust him—they had already begun encircling Steven the moment they emerged from the sea.
“Hey, can you guys back up a bit? You seriously stink. You live in the ocean, would it kill you to wash yourselves every once in a while?”
Despite being surrounded, Steven’s expression remained completely unbothered.
He hadn't just come ashore to head-pat a cute girl—he was also baiting out whatever had been following him since he fell from the sky. This was why he had been waiting here in the first place.
Figuring out who was tracking him was crucial—Steven wasn’t planning to live his life constantly being tailed by some mysterious entities.
That being said, judging by their formation and aggressive posture, this problem wasn’t going to be as simple to resolve peacefully as he had hoped.
It wasn’t that Steven was judging them based on appearances, but when a bunch of eldritch sea monsters looked at you like you were their next meal, it was pretty damn hard to misinterpret their intentions.
What surprised him, however, was that after he made his snarky remark, the creatures actually paused their approach.
After a few moments of uneasy, guttural growls, one of the larger and clearly stronger monsters stepped forward.
“Land… dweller… Why… do you speak… our tongue?”
The sounds it made were deep, grating, and guttural, yet Steven understood them effortlessly.
Scratching his ear, he hesitated, unsure how to even begin explaining.
He couldn’t exactly tell them, "Oh yeah, I just happen to have an automatic language translation mod installed. Everything I hear and say is instantly converted to something that he can understand, no matter the original language."
—Actually, considering his situation, maybe he should pursue a career as an interpreter someday.
Seeing that Steven wasn’t answering, the creature’s confusion grew, but now that it knew Steven could communicate, it refrained from immediately attacking.
“Return… our kin… Together… return to the sea.”
Raising a slimy, tentacle-like limb, the creature pointed its dripping appendage toward the girl behind Steven.
“…Oh, so you weren’t after me? Well, that makes way more sense.”
Glancing at Gladiia, who had instinctively taken a defensive stance, Steven’s suspicion was confirmed.
He had already noticed earlier that her swimming speed was more like someone desperately escaping rather than casually traversing the ocean.
So these guys were the ones chasing her back then.
“Alright then… and what if I refuse?”
Steven wasn’t about to hand over the girl when he could see the sheer disgust and hostility in her eyes toward these creatures.
Seriously? A beautiful girl and these grotesque abominations being the same species? Yeah, right.
“Resistance… is futile… You will become… nourishment… for our growth.”
“…So there’s no room for negotiation, huh?”
Steven’s gaze swept across the horde of monsters, their twisted bodies nearly covering the entire beachfront before him.
“See, if you had just been upfront about this from the start, I wouldn’t have to feel bad about killing you.”
With a relieved smile, Steven reached into his inventory and pulled out a long, sinister-looking sword—its purple-black blade radiating an eerie glow.
At the same time, he turned toward the creatures with a cold, predatory grin.
Chapter 4: Chapter 4: The Purity is Too Low
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
The moment Steven drew his weapon, the eerie stalemate on the beach was shattered.
These creatures—called Seaborn—were clearly not the most rational beings to begin with. Their earlier attempt at negotiation had likely been an act of forced restraint, suppressing their wild instincts just to talk things out.
Now that Steven refused to cooperate, there was no longer any need for them to hold back.
"Flesh. Nutrients. Food."
With a piercing shriek, the once-still monsters erupted into a frenzy, charging at Steven like a pack of starving wolves, swiftly encircling him.
One versus a swarm—in terms of both numbers and size, Steven was clearly at a disadvantage.
At least, that’s how it seemed.
Steven, as if realizing this himself, froze in place after drawing his purple-black longsword, standing motionless as if paralyzed by the overwhelming pressure emanating from the monstrous horde.
As the largest and strongest of the creatures closed in on him, its rotting, putrid stench all but flooding his senses, Steven finally reacted, gripping his sword’s hilt tightly.
But it was too late.
The monster’s slime-coated, razor-sharp claws were already mere inches away—one clean strike, and Steven would be cleaved in half.
CLANG!
A sharp, metallic clash rang out.
The purple-black sword had suddenly intercepted the lethal claw, stopping the killing blow in its tracks.
Steven, who had remained motionless up until now, casually exerted a little force, as if swatting away an annoying insect.
The giant monster—which had been trying to push past his sword—was launched into the air and sent flying.
“…Seriously? That’s it?”
Steven blinked, looking almost disappointed.
With how hideous these creatures looked, he had assumed they had sacrificed appearance for power—but apparently, they were just weak AND ugly.
Honestly, he was finding it hard to believe.
The reason he had stood still at first was simply because these things were so slow—about as threatening as a grandma power-walking toward him.
He had been so baffled by their lack of speed that he hadn't even known how to react.
Watching Gladiia’s swimming speed earlier had made him think that people in this world were at least Captain America-tier in terms of physical ability.
But seeing these monsters move… yeah, he had definitely overestimated them.
Since they had chased down Gladiia, he had assumed they were at least on her level.
But after this little exchange?
What a disappointment.
They are simply way too damn weak.
Did this thing actually think that mutated claws alone could match his battle-hardened physique?
"Maybe they are just some random cannon fodder?."
Casually dismissing the idea that he might just be too strong, Steven effortlessly cleaved another monster in two as it tried to sneak attack him.
"Not fast, not strong, and not even smart."
Shaking his head, Steven gave them his final assessment.
"Aside from being ugly, you're completely useless."
Now, if it were any other task, Steven might not have been particularly skilled.
But fighting?
Now that, he could get into.
After spending years grinding in Minecraft, he'd lost count of the sheer number of zombies and skeletons he had slain.
At the very least, when it came to fighting monsters, Steven had full confidence in his skills.
The more you kill, the more efficient you get.
Not giving the creatures a single moment to recover, Steven swiftly cut them down one after another—each sword swing harvesting another life.
Sure, he had flashy techniques too, but those were mod-based skills.
In reality, the only thing he had at the moment was plain, no-nonsense swordplay.
Luckily, the "brute force" approach worked just fine—everywhere.
And Steven wasn’t just "a little strong".
As a Minecrafter, even he wasn’t entirely sure how much strength he actually had.
People die when they are killed, and so do monsters.
In mere moments, the once-ferocious horde that had attempted to surround and slaughter Steven lay scattered across the beach, their bodies lifeless.
Except for the first, particularly strong one that had been sent flying, every single one of them had been cleaved in half from various angles by Steven’s sword.
[Ding! You have slain a plot monster. World Acknowledgement Point +10, +10, +10—]
A string of notifications flashed at the bottom-right of his vision.
Steven blinked in surprise—then his grin widened.
So... even fighting could increase this point system?
That meant he was finally starting to understand how to farm points.
Basically, all he had to do was stir up chaos, right?
And judging by the notification, every target seemed to be classified as either a plot character or a plot monster.
Rubbing his chin in thought, he strolled over to the strongest Seaborn, who was currently struggling to pull itself out of the sand, its body half-buried from Steven’s earlier attack.
Without hesitation, Steven stomped down, crushing the creature’s forelimb beneath his foot.
Only then did he squat down beside it.
"Mind answering a few questions for me?"
Steven might just be the first person in the world to try interrogating a Seaborn.
But what choice did he have?
This was the only one left that could still talk—the other one had been smacked into brain damage by him.
"You... monster... must warn... my kin..."
Even with its limb shattered, the creature didn’t seem to feel any pain.
Its single, lifeless fish-like eye remained locked onto Steven, tinged with caution.
"Wow, getting called a 'monster' by something like you? I'm honestly honored."
Steven scoffed.
"What, just 'cause I’m a little strong, you think it’s polite to call me that?"
As he spoke, he casually swung his sword, severing the limb the creature had been hiding beneath the sand, trying to launch a sneak attack.
Smart? Not really.
But cheap tricks? Yeah, this thing had plenty.
"You... cannot... stop... evolution... I will... return..."
Perhaps sensing its imminent demise, the Seaborn shifted its gaze—away from Steven, and onto the girl hiding behind him.
"Kin... we will... reunite... in the depths of the sea..."
The words, spoken in a trembling stammer, were cut short.
A black, trident-like spear suddenly pierced through its skull, splattering foul-smelling blood in all directions.
Steven’s eyelid twitched.
He turned his head—only to see the girl behind him gripping a strange weapon that he had no idea where she got from.
The once frail, timid girl who had been hiding behind him this whole time now radiated a sharp, commanding aura—the same one she had when he first met her.
But the change was fleeting.
The moment she delivered the finishing blow, her eyes became vacant again, her expression slipping back into confusion.
"Wait a damn second—did you seriously just kill-steal me and then go back to being dumb?!"
Realizing what had just happened, Steven immediately stood up and pinched her soft, bouncy cheeks in frustration.
If it weren’t for the status indicator hovering above her head confirming that she was still "amnesiac", Steven would’ve bet money that she was just pretending.
Honestly, if he didn’t at least squeeze her cheeks a bit, he’d feel like he wasted ten WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) on that damn kill-steal.
But before he could start, the girl—Gladiia—suddenly collapsed against his chest, as if drained of all her strength.
The girl's warm, soft, and fragrant body lay nestled in his arms.
Steven had intended to pinch her harder as punishment—but in the end, he let it slide.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Doomed to Die
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Iberia, outside the Sea Breeze Village.
A dilapidated fishing village, rarely visited by merchants due to the ban on seafaring, found itself hosting two foreign visitors today.
More precisely—two Ægir.
Perhaps it had been too long since the villagers had seen outsiders, but the arrival of these two brought a breath of fresh air to the otherwise decayed and ruined settlement. Before long, a small crowd of over a dozen villagers had gathered to spectate.
The visitors, of course, were none other than Steven, carrying Gladiia, who had spent half the day searching for signs of civilization along the shoreline.
"Uh... Can you all stop staring? Is there a place where we can rest? My friend is injured."
Steven felt uncomfortable under the curious yet slightly fearful gazes of the villagers and decided to break the eerie silence.
Honestly, compared to himself, these villagers—with their strange animal ears and tails—were the real oddities here.
Cat ears? Dog ears?—Sure, those were cute when attached to a pretty girl.
But seeing an elderly man, halfway into his grave, still sporting animal features?
Steven had no idea how to react.
What kind of furry-loving admin created this world?
"Outsiders are not welcome here."
A hoarse, elderly voice emerged from the crowd.
Supported by a few younger, sturdier villagers, a frail-looking old man stepped forward, immediately rejecting Steven.
Judging by the respectful yet fearful glances from the other villagers, it was clear that this old man held high status in the village.
However, the bird-feather-like headdress atop his head nearly made Steven burst out laughing.
What was this? Some kind of Native American tribe?
"Not even if I pay? I just need a place to rest—nothing more."
Steven didn’t mind spending the night in the wilderness, but with Gladiia unconscious, he preferred to stay in the village if possible.
After defeating the Seaborn Elite, Gladiia had fallen into a deep coma.
With no medical supplies on him, Steven could only hope to buy some provisions in the village.
As for money...
He reached into his pocket—or at least pretended to—while actually opening his inventory and retrieving a gold ingot, then breaking it down into gold nuggets.
Then, Steven pulled out one gold nugget, roughly the size of a pigeon egg, radiating a brilliant golden glow.
Even if this was another world, gold should still hold some value, right?
Steven wasn’t entirely sure which game or fantasy setting this world was based on, but he trusted that no one would refuse gold.
And sure enough—
The old man’s eyes flashed with greed the moment he saw the gold nugget.
Steven recognized that look.
It was the same expression Minecraft villagers gave him when he waved emeralds in front of them.
"Guest, this isn’t about money—"
"Three pieces."
"Karl! Clear out the village chief’s room! Prepare it for our most esteemed guest!"
Grabbing the pigeon-egg-sized gold nugget from Steven’s hand, the old man felt its heavy weight, confirming that it was indeed the precious metal loved by nobles.
His withered, bark-like face stretched into a sycophantic smile.
With just three pieces of this gold, they could trade for enough grain to sustain the entire village for months.
For Sea Breeze Village, struggling without a stable source of income, this was nothing short of a lifesaving fortune.
As for the fact that both of these outsiders belonged to the troublesome Ægir race, well—compared to the gold in hand, that was hardly a concern.
The tense, standoff-like atmosphere dissolved instantly.
Steven had to admit—money really could solve most problems. It wasn’t all-powerful, but damn, was it useful.
Of course, that was only true as long as you were the one holding the money.
Noticing the undisguised greed in the eyes of some villagers scattered among the crowd, Steven casually rested his hand on the Netherite Sword at his waist and chuckled softly.
Hopefully, this blade, crafted specifically for dealing with corrupt merchants and troublemakers, wouldn’t have to see any use.
Under the elder’s guidance, Steven carried the still-unconscious Gladiia through the village.
The village was in a state of severe disrepair.
Most of the villagers were emaciated, standing weakly in their doorways, gazing lifelessly at the sky.
To Steven, this didn’t feel like a village.
It felt like a slum suffering from famine.
Even the poorest villages he’d seen before had never been this bad. Here, every single person seemed to be shrouded in a sense of impending death.
Not in some magical, necromantic way.
But in a way that happens when people lose all hope, when they no longer have any reason to keep living.
"Elder?"
"You may call me Chief Pande."
Hearing Steven call out, the old man, who had been leading the way with his cane, turned back with a polite smile.
"Do you require any assistance? I will ask the villagers to help however they can."
"Not really. I was just wondering… It’s the middle of the day. Doesn’t anyone here have work to do?"
Steven wasn’t trying to sound like a capitalist overlord.
But from the moment he entered, he had only seen a village full of idle, lifeless people.
They didn’t even seem human anymore.
More like a gathering of corpses just waiting for death to claim them.
No matter how poor a village was, it shouldn’t be this bad.
Steven was growing more and more curious about what kind of world he had traveled into.
The ocean was filled with grotesque monsters.
The villagers were as good as dead inside.
From the very start, this world felt doomed.
Did he end up in Bloodborne?
"Work?"
The elder paused for a moment before letting out a bitter chuckle.
"Guest, you are not from Iberia, are you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t ask such a naive question."
To work, they would first need a reason to work.
But after that disaster, Sea Breeze Village could no longer harvest anything from the sea.
So, what was there left to do?
Over the years, some had tried to change things, but in the end…
All they could do was watch their village wither away, bit by bit.
The fact that Sea Breeze Village still even existed today had already come at a heavy cost.
"In any case, this will be your lodging for now."
The elder led Steven to a relatively clean guesthouse.
Without explaining any further, he simply gave a solemn warning:
"If you need anything, call for me. But I strongly advise you—avoid walking around the village too much. And do not… try to learn too much."
Leaving those cryptic words, the elder turned and walked away.
Chapter 6: Chapter 6: The Answer Was There from the Start
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
After placing the still-unconscious Gladiia onto the bed, Steven closed the door and sat down at the bedside, pressing a hand to his forehead.
She was sleeping peacefully, but he wasn’t nearly as relaxed.
The top priority right now was figuring out exactly what game or anime this world was from. Only then would he have a clear idea of what he was dealing with.
There must be other methods of obtaining the so-called "World Acknowledgement Points" besides fighting monsters and touching girls.
He had already tested things out on the way to this village.
Most of the mod unlocks required hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of points. Even the most basic everyday utility mods were way beyond his current budget.
At first, he’d been pretty pleased with himself for racking up nearly 200 points after dealing with that monster at the shore.
But looking at the numbers now…
Yeah, no way in hell was he going to grind out enough points for a decent mod just by killing things.
And if he was only earning one point per headpat…
Even if he found a bunch of girls to farm, he’d go bald before he got anywhere.
Steven glanced up at the ceiling and silently cursed whatever will of the world was running this place.
If this world had some kind of god, they were definitely a cowardly bastard.
He needed to find a way to farm points.
Sure, even without mods, he had the combat experience from years spent surviving in Minecraft, not to mention his absurdly strong physical abilities.
There weren’t many people who could take a full-force punch from him and still be standing.
But who would say no to more cheats?
Besides, there was another major issue that made him worry.
He had noticed that his points were slowly depleting over time.
It wasn’t a huge amount—just one point per hour—but the fact that it was constantly draining meant that even if he wanted to just slack off and go full vanilla mode, this world wouldn’t let him.
"So you're forcing me to stir up trouble, huh?"
Steven sighed, frowning slightly.
His points were still enough for now, but…
What if they hit zero?
Would he get kicked out of this world?
"Seriously, where is this place? Terra… Iberia… Why does it sound so familiar, but I just can’t remember?"
Steven rubbed his temples, frustrated.
If only he had a mod that worked like Baidu, he could just look it up.
Then, suddenly—
His eyes lit up as a thought struck him.
He didn’t have a search engine mod…
But the clue had been right there from the start.
Pulling up his system interface, he opened the Achievements tab.
Ignoring the original vanilla achievements, which he had completed years ago, he quickly found a newly added page.
[Arknights World Achievement List]
-
[Entering Terra] Achievement Completed √ World Acknowledgement Points +10,000.
-
[Participating in the Plot: Evil Time] Locked. (Basic Completion Reward: 100,000 World Acknowledgement Points)
-
[Participating in the Plot: Separated Hearts] Locked. (Basic Completion Reward: 100,000 World Acknowledgement Points)
-
[Participating in the Plot: Stinging Shock] Locked. (Basic Completion Reward: 200,000 World Acknowledgement Points)
-
—
Ignoring the long, densely packed tree of locked achievements, Steven simply stared at the one familiar word in the title:
Arknights
He was stunned.
The answer had been right here all along, and yet he had wasted so much brainpower trying to figure it out.
Arknights.
Steven had heard of it before.
But back then, the game’s notoriously cryptic main storyline had scared him off, so he had never jumped into that pitfall.
Besides, he mainly played PC and console games, not mobile ones.
And after getting isekai’d into Minecraft, mobile games had become completely out of the question.
If he could have played gacha games in Minecraft, he wouldn’t have been so desperate to escape!
"Alright, now that I know what kind of world this is… grinding points just got way easier."
Steven stroked his chin, scanning through the list of edgy achievement names.
Even though he had never played the game, Arknights was too well-known for him to be completely clueless.
He knew that all of these dramatic titles came from the game’s main story, meaning they were tied to the protagonist’s adventures.
And since none of them were unlocked yet, that meant the main story hadn’t started.
This was still prequel territory.
Steven didn’t know much about the plot, but he didn’t care about that.
What mattered were the WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) attached to these achievements.
"No wonder killing monsters gives so few points… the real jackpot is right here."
Thinking about it, this actually made a lot of sense.
If this world was structured like a game, then the fastest way to gain the world’s acknowledgement would obviously be participating in the main storyline.
Which meant…
"She must be a major NPC or a gacha-able waifu."
Steven glanced down at the girl who had, at some point, grabbed his hand and was using it as a pillow, sleeping peacefully with a smile on her face.
When he had patted her head, the system prompt had mentioned “interacting with a plot character”.
That meant she was either a key figure in the plot or one of the game’s summonable units.
And Steven knew for a fact that Arknights was a gacha game.
It had a good reputation compared to other cash-grab mobile games, but that didn’t mean it was completely free of monetization traps.
That was one of the reasons he had never played it.
After all, he was broke.
Furthermore, he was one of those ultra-unlucky players who always hit the 100-pull pity rate instead of getting lucky early.
This was too painful to think about, so Steven pushed the traumatic memories aside.
What mattered now was his next move.
The system had already laid out all the ways to farm massive points.
All he had to do was find a way to insert himself into the story.
The achievement requirements were only to “participate”.
And Steven was more than happy to just sit back and watch the drama unfold.
"So the next step is to find that ‘Rhodes’ something-or-other before the main story kicks off."
After all, if he remembered correctly, that was the name of the protagonist’s organization.
Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Not Bad at All
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
After confirming what he needed to do next, Steven finally let go of the worries in his heart.
At first, he thought this was going to be some kind of high-magic, high-power world. But based on what he had learned, most characters in Arknights were only at a level where they could cause some street-level destruction.
In other words, with his current physical abilities, he should be able to handle quite a few incidents even without using any of those random mods.
Of course, expecting Steven to act like an arrogant, overpowered protagonist was a bit too much. To be honest, he didn’t have a deep understanding of this world. Plus, the world-building in Arknights was a bit vague—who knew if there were some hidden monsters lurking around, just waiting to surprise him in an unpleasant way?
It was better to keep a low profile.
"Grrr..."
A strange noise pulled Steven out of his thoughts. He first looked down at his own hunger meter before shifting his gaze to the girl lying on the bed.
...
It seemed that before sneaking into that Rhodes something-or-other, he should probably deal with his so-called adopted daughter’s situation first.
Flipping through his inventory, Steven only found a few raw potatoes, scratching his head in frustration.
There wasn’t a furnace here to roast them, and while he was used to eating raw potatoes, feeding them to a sick girl felt a little too cruel.
He should check if this village had any other edible food. Worst case, he could trade for some coal and roast the potatoes himself.
It was also a good excuse to try out this world’s cuisine. Back in the Minecraft world, he had been eating nothing but potatoes and steaks every day—just the thought of them made him want to vomit.
Just as he was about to get up and look for the village elder, Steven realized that his hand, which was currently being used as a pillow by Gladiia, was firmly trapped.
Even though the girl had lost her memory, her grip strength seemed to be innate—her small hand clutched his so tightly that he couldn’t pull away.
It wasn’t that Steven was weaker than her, but forcibly yanking his hand free might end up hurting her.
Since he preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble, he decided to let it be.
Besides, being relied on like this...
For someone like Steven, who had lived alone in Minecraft for who-knows-how-many years, it had been an awfully long time since he last experienced something like this.
If he’s told to describe this feeling, then it’s not bad at all.
With no other choice, Steven squatted down and gently patted the girl’s slightly panicked head as she sensed his movements. The corners of his lips curled into a faint smile.
If this girl ever regained her memory and found out he had been patting her head like this, she would probably want to kill him, right?
Steven didn’t know what kind of personality this "Gladiia" originally had, but judging from her bold, dashing outfit and the proud, aloof look in her eyes when she was ‘awake’, it was safe to assume she wasn’t the soft, dependent girl she seemed to be right now.
"Oh, right. I need to find her some new clothes. This outfit... how should I put it?"
"It’s sexy, sure, but wearing it as casual daily wear... feels a bit out of place."
Looking at the tight-fitting dress hidden under her stylish cape and the pure white leggings that looked more like something out of a lingerie catalog, Steven could only sigh at how modern mobile game character designers were getting better and better at their craft.
Wearing something this revealing as everyday attire—didn’t anyone feel self-conscious about it?
At the very least, Steven had no intention of walking around with the most eye-catching person in a crowd.
Just as he finally managed to calm down the clearly security-seeking girl and was about to pull the blanket up for her, his movements suddenly froze.
It wasn’t that Steven suddenly had some impulsive, beastly thoughts. It was just that, due to the girl's curled-up sleeping posture, her collar had shifted slightly, revealing not only her slender, snow-white neck and the graceful curve of her ribs but also an unexpectedly eye-catching area.
Beneath what should have been her flawlessly fair skin, several patches of scales—resembling fish scales—had grown abruptly. Their pale gray color looked almost like a sign of some strange infection, ugly and unsettling.
Fortunately, if there was one thing Steven wasn’t concerned about, it was something like this. So after the initial surprise, he reached out and gently touched the peculiar scales.
They felt smooth to the touch, not unlike the scales of a regular fish or lizard. But growing on a human body, they naturally seemed out of place.
Then again, considering how this world seemed full of people with all sorts of bizarre physical traits, a few fish scales didn’t seem all that strange.
Steven originally planned to leave it at that. After all, this was technically the girl’s private matter. Taking advantage of her memory loss to poke around and make judgments felt a little rude.
But then, something clicked in his mind—why did these scales feel so familiar?
No matter how he looked at them, they bore far too much resemblance to the ones he had personally seen—and cut down—on those monstrous creatures from the ocean.
And on top of that, those creatures had addressed this girl as their “kin.”
It was hard not to start connecting the dots.
For example, a certain favorite trope in card-based games—the "enemy and ally originating from the same source" cliché.
Would this girl he had casually picked up as his "adopted daughter" eventually turn into one of those creatures? That would be a real letdown.
“I should wait until she regains her memory before thinking too much about this. It’s her body, so it’s up to her to decide what to do about it.”
Steven wasn’t without solutions for these scales. In fact, as long as someone was still breathing, nothing was beyond fixing for him.
Of course, that was assuming he activated all of his various mods.
For now, he could only set aside his suspicions and keep his thoughts to himself, waiting until the girl regained her memories before discussing the matter with her.
After all, he was the one who had knocked her out and caused her memory loss. That meant he was responsible for her—owning up to his actions was a principle Steven always upheld.
As for what would happen after she woke up?
Well, that wasn’t his problem.
He had only knocked her out, after all. Anything beyond that had nothing to do with him.
With that, Steven adjusted her collar back in place, covering the strange scales, then finally stood up, turned toward the door, and stepped out of the room.
First things first—he needed to find food. Everything else could wait.
But the moment he opened the door, his gaze locked directly onto several suspicious figures sneaking toward his room.
A brief silence fell before them.
Then, Steven raised an eyebrow and casually asked, "Do you need something from me? Or would you like to come in for a chat?"
Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Every World Has Its Own Scheming Villains
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
The few figures sneaking toward Steven’s room clearly hadn’t expected him to step out so suddenly. In an instant, the atmosphere at the doorway dropped to freezing point.
"Go on, speak up. You guys were looking for me, weren’t you?"
Steven watched them with a mildly amused smile. Compared to the other villagers, who wandered around aimlessly like lost souls, these men seemed far more spirited.
He remembered them. Back when he had pulled gold nuggets from his pocket, these were the very same people who had been hiding in the crowd, eyes gleaming with greed.
It seemed that no matter the world, there was never a shortage of scheming opportunists.
If they were here to borrow some money from him, well… that would depend on whether they had the capability to take it.
"..."
"Outsider, you need to understand the rules of this village."
Since their sneaky approach had already been exposed, the villagers no longer bothered to hunch over and hide their intent. Instead, they straightened up and spoke with an air of self-righteousness.
However, their eyes flicked cautiously toward the longsword hanging at Steven’s waist. While their tone was arrogant, they still didn’t dare make a move.
After all, in this world, anyone who walked around openly armed was rarely someone to be trifled with.
"Oh? So this village has some kind of special rules? I’ve been wondering about that. No one’s told me a thing."
Steven was more than happy to chat.
He’s in Minecraft all by himself for so long that he was practically starved for conversation. Even though he knew these people were probably going to spout a bunch of nonsense, he was still willing to humor them.
After all, it’s not like they were charging him for it, right?
"Do you have any idea how much trouble taking in an Ægir like you will bring to our village? Do you know how much risk we have to bear because of it?"
The villagers hadn’t expected Steven to be so easygoing, but they quickly took his attitude as a sign of weakness. Their tone became more aggressive.
"Oh, my bad. I had no idea. But from the way you're saying it, should I be thanking you instead?"
Steven shrugged. He wasn’t from around here—he didn’t even know what the hell an Ægir was supposed to be. How was he supposed to understand the risk they were talking about?
But he was pretty sure they weren’t here just to warn him. The real point was coming up next.
"Of course! Even though you paid the village chief, the danger still affects all of us! Shouldn't you compensate us as well?"
The villager speaking straightened his back, as if completely convinced by his own logic. His tone carried an air of entitlement.
"You make a good point. I didn’t think about that carefully enough. So… you’re here to ask for extra compensation?"
Steven nodded seriously, as if he were genuinely agreeing with their argument.
"Exactly! What you gave before isn’t enough. We deserve our fair share!"
Encouraged by Steven’s seemingly meek response, the men grew bolder, stepping closer to him.
To them, Steven was obviously some rich, clueless noble’s son—someone who could casually pull out gold nuggets must have more money stashed away. If they could just deal with him, they’d be able to take his gold and finally escape this miserable village for a better life in the city.
At this moment, they no longer saw Steven as a mysterious and dangerous outsider.
To them, he was nothing more than a walking pile of gold—the key to their long-desired freedom.
It looked like Steven’s attitude had convinced them—surely, he was going to cooperate, right?
"Oh, I do have more gold, but… can you really represent all the villagers? Maybe I should go talk to the village chief and see what he has to say?"
Steven put on a troubled expression, his gaze filled with confusion and hesitation. Combined with his eternally youthful appearance—forever stuck at eighteen ever since his arrival in this world—he looked exactly like an inexperienced, naive young man who had just stepped into society.
At this moment, even Steven himself felt like he deserved an award for his acting.
"N-no need for that! Just hand the money to us—we’ll make sure it gets distributed to everyone."
The moment Steven mentioned the village chief, the men immediately panicked. It was clear they feared that elderly man—despite the fact that the old chief needed a cane just to walk, his mere name was enough to make their voices weaken.
"Oh? I wasn’t aware that you guys had the authority to speak for the entire village."
Just as Steven was considering how best to end this little act—maybe by teaching these overly bold swindlers a lesson—a deep, aged voice suddenly cut through the conversation.
Pande, the Village Chief, had appeared behind the scheming villagers, his expression calm and unreadable. But despite his frail, aging body, Steven could feel an unmistakable sense of pressure emanating from him.
Was this what they called the aura of someone in power?
Steven hadn’t expected a mere village chief to have such presence.
This world was turning out to be even more interesting than he had thought.
"V-Village Chief, we… we were just trying to—"
The villagers attempted to explain themselves, but a single glance from the old man shut them up instantly.
"Enough. Disperse. Standing around the guest’s door like this—do you want to make a fool of yourselves?"
With just a few words, the would-be extortionists were dismissed.
Steven clearly saw the resentment and unwillingness in their eyes, but not a single one of them dared to defy the village chief.
Interesting.
A bit of a shame, though—Steven had wanted to interact with these low-level troublemakers, maybe even earn some WAPs or something.
But now, that didn’t seem possible anymore.
Letting out a small sigh of disappointment, he shifted his gaze back to the old man who was now walking toward him, leaning on his cane.
"Guest, I’ve brought you some food. As I’ve said before, if you need anything, just come to me directly. I hope you’ll forgive the villagers for their ignorance."
The old man, whose head bore a tuft of hawk-like feathers, handed Steven a plate of something that, rather than resembling bread, looked more like a solid black brick.
Then, to Steven’s mild surprise, the elder offered him a sincere apology.
"Heh, don’t be so humble. If you hadn’t shown up, who knows what might have happened to me?"
Steven accepted the food, finding the village and its chief more and more intriguing.
"You jest. It is only because of your generosity that you do not hold their actions against them."
The old chief bowed his head slightly, but in his eyes, there was a fleeting flash of fear.
He had no idea what level of power the young man before him possessed.
But the scent of the Seaborn blood lingering on Steven was unmistakable—he had dealt with those creatures for many years, and his nose could not be deceived.
Did those ignorant fools not realize just what kind of being they had been trying to extort?
Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Conversation
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
"You’re exaggerating, really. I’m not some high-ranking noble. Village Chief, there’s no need for you to be so humble. Trust me, I’m a very reasonable person."
Steven smiled. He had no intention of chasing after those men and wiping out their entire families—after all, at best, they were guilty of attempted extortion. He had plenty of time to deal with them later.
But what piqued his curiosity more was the term they had mentioned—Ægir.
Now that he had an elder of obvious higher status in front of him, it would be a waste not to use this opportunity to clear up his confusion.
"I hope so," the old village chief, Pande, replied, clearly unconvinced by Steven’s words. The wariness in his eyes never faded, and after resolving the earlier matter, he immediately acted as if he had other pressing business to attend to.
"Actually, I do need something. Do you have any spare clothing? Everyday wear—both men's and women’s. I can pay extra for it."
Steven glanced down at his own outfit. It was hardly in better condition than a tattered rag.
Now that he thought about it, he’d been wearing these clothes since before he transmigrated. When he arrived in Minecraft, they had turned into the classic blocky player skin. Only now, in this world, did he finally have a chance to change them.
Honestly, for a cheap market stall outfit that had only cost a few dozen bucks, it had held up admirably.
Since he planned on getting a new outfit for Gladiia, it was only natural that he wouldn’t forget about himself.
The village chief followed Steven’s gaze and instantly understood.
"I’ll have it delivered to you shortly."
Having agreed to Steven’s request, the old man was about to turn and leave—when Steven stopped him again, still holding the plate of blackened bread.
"One more thing, Village Chief. There’s something I’d like to ask you about. Would you be willing to clear up my doubts?"
"Ask away."
"Earlier, those people mentioned that sheltering Ægir brings risks. Why is that?"
Steven didn’t bother beating around the bush. He asked the question he was most concerned about, directly and plainly.
There was no need to play guessing games—talking straight never hurt anyone.
"As an Ægir yourself, shouldn’t you already be aware of this?"
The elder turned back, scrutinizing Steven with a puzzled expression.
There were no signs of beastification on him at all. This level of pure, untainted appearance—only those peculiar Ægir possessed such characteristics.
"I’m not— Never mind. Let’s just say I don’t know."
Steven had initially wanted to clarify that he wasn’t an Ægir at all.
But considering how much effort it would take to explain himself, he decided it was easier to just go along with it.
Not like it made a difference in getting the answer he wanted.
"Alright then," Pande said. "There’s nothing too complicated about it. The Inquisition has a certain… bias against Ægirs. Many villages that have allowed Ægirs to settle have been discovered by the Inquisition. When that happens, they accuse the villagers of conspiring with the Church of the Deep—and take people away in the name of punishment."
The village chief wasn’t sure why Steven didn’t already know about this.
But he still answered truthfully.
However, when he mentioned the Inquisition, the hatred in his aged eyes was completely undisguised.
"The Inquisition? The Church of the Deep?"
Hearing two more unfamiliar terms, Steven’s curiosity only grew.
He had the distinct feeling that the deeper he dug into this, the bigger the pit he was about to fall into.
Maybe he’d even unlock some kind of hidden achievement?
After all, with Gladiia being a plot character, it wouldn’t make sense for all of this to be unrelated to the main plot.
As a transmigrator, Steven had all the time in the world to investigate these matters at his own pace—while enjoying the entertainment along the way.
"Guest… You mean to say… you don't even know about this?"
Hearing Steven mutter those two names, the village chief's expression grew even more surprised.
If Steven had only been ignorant of the previous matters, the old man might have chalked it up to the Ægir youth being inexperienced with the world. But not knowing about the Inquisition, the very embodiment of Iberia’s official authority? That wasn’t something that could be explained so easily.
"I’d love to hear the details."
Steven smiled and nodded.
The old man’s reaction only confirmed his suspicion—these names must hold great significance.
And judging by his demeanor, the village chief was likely to answer him.
"The Inquisition is a reorganized institution derived from the former Iberian Congress. While it controls this nation’s politics, it also functions like a pack of rabid dogs. They are largely responsible for why this country has fallen into its current state!"
When it came to such sensitive topics, the village chief did not attempt to lower his voice. Instead, he openly vented his resentment toward the organization.
"Ah, so they’re basically the government. Cops, right? Got it."
Steven didn’t mind the old man’s emotional outburst. He simply extracted the key information he needed and then moved on to the next question.
"And what about the Church of the Deep?"
"…"
The old village chief, who had just been passionately berating the Inquisition, suddenly fell silent.
"According to the Inquisition, it’s just a cult. Beyond that… it’s difficult to say."
When the topic shifted to the Church of the Deep, the man who had been unafraid to openly curse a state institution now hesitated. He was suddenly evasive.
"I see. Well, I appreciate the explanation, Village Chief."
Since the old man was unwilling to speak further, Steven saw no point in pressing the matter.
From the start, the elder’s attitude toward him had been almost too kind. Even if Steven wanted to force an answer out of him, he wasn’t the type to bully an old man just for information.
"No need to thank me. These are things you had every right to know. You’ve also paid an appropriate price for them."
The village chief maintained his respectful demeanor.
His composed politeness made it hard to believe he was just an elder from a poor, remote coastal village.
They say troubled lands breed troubled people.
Steven had assumed most villagers here would be like the thugs from earlier—crude and greedy.
But the village chief? He was something else entirely.
"Alright then, I have just one final question. Please answer this one truthfully."
"Oh?"
"Why did you tell me all this?"
Steven leaned against the doorframe, eyes locked onto the elder’s slightly clouded gaze.
"And—if you know that taking us in is a risk, then why do it at all?"
A long silence followed.
Then the village chief let out a sigh and answered with the most reasonable response.
"…Couldn’t it just be for money?"
"Of course it could."
Steven grinned.
"After all, money can solve most problems, right?"
He turned and walked back into his room, seemingly satisfied with the answer.
As he listened to the sound of the old man leaving, Steven’s smile grew even brighter.
Now this is getting interesting.
This is the kind of experience a world should offer.
Not just endlessly fighting blocky zombies or reskinned modded creatures.
He recalled how most villagers had [Church of the Deep Follower] floating above their heads.
Coming to this village?
Quite possibly the best decision he had made yet.
After all—mindlessly fighting and killing things was nothing compared to getting personally involved in the fun.
Chapter 10: Chapter 10: A Huge Profit
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
The moment Steven stepped back into his room, the smile on his face froze.
It wasn’t because something unexpected had happened—no, it was because he had absentmindedly taken a bite of the black bread the village chief had given him.
And nearly broke his teeth in the process.
Calling this thing a brick would be an insult to bricks.
In all his years, the only bread he’d heard of being this hard was the infamous French baguette—often joked about as a military weapon. But now, he had finally encountered something that put even that legend to shame.
Taking out his Sharpness V Netherite Sword, Steven sliced off a small corner of the bread and finally understood just how poor this village really was.
Looking at the cut surface, it was clear—this wasn’t just the classic case of mixing wheat flour with bran. This thing was basically a block of sawdust with a sprinkle of bran for flavor.
It was hard to imagine that the villagers survived on something like this day after day.
He popped the small piece into his mouth, carefully chewing.
Aside from the fact that it scratched the inside of his mouth, the taste wasn’t too awful.
At least it was better than the rotten flesh he’d eaten before.
Steven had a strict rule—never waste food. It was a personal habit and a form of respect for resources.
However, that didn’t mean he planned to finish the rest of it.
Perhaps the villagers outside would appreciate a free meal instead.
Of course, he would never feed this stuff to Gladiia.
Bullying a fool brings bad karma.
Just as Steven was thinking about her, the very same girl—who had been lying quietly in bed—suddenly sat upright.
Their gazes met.
For a moment, Steven thought she had remembered something.
But seeing her dull, unfocused eyes, he quickly ruled out that possibility.
Then what was she—?
Before he could finish his thought, Gladiia suddenly spit out a mouthful of blood.
Caught off guard, Steven felt the warm liquid splatter all over his face and clothes.
He looked down at his now blood-soaked outfit and sighed in resignation.
Well, there goes this set of clothes. Officially retired.
But he was far more concerned about the girl herself.
With that pale complexion—now looking even more deathly due to the blood loss—she didn’t seem to be in a good state at all.
Could it be an internal injury from when he accidentally slammed into her earlier?
No, that didn’t make sense.
He distinctly remembered hitting her head, not her chest or abdomen.
Which meant…
She was already injured before that encounter.
That would explain why those weakling monsters had dared to chase her in the first place.
Of course, he couldn’t be sure whether his actions had worsened her condition.
Steven reached up to wipe the blood from his face—only to pause in surprise.
For some reason, the blood absorbed into his skin instantly, as if it were some kind of fast-absorbing lotion.
At least his status bar didn’t show any weird debuffs.
So, whatever.
Supporting the girl—who, upon waking, had stretched out her hands toward him like a child longing for a father’s embrace—Steven quickly assessed her condition.
And it was not looking great.
"Alright, since you called me 'Dad' once, I’ll let this slide.”
“You’re lucky you ran into me."
After rummaging through his inventory for a moment, Steven finally pulled out something that might actually help.
He flashed a grin at the girl.
"Dad?"
Gladiia, now seemingly reduced to a childlike state, weakly grasped Steven’s arm and called out to him in a soft, feeble voice. She looked just like a sick little girl.
"Yes, yes, Dad’s here. Be good and open your mouth for the medicine."
Accepting his newfound "father" role with a sigh, Steven retrieved a glowing golden apple from his inventory. He spoke to the girl in a coaxing tone, as if soothing a child, while she curled up in his embrace.
If he weren’t personally responsible for her condition, Steven wouldn’t have taken out something this precious so easily.
A golden apple was basically half a life. Even though this one wasn’t enchanted, its base value was still high enough that he usually hesitated to eat them himself.
The amnesiac girl stared at Steven, then at the shimmering golden apple in his hand. Her crimson eyes blinked in confusion.
"Alright, I overestimated your current level of comprehension."
Steven shook his head, then gently pressed the apple against her soft, pink lips—plump like a delicate jelly. He exaggeratedly mimicked a biting motion to demonstrate what she needed to do.
After watching him, Gladiia finally understood and parted her lips slightly, allowing her pearly teeth to press against the apple’s smooth surface.
Crack!
A crisp sound echoed as she instinctively recoiled, clutching her mouth. Though her gaze still carried that inexplicable closeness and trust toward Steven, there was now an unmistakable trace of grievance in her eyes—like a child who had just been tricked.
Meanwhile, Steven stared at the golden apple in his hand, now adorned with a small, delicate bite mark.
For a moment, he was speechless.
—So this thing really is made of pure gold?
Why did this world have to be so accurate in this particular detail?
As the realization hit him, Steven suddenly recalled just how many of these apples he had eaten over time. Easily in the thousands.
‘If I ever drop dead one day, it’s definitely gonna be from heavy metal poisoning…’
But right now, he had a far more pressing issue.
The girl in his arms was on the verge of collapse. He had the means to heal her, yet she physically couldn’t consume the medicine.
Steven seriously doubted that forcing her to eat the golden apple whole would work. Even if the effects kicked in, she’d probably lose half her life just trying to swallow it.
After all, in ancient times, swallowing gold was a well-known method of suicide.
"Sigh… looks like there's only one way left."
Letting out a resigned sigh, Steven gently lifted Gladiia’s delicate chin.
Her small face, framed by soft silver locks, was a masterpiece of perfection.
The more he looked at her, the more breathtaking she seemed.
"From a certain perspective, I’m actually the one making a profit here, huh? But just to be clear—I’m only doing this to save you. This is purely for medical purposes. So if you ever regain your memory, I hope you’ll be reasonable about this."
Muttering words that Gladiia was in no condition to understand, Steven took a bite of the golden apple.
Chewing swiftly, he felt a rush of warmth flood his mouth, turning into a surging heat that spread through his body.
Before the healing energy dissipated completely, he bent down—his lips pressing firmly against hers.
Through this intimate connection, he passed the remnants of the golden apple’s power into her body.
Well… if my first kiss is with a beautiful girl like this, I guess it’s not too much of a loss.
Chapter 11: Chapter 11: Can’t Think This Way
Chapter Text
The golden apple’s effects were immediate. Almost the instant Steven passed the warm energy from his mouth to Gladiia, he could feel her once-weak breathing stabilize.
However, just as he was about to pull away, the girl—who had been completely clueless about what he was doing—suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck on her own.
Before Steven could even react, a sweet fragrance overwhelmed the lingering taste of the golden apple, instantly filling his mouth.
His brain short-circuited on the spot.
He’s a pure-hearted young man who had never even held a girl's hand before he transmigrated—how could he possibly handle something like this?!
His mind went blank, overwhelmed by the perfect sensation and taste. Even when facing hordes of monsters, he had never lost focus like this. But now, for the first time in his life, he experienced what it meant to "black out."
It wasn’t until Gladiia, looking utterly satisfied, finally released her grip around his neck that Steven’s senses came rushing back to his body.
At that moment, he sat there stiffly, his expression blank, his ragged clothes draped messily over him—he looked like someone who had just been… violated.
How should he put it?
It felt too good.
For a moment, he genuinely didn’t know what to think.
So this is what it’s like to kiss a beautiful girl?
He smacked his lips, savoring the faint, indescribable sweetness that still lingered in his mouth. A small part of him wanted to… keep going.
But the moment he met Gladiia’s eyes—still pure and innocent—his mind instantly sobered up.
There was no way she did this because of his "overwhelming masculine charm."
She wasn’t in control of her actions. Her mind was still in a childlike state. This was simply an instinctive response—like a dying traveler desperately clinging to a water source to survive.
Steven shook his head violently, trying to fling out the indecent thoughts that had taken root in his mind.
If Gladiia had done this while fully conscious, then as a healthy, functional man, not going along with it would have been an insult to his own biology.
But right now…
She was still an amnesiac child.
If he couldn’t even control himself in this situation, then he might as well swap the position of his brain and his dick.
"Dad?"
Seeing Steven’s strange reaction, Gladiia tilted her head in confusion. She was still savoring the sweet, delicious liquid from his mouth—far better than any candy she had ever tasted.
Her once pale and sickly face now had a faint flush of color, and the shimmering golden aura around her confirmed that the golden apple’s effects were working.
But Steven suddenly didn’t know how to face her.
Judging by her unchanged demeanor, it was clear that the golden apple couldn’t cure memory loss.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t still be like this.
"Could you call me ‘big brother’ instead? I really don’t want to gain a whole extra generation for no reason..."
Steven sighed helplessly.
After checking her breathing and overall condition—confirming that she was no longer in that near-death state—he finally spoke, trying to negotiate with the amnesiac girl.
But Gladiia only tilted her head again, clearly not understanding what he meant.
"Dad, one more time."
Not only did Gladiia refuse to let things end there, but she even leaned in again, rubbing her soft little face against Steven’s cheek like a spoiled child who hadn’t had enough and wanted more affection from their father.
But this time, Steven wasn’t going to let her get her way.
Without hesitation, he pushed her back onto the bed and looked straight into her crimson eyes with the stern authority of a parent educating their child.
"That thing we just did—you’re not allowed to do it again. Otherwise, I won’t take care of you anymore."
Steven had no idea when she would regain her memory, nor whether she would still remember all this embarrassing history when she did. But at the very least, he had to do his part.
Feeding her the golden apple had been a necessary decision.
Continuing any further? That would just be taking advantage of her amnesia.
And as a loyal advocate of pure romance, Steven absolutely could not accept that.
Hearing the words "I won’t take care of you anymore," Gladiia finally showed a hint of panic.
Even though her mind had regressed to that of a child and she couldn’t fully understand most of what Steven was saying, the fear of abandonment was something instinctual—deeply rooted in every living being’s heart.
Her small hands clung tightly to his arm, and she looked up at him pitifully, nodding her little head.
"Seriously, why do humans have the same instinct as animals—to see the first person they lay eyes on as their closest kin?"
Having successfully preserved his second first kiss, Steven let out a wry chuckle and muttered under his breath.
Gladiia’s attachment to him was getting a little too intense.
Maybe it really was just a biological instinct, like he had guessed.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had probably lacked a father figure since childhood.
After all, the things we are deprived of the most… are often the hardest to let go of once we finally have them.
That said, there wasn’t much more he could do about it at this point.
All he could do was pray that when she did regain her memories, she wouldn’t hold too much of a grudge against him.
Although…
Recalling the way Gladiia had so effortlessly skewered that Seaborn Elite with her spear, Steven couldn’t help but swallow nervously.
No matter how he looked at it, there was no way this wouldn’t become a problem later.
Especially after what just happened between them…
But whatever.
There was no point stressing over things that hadn’t happened yet.
Might as well just focus on enjoying the present.
It’s not like he couldn't handle her if things went south.
If there was one thing Steven was confident in, it was his ability to fight.
With Gladiia’s condition temporarily under control, Steven could finally turn his attention to the real reason he came here in the first place.
This village clearly had secrets lurking beneath the surface.
And since he had no ties, no responsibilities, and no real goals in this world anyway—
Why not sit back and enjoy the show?
Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Trouble Has Arrived
Chapter Text
Before heading out to enjoy the show, Steven had one very important thing to take care of—
He needed to change his clothes.
The tattered rags he was wearing weren’t even worthy of being called cloth. And now that they were also stained with the blood Gladiia had coughed up earlier, there was even less of a reason to keep wearing them.
That said, instead of throwing them away, Steven carefully stored them in his inventory.
Even the most useless gear could serve as a keepsake, right?
Fortunately, the village elder worked fast. Just as Steven finished stripping off his ruined clothes, the old man arrived with two fresh sets—one for him and one for Gladiia.
The fabric felt rough, almost like burlap, but Steven didn’t mind in the slightest. Without hesitation, he put on the new clothes.
As long as he wasn’t walking around completely naked, it didn’t make much of a difference to him.
But as he picked up the remaining set—the one meant for women—he found himself at a bit of a loss.
Could Gladiia, with her current level of intelligence, really manage to change her clothes on her own?
And if she couldn’t, would it really be okay for him to help her?
That just felt… inappropriate.
Luckily, Steven’s concerns were unnecessary.
The moment Gladiia saw him finish dressing, she instinctively followed suit, hugging the women’s clothing close to her chest and trying to put it on by copying his movements.
"You need to take off your old clothes first."
Shaking his head, Steven turned away, unable to keep watching.
To his surprise, Gladiia actually seemed to understand his words. Without hesitation, she began removing her old outfit.
The moment he saw her starting to undress, Steven immediately averted his gaze, doing his best to ignore the sounds of rustling fabric behind him.
As long as she could manage on her own, that was all that mattered.
Otherwise… he really wouldn’t know what to do.
Only when the shuffling noises finally stopped did Steven turn back around.
Gone was the sharp, sword-like presence she had before—an aura that had made her seem like a warrior fresh out of battle.
Now, dressed in a plain, long-sleeved linen dress, she looked like nothing more than an ordinary girl from the village next door.
The moment Steven turned around, Gladiia rushed to his side and latched onto his arm, a bright smile of pure happiness spreading across her face.
Steven could more or less guess what was going through her little head.
With her current level of intelligence, she probably felt that wearing matching clothes with her family was something to be happy about.
That was the simplicity of a child’s mind.
The fewer desires one had, the easier it was to find happiness.
Accepting his role as her temporary father figure, Steven helped straighten out her sloppily worn clothes before picking up her discarded garments, which still carried traces of her warmth.
One of the perks of having an inventory was that he could store just about anything without worrying about space—whether it was the clothes she had just taken off or that strange-looking trident-like spear of hers.
No matter what it was, he could carry it with ease.
And take it out anytime he needed it.
These things all belonged to her.
When Gladiia eventually regained her memories, Steven would have to return everything to her properly.
"Dad, hungry."
Standing obediently beside Steven, Gladiia watched as he finished packing up. Then, with a shy smile, she touched her stomach and softly voiced her needs.
"Thinking about food right after waking up just… you really are like a child."
Steven covered his face and sighed in amusement before glancing at the half-eaten piece of bread nearby.
In the end, he decided against giving it to her—her stomach had been through enough already. She needed something easier to digest.
"I’ll go find some coal. I’ll roast some potatoes for you later. In the meantime, take this."
Steven pulled a carrot from his inventory and handed it to the girl beside him, ruffling her head as he did so.
It wasn’t just head pats.
That kiss earlier had netted him nearly 500 points—enough to make him waver for a moment.
If a mere kiss was worth that much… then if things progressed further, wouldn’t he be rolling in points?
But of course, Steven knew better.
It was just a fleeting thought.
He wasn’t the kind of person who’d stoop so low as to exploit her amnesia for something like that.
Some things had to be done with principle.
Glancing at a nearby mirror, Steven adjusted his clothing.
The reflection staring back at him was that of a tall, sharp-featured young man.
For some reason, it left him feeling a little emotional.
After all these years, his appearance hadn’t changed a bit.
At this point, could he even call himself human anymore?
Seeing his real face again—rather than some pixelated blocky figure—Steven couldn’t help but chuckle.
Wasn’t this a good thing?
Who cared whether he was still human?
Plenty of people chose to abandon their humanity just for a chance to live longer.
And the longer he lived, the more interesting things he got to experience.
So why waste time contemplating something as pointless as the meaning of life?
Turning away from the mirror, Steven was about to take his little burden out for a stroll—
But just as he reached for the door, it suddenly swung open from the other side.
Standing there was the one person he was most familiar with in this village—the old village chief.
Only this time, there was a grim expression on the elder’s face—one Steven had never seen before.
"Pack your things and come with me. I know a hidden path out of the village."
The old man’s voice was tense, almost urgent.
"Hah? I came here to rest, not to be kicked out this quickly."
"There’s no time to explain. The Inquisition is already at the village entrance!"
The moment those words left the old man’s lips, he grabbed Steven’s arm and tried to drag him out of the room.
And that name—Inquisition—was one that Steven had been very curious about for a while now.
"So what?"
Steven didn’t resist, allowing himself to be led in the opposite direction of the village entrance.
Gladiia followed closely behind, clinging to him like a baby duck.
Despite the old man’s apparent frailty, his grip was shockingly strong.
His fingers clamped down on Steven’s arm like an iron vice, making it slightly uncomfortable.
Even so, Steven merely smiled and continued asking questions.
"Isn’t it obvious? You’re an Ægir! If the Inquisition finds you, it’ll be big trouble!"
The old man’s voice was full of urgency—
But in the next instant, his body staggered forward as Steven suddenly stopped moving.
It was as if he had just run into an immovable mountain.
With confusion in his wrinkled eyes, the village chief followed Steven’s gaze—
Only to see a beam of light shining directly at them from ahead.
The bright glare engulfed both Steven and the old man, forcing them to squint.
‘Well now… looks like trouble has arrived.’
Shielding his eyes from the blinding light, Steven finally made out the figure standing in the middle of the road—
A small, slender girl, holding a long sword.
Holy hell, this ‘Inquisition’ group, they even recruit children as their workers?
Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Why Should I?
Chapter Text
"Hey, beauty, could you turn off your high beams? You’re about to blind me."
Raising a hand to shield his eyes, Steven called out to the girl blocking their path.
He had no idea how the thing in her hand—which looked like a medieval oil lamp—was producing a beam as blinding as a high-powered flashlight.
But then again, considering that his torch was practically nuclear-powered, Steven decided not to comment.
The light itself didn’t harm him—it was just annoying.
The village chief beside him, however, was another story.
Bathed in the harsh glow, the old man looked uncomfortable—almost like a vampire being exposed to sunlight.
"The High Inquisitor was right. The people in this village are far too eager to welcome the Inquisition… They must be hiding something."
The silver-haired girl standing in the middle of the road did not lower her lantern as Steven had asked.
Instead, she murmured to herself, as if confirming some suspicion.
Her outfit was a mix between a formal coat and a military-style uniform, emphasizing her rather petite frame.
Beneath her long white hair, a deep scar marred the left side of her otherwise delicate face—completely ruining any sense of beauty she might have had.
Had it just been her appearance, Steven might’ve written her off as just another strangely dressed kid.
But the unsheathed silver rapier in her hand, along with the massive pistol holstered at her waist, made it very clear—
This girl wasn’t someone to be underestimated.
"What exactly are you planning? What kind of conspiracy is this?"
Her tone was firm, leaving no room for argument as she stepped forward, lantern in hand.
Before Steven could remind her that shining a light in someone's face while talking to them was extremely rude—
The village chief beside him suddenly snapped.
"Damn you, Inquisition! You’re here to take more people from our village again, aren’t you?! You bastards! Murderers with no sense of justice!"
His enraged shout rang through the night.
And as if on cue, doors and windows burst open.
A swarm of villagers charged out, wielding anything they could find—hoes, shovels, pitchforks—
All of them rushing straight at the girl.
Thanks to the sudden crowd, the blinding light was finally blocked.
Steven’s eyes could finally relax.
"Okay… so what exactly is happening right now?"
His curiosity far outweighed his brief discomfort.
It was one thing for the Inquisition to suddenly appear in this remote village, but why was the village chief organizing the villagers to fight on his behalf?
There was no way three gold nuggets had bought this level of loyalty.
"Come on! We have to go! The Inquisition won’t spare Ægirs like you! If you want to live, follow me!"
The old man’s explanation was quick and urgent.
"That girl’s equipment isn’t something an ordinary Inquisition Inquisitor would have. The villagers won’t be able to hold her off for long!"
From the direction of the chaos, the villagers’ agonized screams rang out.
There was definitely a sense of pressure building in the air.
But, to the old man’s shock, Steven didn’t move.
Not one step.
"But I’m not an Ægir."
His voice was light, casual—completely unbothered by the unfolding situation.
"So why should I be afraid?"
He tilted his head slightly, flashing an easy-going smile.
"They’re an official organization, right? They have to follow some kind of rules."
He stretched lazily.
"And besides, if I run now, won’t that just make me look guilty?"
Steven carefully analyzed the situation, then made a decision that completely stunned the old man.
He walked toward the besieged girl and even waved at her in greeting.
"Hey there, you’re with the Inquisition, right? Are you here to arrest the Ægirs?"
With a single sentence, he cut right to the heart of the matter.
"Hah? Ægirs?"
The girl, who had been fending off the villagers, furrowed her brows.
If she hadn’t been worried about harming innocent civilians, she would’ve already broken through the encirclement.
Steven’s question caught her off guard.
What kind of suspect walks right up to an Inquisitor and asks questions?
But because of this unexpected turn, she finally noticed Steven and the girl standing beside him—
Both of whom belonged to the very race that the Inquisition had repeatedly warned her to pay special attention to.
"If you have committed no crimes, why would the Inquisition arrest you? As long as you have not violated any laws, being an Ægir means nothing."
Despite her confusion over Steven’s bizarre behavior, the girl still answered him righteously.
Steven nodded in satisfaction.
"See? She said they don’t just arrest people for no reason."
Turning back, he seriously explained this to the utterly dumbfounded village chief.
Then, he grabbed Gladiia’s hand—who had been silently observing everything with great curiosity, and showed no intention of running.
"You actually believe an Inquisition Inquisitor’s lies?! The Inquisition takes people away and tortures them! Do you know that almost no one ever comes back alive?!"
The village chief shouted furiously.
He could not comprehend what was going through this young man’s head.
Any normal person would have already run for their life, but this kid?
He looked like he was out on a leisurely stroll.
At this rate, everything was going to fall apart!
"Uh, I never said I believed her."
Steven scratched his head, looking a little sheepish.
"It’s just… well."
"I don’t believe you either."
His words were casual, but his eyes flickered with amusement.
"You act like we’re old friends, but I only just met you today. I’ve never spoken to you before."
"So why should I not trust what she says, but somehow believe you and just run away?"
"You say the Inquisition is bad, but how do I know you’re not the one trying to manipulate me?"
His expression was full of exaggerated confusion.
But behind it, there was a clear sense of mischief.
"How about this?"
"You two fight it out—whoever wins, I’ll listen to them. Sounds fair, right?"
Steven cheerfully pulled Gladiia to the side, stepping away like a judge giving the stage to two opposing lawyers.
Meanwhile, the silver-haired girl had just finished dealing with the last of the villagers.
Without even looking at Steven, she raised her lantern and continued walking forward.
"I have recorded your slander against the Inquisition."
Her voice was calm—but there was an undeniable weight to her words.
Then, she raised her rapier and pointed it directly at the now frozen old man.
"Now then…"
"Elder, would you be so kind as to cooperate with our investigation?"
Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Rejecting Moral Blackmail Starts With Me
Chapter Text
"Do you even understand what you’ve done?!"
"Do you know how many innocent people will be taken away by the Inquisition because of your decision?!"
The village chief ignored the silver-haired girl’s warning.
Instead, he turned his gaze—burning with hatred—toward Steven, lashing out at him.
This entire disaster had started because of him, yet here he was, standing off to the side, acting like a mere spectator?!
Perhaps it was Steven’s mocking attitude that enraged him.
Or maybe it was the fact that his carefully laid plans had just crumbled in an instant.
Either way, at this moment, the old man hated Steven even more than the Inquisition girl beside him.
But Steven did not care.
"The way you’re talking… it’s like I was supposed to listen to you."
His tone was mockingly casual.
"Whether I get caught or not is my business."
"And if other people get dragged into this— isn’t that because you all did something shady in the first place?"
Then, his lips curled into a sneer.
"Or what—were you hoping I’d feel guilty?"
"That you could emotionally blackmail me?"
His voice dripped with amusement, but his eyes were ice-cold.
If what the village chief said was true, then his arrest would indeed lead to a full-scale investigation of the village, which would, inevitably, result in many people being taken away.
But here’s the thing, even if he wasn’t here, it’s not like this village was innocent to begin with.
What, were they going to pretend the whole Church of the Deep situation didn’t exist?
Emotional blackmail only worked on people who cared.
And when it came to cults, Steven couldn’t care less.
"Save your breath."
"The more you talk, the more suspicious you seem."
He smirked.
"Maybe you should take a page from our little Inquisition friend over there and try proving yourself with actions instead."
With a grin, Steven turned to the petite silver-haired girl, then casually gestured toward the village chief.
"Hey, you know what?"
"I’ve always had a bad feeling about that old Biden geezer."
"I think I’d like to switch sides—sign me up as a witness against him!"
His words were downright incendiary, making the village chief shake with rage.
Meanwhile, the Inquisition girl—who had initially been listening to gather useful information, was now staring at Steven with visible confusion.
What the hell was wrong with this Ægir?!
She could understand not panicking, after all, the Inquisition wasn’t some cruel, unreasonable force.
But this guy?
He wasn’t just calm.
He was actively egging people on!
He really didn’t fear the Inquisition at all?
"What are you looking at me for?"
Steven shrugged.
Then, with a completely serious expression—
"Go cut him down."
"He’s obviously stalling for time—who knows when he’ll try to run?"
And just like that, his joke turned into reality.
The moment the Inquisition girl glanced at Steven, the "grief-stricken" old man bolted.
Despite his walking stick and apparent frailty, he moved like a dog that had just seen a ghost.
And as if on cue, another group of villagers poured out from the surrounding houses, forming a human wall to block the girl’s pursuit.
"See?"
Steven grinned.
"Told you he’d run."
"Would you shut up already?!"
For the first time, the Inquisition girl snapped at him.
Her patience finally ran out.
"You are still a suspect, you know! Keep talking and I’ll have to take some special measures against you!"
With that, she turned away from Steven and once again, raised her weapon.
This time, pointing it at the new group of villagers blocking her path.
She wasn’t foolish enough to let the village chief escape just because of a few sarcastic remarks from Steven.
Letting him go had been intentional—a chance to see if he would lead them to someone else.
But that didn’t mean she had the patience to tolerate Steven’s endless fire-stoking comments.
Her anger?
Yeah, it was very real.
How could someone’s mouth be this insufferable?
Had he been locked up in solitary confinement for centuries or something?!
"You can’t seriously be this talkative—"
"Does the Inquisition punish people just for speaking?"
Steven gave her an innocent shrug.
Sure, he was willing to be taken in, but that didn’t mean he had to obediently follow all of her orders.
"Would you die if you shut up for one second?!"
The white-haired girl clenched her weapon so tightly that she nearly crushed the handle.
She had been knocking out villagers with just enough restraint to keep them alive, but Steven’s constant chatter was making her seriously reconsider her self-control.
"Nope," Steven grinned.
"I’d go insane otherwise."
And he looked completely unapologetic about it.
But then, in the blink of an eye, his playful grin vanished.
A long sword appeared in his hand and without hesitation, he slashed behind him.
Blood spurted into the air.
A pair of severed hands fell to the ground, still twitching.
A wretched scream tore through the night.
A dark figure stumbled out of the shadows, revealing the village chief.
The same village chief who was supposed to have already fled.
Even Steven was caught off guard for a moment, but then, realization dawned.
And it all clicked into place.
"So that’s why you wanted me to run."
His voice was eerily calm.
"It wasn’t to protect the village from the Inquisition’s investigation—"
"It was for her, wasn’t it?"
His grip on the sword tightened.
"Let me guess."
"The real answer to the question I asked you earlier… was also about her, wasn’t it?"
He flicked his sword, and the remaining blood splattered onto the ground.
His expression had lost all traces of amusement.
If they had been targeting Gladiia from the start, then everything else suddenly made sense.
Them being suspiciously willing to host two Ægirs—
The subtle manipulations to make the village seem safe—
The conveniently timed bits of "accidental" information that built trust—
The deliberate attempts to make him distrust the Inquisition—
It had all been a carefully crafted setup.
Not to trap him.
But to lull him into letting down his guard, so they could get to Gladiia.
Too bad for them, they had picked the wrong target.
Steven hadn’t been smart enough to see through their tricks, but he didn’t need to be.
Because while he had missed the village chief sneaking up, he hadn’t missed the slow-moving red dot in the upper right corner of his field of vision.
Chapter 15: Chapter 15: She's Much More Likeable Than You
Chapter Text
When watching others fight, Steven always enjoyed laughing and joking around. But when it came to an actual battle, he had no interest in talking trash.
Any victory speech could wait until the fight was over—during a battle, the only thing that mattered was fighting. Talking wouldn’t add extra damage, after all.
So, after drawing his sword and slicing off the arm of the old village chief who had tried to sneak up on him, Steven barely hesitated before swinging his Netherite Sword again.
He didn’t give the old man any time to react. Even the female Inquisitor couldn’t clearly see how Steven had moved. A flash of sword light shimmered coldly in the air, and in the next moment, the old man collapsed onto the ground.
Both his legs had been severed at the knees. Perhaps because the cut had been too fast, he only let out a muffled groan of pain after he had already hit the ground, as if his body had just caught up with what had happened.
In just a brief exchange, the old man—who had been fine moments ago—had been reduced to a limbless stump by Steven.
But could Steven really be blamed for this? If the old man had chosen someone else to attack, maybe things wouldn’t have ended this way. But he had to go after Gladiia, who was standing right next to Steven.
“If you had come at me instead, I might’ve just laughed it off as a bit of entertainment. But targeting an amnesiac girl? Do you even have any shame?”
After making sure the old man was no longer a threat, Steven’s grin returned as he crouched beside him.
His cuts were precise—just enough to ensure the old man wouldn’t die from blood loss right away.
Like Steven had said, he didn’t mind being attacked himself. But he couldn’t tolerate anyone targeting the people around him.
After all, he knew his own strength, but he couldn’t always be sure if those beside him could handle such threats.
So before anything else, he had to eliminate this danger as soon as possible.
“Hey, little one over there! Can you handle those troublemakers? If you can’t, why don’t you draw your sword? You won’t always solve things with a scabbard, you know. They’re taking advantage of your kindness. As a law enforcer, sometimes the only way to protect more people is to be tougher.”
Steven called out to the young girl still caught up with a group of villagers who were preventing her from breaking free.
Seeing that the second wave of villagers was even weaker and more pitiful than the last, he couldn’t help but sigh.
From the very beginning, the girl had hesitated to draw her sword against the villagers, exposing her weakness. That was precisely why, when the village chief called for another group to block her, he had chosen nothing more than a bunch of sickly and frail villagers.
The softer someone’s heart was, the harder it would be for them to strike down the elderly and the weak.
That old man might have been useless in a fight, but he certainly knew how to manipulate people.
No wonder he had dared to turn back in the chaos.
The only thing he hadn’t accounted for was that he was far stronger than he had imagined.
“I don’t need someone like you telling me what to do. Just take care of yourself, Ægir.”
Although she was briefly shocked by Steven’s sudden sword strike, the young girl quickly recovered, snorting in defiance before once again raising her lantern high, forcefully suppressing the approaching villagers.
Perhaps Steven had a point, but she had her own beliefs to uphold.
“Quite the principled one, huh? I like that. She’s much more likeable than you. If only you were more like her, we wouldn’t be in this mess, would we?”
Shaking his head as he watched the girl, Steven then turned his attention back to the old man, who was gritting his teeth to keep himself from screaming in pain.
"You lapdog of the Inquisition."
The old man spat out the curse through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with hatred as he glared at Steven.
"Oh? Wasn't this just between us? Why are you suddenly trying to put a label on me?" Steven still looked as calm as ever, even taking the time to carefully go over the sequence of events. "I don’t know what kind of love-hate relationship you have with the Inquisition, but the reason you're in this situation right now is because you tried to attack my friend. Can you at least get your priorities straight?"
He shrugged, unfazed by the old man's fury.
"I told you before—you two fight it out, and I'll believe whoever wins. But you were the one who ran away, and now you’re turning around to curse at me?"
His words completely shut the old man up, leaving him with nothing to refute.
"And one more thing—between the two of us, aren't you the real lapdog here? The village chief who betrayed humanity and sided with the Seaborn... Mr. Pande?"
Steven’s smile widened as he read the title floating above the old man's head: [Fanatical Devotee of the Deep Sea: Pande].
That was why Steven had only been here to watch the fun. He had never believed a single word the old man had said from the beginning.
After all, his title had already given him away, and Steven wasn’t blind.
"..."
"You don’t understand a thing! What's wrong with working with them if it means survival? No, they are our kin—while you, the Inquisition, you're the real monsters, the ones devouring us from the land!"
After a brief silence, the old man roared in fury.
He didn’t know how Steven had figured out his identity, but at this point, there was no hope of escape. He might as well lay everything out in the open.
Were those creatures from the deep sea truly monsters? If not for them, this village would have perished long ago.
Where was the Inquisition when they were suffering in poverty? Where were they when the villagers were starving?
It was the Seaborns who brought them food, who gave them the chance to survive. And yet, the Inquisition wanted to take away even that last shred of hope. How could the villagers not hate them?
But Steven didn’t care.
Even if he did know, he’d probably just shrug and move on. He certainly wouldn’t sympathize with them.
The only thing that mattered to him was that these villagers had tried to lay a hand on someone by his side. That was the only thing relevant to him.
"You heard that, didn’t you? He just admitted to betraying humanity. I have nothing to do with him."
Even after hearing the old man’s outburst, Steven’s expression remained unchanged. He simply turned to the approaching young Inquisitor, who had just finished dealing with the other villagers, and offered a casual explanation.
"I’ll leave him to you for judgment. But before that, I have one last question."
Standing up, Steven nudged the old man’s severed leg with his foot, showing absolutely no respect for his elder.
"What exactly made you so determined to go after my da—uh, companion? I’m really curious. Is she really that special?"
Chapter 16: Chapter 16: The Big One Is Coming
Chapter Text
Steven was very curious, whether it was the monsters called Seaborns crawling out of the ocean or the followers of the so-called Church of the Deep, which actually had nothing to do with him, they all seemed very interested in Gladiia.
Sure, this girl is good-looking, but Steven doesn't think the reason is that simple.
He looks pretty handsome too. Why aren't any monsters attacking him?
There must be some hidden information in all this, probably related to Gladiia's title of Abyssal Hunter.
"Haha, do you think I'll tell you? Don't think everything is fine just because you defeated me. The Church of the Deep won't let you go, you despicable Aegir monster. Get ready for endless retaliation from my compatriots."
Giving Steven a fierce look, the elderly village chief dropped a classic harsh remark.
"Well, if I kill him, would you mind? Not answering questions properly is one thing, but he even personally attacked me. Such people simply don't deserve to live, right?"
Steven smirked, wiped the purple-black long sword in his hand, and asked the lantern girl beside him.
"Of course not! He's now a prisoner of the Inquisition, and you too. Put away your weapon!"
With a wary look, she walked to Steven's side, glanced down at the old man who had lost the ability to resist, and then the girl with hair resembling a cute sparrow, with a few feathers mixed in, rolled her eyes at Steven.
His combat power could be seen from the sword earlier, definitely not an easy opponent, and even the girl herself wasn't confident about taking on Steven's astounding sword.
Yet, this guy could accept the Inquisition's investigation calmly and even ask for the opinion of this Inquisitor about the one who attacked him.
One might think he's a law-abiding citizen who came out of somewhere.
But out of the Inquisitor's instinct, the girl couldn't relax her vigilance towards Steven. The more unpredictable his behavior, the more dangerous he might be.
Fortunately, Steven cooperated well.
After hearing the girl's request, he obediently put away the Netherite Sword in his hand, walked to Gladiia's side, and patted her head to comfort the startled amnesiac girl.
If they didn't let him, they didn't let him. Anyway, he had guessed most of what he wanted to know.
Steven was willing to abide by local rules, and his first impression of this little Inquisitor was not bad, so he had no reason to argue with her.
It's just asking him to put away his weapon, not putting a cuff on him.
Seeing Steven cooperate so honestly, the girl squatted down and carefully checked the injuries of the fallen old man.
Steven's sword skills were superb, and coupled with the fact that this old man seemed to have undergone some kind of mutation in his body, even though both his hands and feet were severed, there were no signs of death due to excessive blood loss.
On the contrary, as soon as the girl approached him, the old man's eyes became vicious, as if he wanted to devour her flesh and blood.
"I don't know why you hold such great malice towards the Inquisition, but that doesn't mean you can do something against the laws of Iberia. Colluding with the Church of the Deep is an undeniable crime."
Not shaken by the old man's hateful gaze, the girl spoke about the sins of the other party as if she had long been accustomed to such looks.
"So, you and this village will both undergo the Inquisition's investigation."
"Hahaha, you hypocrites. If you want to silence us, just do it. There is no need to give me some justice-like excuse, saying that all of this is for Iberia.”
The old man snorted, his eyes full of mockery.
"Do you think you've won? You'll perish along with this village. They're coming soon!"
Perhaps due to hallucinations from excessive bleeding, or sensing something, the old man's eyes suddenly became somewhat crazy, and he started muttering words that couldn't be understood.
The girl, frowning, looked at the old man who was no longer making sense and then shifted her gaze to Steven, who was watching the scene with interest.
"Hey, the Ægir over there, do you know what he's talking about?"
"Firstly, don't call me 'hey,' call me Steven— Secondly, I'm not an Ægir. Finally, I don't know this guy, so why ask me?"
Pointing out three mistakes in the girl's short sentence, Steven shrugged, wearing an expression that said, "Who knows?"
"But one thing I figured out from what he said is that something big is coming?"
Rubbing his chin, he presented his view. At least in movies and manga that Steven had seen, when the antagonists uttered such words, it usually heralded the appearance of the next big boss.
"Big?"
"How should I know what 'big' means? Maybe it's people from the Church of the Deep? Or maybe something else strange."
Looking at the girl with a head full of question marks, Steven noticed that although she appeared serious, sometimes she would show a cute side typical of her age, especially in moments like now when she was unintentionally tilting her head, waiting for an explanation.
"He's right; something is indeed coming."
A middle-aged man's voice interrupted their conversation from behind the girl.
This man, wearing a uniform similar to the girl's, walked out from behind her.
However, unlike the girl, who revealed her delicate face, the man not only wore a deep green hunter's hat but also had a strange mask on his face, making it impossible to see his features.
But his appearance immediately brought joy to the Inquisitor girl, as if she had found her backbone, and she shouted towards him.
"Commander, are you okay?"
"Nothing much, dealing with those Church of the Deep followers hiding among the villagers isn't enough to trouble me. However, the ocean is restless. I've detected traces of Sea Terror near the village entrance."
Nodding towards the girl, the man she called the commander looked down at the old man who had lost combat capability and then turned his gaze to Steven.
Their eyes met briefly, but he felt a sense of oppression emanating from Steven. This feeling didn't come from the five senses but more from intuition.
He had seen many ruthless murderers, but someone like Steven, whose whole being exuded a smell of blood, as if surrounded by the killing intent of having slaughtered an entire world, didn't seem like someone who could exist in this world.
Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Am I the Big One?
Chapter Text
"Who are you?"
Even though he had already considered countless possibilities in his mind, the man addressed as "Sir" by the young female Inquisitor still chose to ask directly, looking toward Steven for an answer.
Steven, who had been absentmindedly rubbing Gladiia’s little head, finally paused his actions. With interest, he met the gaze of the masked man.
To be honest, this guy’s outfit was pretty cool—so cool that Steven felt like he wanted to collect a set for himself.
But more importantly, as he noticed the deep wariness in the man’s eyes, Steven scratched his head, puzzled about what he had done to deserve such scrutiny.
Why was this guy looking at him as if he were some kind of wild beast?
"Sir, these two Ægirs originally wanted to escape with the village chief, who had ties to the Church of the Deep. However, when they saw me, they voluntarily... surrendered."
Even though she knew how absurd this sounded, the young girl still reported the truth to her superior.
"He didn’t resist at all. In fact, even this guy was subdued by his own hand. Based on my judgment, I don’t think he’s one of the villagers."
She pointed to the old man beside them, who had already lost too much blood due to his extreme agitation and had fallen into a coma. The girl made her assessment with a serious expression.
Although this guy, who called himself Steve, had been acting in a completely unpredictable manner, there was one thing she was certain of:
From beginning to end, he had never shown hostility toward her.
Even when the village chief initially tried to mislead him, he had only maintained a neutral stance and never intended to fight her.
She was quite confident in her judgment.
"That’s good. Once an Inquisitor makes a judgment, they must stand by it and not waver due to external influences."
The masked man nodded, seemingly approving of the young girl's assessment. The wariness in his eyes toward Steven lessened slightly.
It was clear that he trusted his subordinate deeply—so much so that he believed Steven wasn’t an enemy just based on her words alone.
Suddenly, Steven started suspecting that their relationship wasn’t just that of superior and subordinate. Judging from the feathers sticking out of the man’s hair, could it be… these two were father and daughter?
Was the father bringing his daughter out on missions to gain experience?
As Steven playfully entertained this thought, the man walked straight toward him.
After glancing briefly at Gladiia, who was clearly not in a normal state, the man turned his attention back to Steven.
"Hello, I am Dario, a High Inquisitor from the Inquisition. That young lady over there is my subordinate, Inquisitor Irene."
Just as Steven thought this man would issue some harsh warning or even arrest him on the spot, Dario simply extended his hand in greeting and introduced both himself and the uniformed girl.
The situation suddenly shifted from a police officer apprehending a dangerous suspect to a casual self-introduction between new acquaintances.
"Uh... Hello, I’m Steven. Not an Ægir."
Since the other party had introduced himself so politely, Steven naturally felt obliged to respond in kind. He had always been willing to be friendly with people who treated him with respect.
Shaking hands with Dario, Steven deliberately emphasized his species.
Call him a Minecrafter if they must, but he was definitely not an Ægir.
What if racial discrimination was a big issue in this world? He didn’t want to be burdened with an unjust label right from the start.
So, it was best to clarify these things upfront whenever possible.
"You just called yourself Steve a moment ago, didn't you? How dare you deceive an Inquisitor!"
Before the man could respond, the young female Inquisitor named Irene couldn't hold back any longer. She jumped in, pointing her slender finger at Steven.
She clearly remembered that this guy had introduced himself as Steve earlier. How had he suddenly acquired another name in just a few minutes?
"A name is just a codename. I can be Steve, or I can be Steven. Does that really matter? Besides, compared to your attitude, I obviously prefer speaking with this more mature, friendly, and reasonable gentleman in front of me."
"You—!"
"Simply put, your superior knows that before asking for my name, he should introduce himself first. You, on the other hand, were just calling out ‘hey, hey’ earlier. So, what's wrong with me throwing out a codename to mess with you?"
Steven rattled off a bunch of justifications that even he didn't quite believe. Then, seeing Irene’s face change with frustration, he chuckled and revealed the real reason.
The Liberi girl was completely speechless. She clenched her fists—if it weren’t for her identity as an Inquisitor, she would have already punched this irritating guy.
How could someone be this insufferable?
Fortunately, the High Inquisitor beside her seemed to read her thoughts. He patted her on the shoulder in reassurance before decisively moving past the awkward topic.
"Mr. Steven, given the ambiguity of your relationship with this village chief, some conflicts have arisen between us. Would you be willing to come with us to the Inquisition for a discussion?"
The way Dario spoke didn’t sound like someone trying to arrest a suspect. His tone was more like an invitation between acquaintances.
However, only Dario himself knew the truth—this seemingly carefree young man standing before him radiated an overwhelming pressure.
Even compared to his own mentor, Carmen, one of Iberia’s Twelve Saints, Steven’s presence was on a completely different level.
It didn’t even matter if Steven insisted he wasn’t human. Even if he turned out to be one of those unspeakable horrors from the deep sea, Dario would believe it without question.
To put it in Steven’s own words—he was the real danger in Dario’s eyes.
Perhaps the only reassuring thing was that Steven seemed incredibly rational and, surprisingly, easy to talk to. That was the primary reason for Dario’s current approach.
The Inquisition’s duty was not to provoke mysterious beings whose very existence was an enigma.
"I don’t really mind. It’s all the same to me wherever I go. But clearly, now isn’t the time to be thinking about that, is it? Shouldn't we be figuring out how to break through instead?"
Steven smiled. He was actually quite interested in visiting the Inquisition, a place the old man had described as a terrifying death trap.
And as an official organization of this nation, they might even be able to provide some information about that Rho-something Island he was looking for.
But as he said—those were concerns for later.
Right now, the real issue was figuring out how to break through the swarm of strange creatures that had suddenly emerged from all directions in the village.
Chapter 18: Chapter 18: A Hot Commodity, in Every Sense
Chapter Text
At some point, the small village had become packed with bizarre-looking monsters.
They crowded together, cutting off all escape routes, and some had even climbed onto the rooftops.
The constant rustling and squirming noises filled the air, emphasizing just how massive their numbers were.
Steven, however, wasn’t unfamiliar with these creatures.
Though they looked somewhat different from the ones he had encountered before, they were still hideous enough for him to lump them all into the same category.
At least the previous ones were some sort of hybrid between fish and octopuses. But these? What the hell were these supposed to be? Kinder Surprise eggs?
The sheer number of them was absurd, enough to make Steven click his tongue in disbelief.
Staring at the dark, surging tide of monsters that looked like an ocean made entirely of grotesque creatures, Steven couldn’t help but compare it to the time he played with both the "Zombie Awareness" and "Monster Siege" mods enabled at the same time.
Oh, and of course, the last few days of 7 Days to Die’s 100-day nightmare mode didn’t count. Compared to that, this was just a small skirmish.
“How the hell are they even moving on land with those fins? They’re clearly made for swimming.”
Even in this situation, Steven couldn’t resist voicing his complaints.
He could accept a lot of things, but these deep-sea monsters forcing their way onto land and hopping around like deranged fish out of water was just too much.
The ones with octopus-like tentacles could at least slither forward, but the ones whose lower halves were literally just fish tails? Watching them flail and bounce around like that—it was hard not to lose it.
“Do you really think this is the time to be worrying about that?”
Irene, the inquisitor, had a grave expression as she observed the creatures that had completely blocked their escape.
This was the first time she had seen such an eerie sight.
Normally, these Sea Terror would remain hidden, never appearing in such overwhelming numbers. This was highly unusual.
More importantly, judging by their movements, they had clearly gathered here for a specific reason.
Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense for them to have surrounded the group just as her superior had warned her to be on guard.
She had already searched this village thoroughly.
While there were indeed signs of connections to the Church of the Deep, it shouldn’t have been to this extent.
If the Church of the Deep had this kind of power, they would have taken control of Iberia long ago, instead of being held in check by the Inquisition.
A quick analysis led to an obvious conclusion: these Sea Terror had gathered with a specific goal in mind.
That goal was either the village chief, who lay powerless at their feet, or the boy beside her—the one who was still chattering away without the slightest trace of fear—or perhaps the white-haired girl standing by his side.
Though both she and her superior held considerable authority, there was no reason for them to be singled out like this.
“So what? Am I supposed to hide behind you, crying ‘save me, save me’ while clinging to your coat?”
Steven shrugged. The sheer number of monsters was terrifying. Unless he enabled additional game mods, he had absolutely no intention of fighting them head-on.
Even if they were just pigs, if you had ten thousand of them standing still while you hacked away, you’d still get exhausted before you finished. Let alone these monsters—not only were they ugly, but they also packed quite a punch.
And most importantly, they didn’t look like they’d drop anything good.
They were obviously just disposable cannon fodder.
The High Inquisitor raised his lantern high, and the light emanating from it made the creatures at the front hesitate, halting their advance.
However, with the relentless press of the ones behind them, it was only a matter of time before the frontline was breached.
“We need to find a way to break through.”
Making the most rational decision for the moment, Dario turned to Irene and laid out his plan.
“Take Mr. Steven and his companion through the back. I’ll cover you.”
These Sea Terror weren’t particularly strong individually—their only real threat came from their sheer numbers.
For either him or Irene, wiping them out completely wasn’t realistic, but breaking through their encirclement wasn’t a difficult task.
What surprised Dario, however, was that the petite Liberi girl didn’t immediately follow his orders as she usually would.
“Sir, what about the villagers?”
Irene’s gaze swept over the streets, which were packed with monstrous figures.
While the creatures hadn’t yet shown any intention of attacking the villagers hiding behind locked doors, she couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t turn on them once their initial targets were gone.
Most of the villagers here were likely involved with the Church of the Deep. However, as long as even a single innocent Iberian citizen remained, she believed it was her duty as an Inquisitor to protect them.
“You know most of them are guilty.”
Dario paused for a moment, not pressing his command further, but instead stating a simple truth.
“Until they have been judged by the Inquisition, no one can say with certainty that none among them are innocent. An Inquisitor’s duty is to ensure justice for every citizen of Iberia. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it?”
Irene raised the lantern at her waist, her delicate yet resolute face set with determination.
“…”
“Sticking to your principles is admirable. All the more reason for you to take them and leave.”
After a brief silence, Dario’s gaze softened slightly beneath his mask, revealing a trace of approval.
“That’s exactly right. Have you still not realized? These monsters are clearly after me and my companion. If we leave, most of them will be drawn away.”
Steven, who had been standing beside the High Inquisitor while eyeing his lantern’s intricate design, casually chimed in.
He had a strong suspicion that the Inquisitor had already figured this out but was deliberately testing the young girl.
In other words, this was just another lesson in teaching the next generation.
And judging by the results, the method seemed to be working quite well.
As for the Sea Terror’s real target, there was no doubt in Steven’s mind.
Some things could be faked, but the raw, hungry desire in their grotesque eyes was unmistakable.
From the moment they appeared, Steven had already guessed that their goal was the amnesiac girl standing beside him—Gladiia.
Honestly, she really was quite the hot commodity.
He hadn’t even known her for that long, and already, three different groups had taken an interest in her.
“Alright, let’s get moving. For the sake of the Iberian citizens you’re so determined to protect, and for the safety of our esteemed High Inquisitor here, we should probably lure these things somewhere more open and uninhabited, don’t you think?”
He sighed in exasperation, urging the stubborn little bird to hurry up.
Steven was still hoping to see if he could draw out an elite or even a boss from behind these creatures.
Fighting in this cramped village wasn’t exactly ideal—he needed more space to cut loose properly.
Chapter 19: Chapter 19: Is This Really an Eight-Year-Old?
Chapter Text
Just as Steven had said, after Irene understood the significance of his words and led him and Gladiia out of the village, the swarm of black, menacing Sea Terror immediately changed direction and began chasing after them.
Along the way, Steven was almost excessively well-behaved, which made Irene, who was leading the way, even more suspicious.
If it were any other criminal, wouldn’t this chaotic situation be the perfect opportunity to escape? Yet, he acted as if he didn’t care at all.
From the way Steven looked, he didn’t seem like a fugitive being dragged along in an escape—if anything, he looked more like a wealthy young master out for a leisurely stroll.
Irene was starting to feel like she wasn’t an Inquisitor escorting a prisoner, but more like a free bodyguard ensuring his safety.
"Have you stared enough? We’re not out of danger yet. Can you at least take this seriously for a moment?"
Annoyed by Steven’s constant staring at the lantern in her hand, Irene turned back and snapped at him.
The oppressive presence of the massive swarm of Sea Terror behind them was overwhelming, making it impossible for her to slow down.
Fortunately, Steven didn’t need her to drag him along, so she didn’t have to waste extra energy worrying about him trying to escape.
As for the white-haired Ægir girl whom Steven had been looking after, there was even less need for concern.
She might look delicate and frail, but once she started running, it felt like if she weren’t holding back because of Steven in front of her, she would have already launched herself straight into the sky.
What’s with these two? They’re both freaks, whether it’s their personalities or their insane physical abilities. Are they even human?
"It’s not like I was staring at you. Why are you so worked up? Or do you Inquisitors treat your lanterns as part of your bodies? Does looking at it count as invading your privacy?"
Steven, maintaining his relaxed, almost tourist-like demeanor, finally shifted his gaze away from the lantern in Irene’s hand.
This girl was actually pretty cute, but honestly, Steven was much more interested in the lantern she was carrying than in her.
He had been observing it for quite some time but couldn’t see anything special about it—it looked just like an ordinary lantern. And yet, both she and that High Inquisitor had somehow managed to use it to repel those monsters.
If only his torches could do the same.
After all, the torches he used only prevented monsters from spawning.
But in this world, creatures clearly didn’t just materialize out of thin air like in Minecraft, so he doubted his torches would be very effective.
That made him all the more envious of the lantern’s ability.
If possible, he would love for Irene to share the crafting recipe with him.
"Even if you want to stare at it, at least pick the right time! Do you have any idea what will happen if I run out of energy to keep using the lantern and those Sea Terror catch up to us?"
If she had the time, Irene would have loved to crack open Steven’s head and take a good look at what was going on inside.
"Huh? This thing needs energy to work?"
Steven’s curiosity instantly dropped by half.
If the light wasn’t perpetual, it was far less appealing
"THAT'S what you're focusing on?!"
Irene was so furious that she nearly passed out. Her breathing became noticeably heavy—if someone tried to sell her blood pressure medication right now, she’d probably buy a whole case.
"Well, what else should I be focusing on? You’re acting like you’re scared of those small fries behind us or something. I’m not scared. Are you?"
Even without a full suit of iron armor, Steven still didn’t take the monstrous tide behind him seriously.
No matter how many small fries there were, they were still just small fries—the only difference was how much time it would take to deal with them.
“Dad, I’m not scared either.”
Even Gladiia, jogging alongside Steven, chimed in at just the right moment, flashing a squinted, mischievous smile that made her look exactly like a little kid who had picked up bad habits from him.
“Good girl, but saying that will embarrass Auntie…”
Steven patted Gladiia’s head and protectively moved her behind him.
It was one thing for him to be the one making jabs, but if Gladiia joined in too, who knew if Irene’s mentality would completely collapse and she’d decide to take her frustration out on him?
“A— AUNTIE?!”
Irene stumbled mid-stride, clearly more wounded by that single word than by everything else that had happened up to this point combined.
“She’s just a kid—she doesn’t know any better. You’re really going to take her words seriously?”
Even as he spoke, Steven couldn’t help but laugh. He had to admit, saying this himself was pretty damn evil.
Expressionless, Irene turned back to glance at Gladiia again. But due to the girl’s exceptionally tall height, Irene actually had to tilt her head up to look at her properly.
Th– this is supposed to be a kid?
“Why are you staring at her? Eight years old mentally still means eight years old. No problem, right?”
Steven shielded Gladiia behind him like a protective mother hen.
If anything, he was already overestimating her—whether she even had the mental capacity of an eight-year-old was still up for debate.
Irene clenched her fists.
For the first time in her life, she felt an overwhelming urge to throw logic out the window and just beat someone up.
And the more she thought about it, the stronger that urge became.
“…Forget it. Since you think those monsters behind us aren’t a threat, if we don’t manage to rendezvous with the Penal Battalion, you two should leave first. I’ll stay behind to hold them off.”
Forcing herself to suppress her rising frustration, Irene quickly regained her composure.
She wasn’t actually afraid of the Sea Terror either—the problem was, she had no idea how much longer she could maintain the light from her lantern.
Maybe Steven was right—she wasn’t afraid to fight these monsters. But once she did, she’d inevitably be delayed, and that was exactly what the creatures wanted.
On top of that, the Penal Battalion troops who were supposed to meet up with her and her superior were nowhere to be found.
That alone was suspicious enough to make Irene uneasy.
No matter what, if their true target was Steven and his companions, she couldn’t let their scheme succeed.
“Huh? Aren’t I still a suspect? You’re just letting me go like that?”
Steven was genuinely surprised by her decision.
He had assumed she was the rigid, by-the-book type, but she was unexpectedly reasonable.
His impression of the Inquisition improved slightly.
“The true enemies of the Inquisition are the Church of the Deep and the ones backing them. It’s my duty to stop their schemes.”
She paused for a moment, clearly reluctant, but still finished her explanation.
“You may be strange, but at the very least, you don’t seem like a bad person. I trust my judgment.”
Chapter 20: Chapter 20: I'm Quite Strong, You Know
Chapter Text
Steven really wanted to refuse this "nice guy" card she was giving him.
He wasn’t exactly an evil villain, but in this day and age, being a good person wasn’t easy either.
When you could have a gun pointed at you at any moment, it was far more comfortable to be a bystander than a hero.
However, the feeling of being trusted was rare for Steven, so after a brief moment of silence, he smiled once again.
This time, though, his smile no longer carried the teasing tone he usually directed at Irene. Instead, there was a hint of warmth in it.
"Just because of your trust in me, little Inquisitor, I’ll be the good guy this time—just as you wish."
Stopping his movements, Steven turned around completely, facing the horde of terrifying creatures charging toward him like a swarm of locusts.
If he wanted to be entertained, he would naturally do whatever made him happiest. Irene’s words had made him feel good, so he didn’t mind lending her a hand.
He had originally planned to observe how this so-called Inquisitor would handle the situation and learn how the people of this world used their powers. But it seemed that would have to wait for another time.
Steven planted his Netherite Sword into the ground, resting both hands on the hilt as if preparing to single-handedly hold off the entire wave of monsters.
Irene, who had been running away, was stunned by his sudden action, stopping in her tracks to stare at his not-so-tall figure, now silhouetted against the horde of creatures.
She was more confused than ever about what was going through Steven’s mind.
She had told him to run first—so why was this guy suddenly staying behind to cover for them?
"Are you crazy? These things might just be trying to slow you down, but if you stand there and wait, they’ll completely overwhelm you!"
She couldn’t sense even a trace of Originium Arts coming from Steven. If she hadn’t witnessed that lightning-fast sword strike of his earlier, she would have thought he was simply trying to get himself killed.
After all, without relying on Originium Arts, even her teacher—the High Inquisitor Dario—would never dare to claim he could take on so many Sea Terror alone.
Everyone should understand the simple truth that "enough ants can kill an elephant."
"I'm not just waiting around. Since I said I'd help you, I won’t go back on my word. If you trust me, just stand behind me and watch quietly."
Steven waved a hand at the girl behind him, his confident posture making it seem like he wasn’t facing a swarm of monsters, but rather a group of insignificant bugs.
"After running for so long, I’m tired. This open space seems just right—it’s time to send these creatures on their way."
Rolling his shoulders, Steven glanced at the monsters that had nearly reached him in just a few short moments.
His lips curled into a grin, one that carried a hint of cruelty.
"Even if you can handle them, if they manage to stall you, no one can guarantee that something even more dangerous won’t show up afterward! Even if you don’t think about yourself, at least consider your companions!"
Irene’s gaze was still full of doubt.
If not for her instincts telling her that this man wasn’t exaggerating his abilities, she would have already taken Gladiia and left.
"No, no, no—have you ever considered that this is exactly what I want? My real goal is to meet those so-called 'bigger guys' behind them."
Steven turned his head back and patted the small head of Gladiia, who had stopped moving the moment he did.
Only this forgetful little fool would trust him no matter what he chose to do.
"Besides," he added, "I don’t think I’ve mentioned this, but I’m actually pretty strong."
As Steven spoke these rather arrogant words, he raised his right arm high into the air.
Fighting off a swarm of monsters? That was nothing special to him.
He had survived sieges of monsters and zombie onslaughts before—what could this group of ugly, good-for-nothing creatures possibly do to him?
Irene was baffled by Steven’s cryptic words, but in the next moment, something happened that completely shattered her worldview.
A flash of light flickered in Steven's raised right hand.
Irene, expecting to witness some kind of Originium Arts activation, instead saw something completely bizarre—a perfectly square, pale gray stone block, about a meter wide, had mysteriously appeared in his grasp.
It was just an ordinary block of stone.
There was no fundamental difference between it and the rocks on the ground beneath her feet.
The only thing odd about it was that it was almost too square—so unnaturally precise in shape that it seemed unnatural.
And its size was a bit excessive.
Steven held the cubic stone in one hand as if it weighed nothing.
Just as Irene was wondering what he planned to do with it, he casually flicked his wrist and hurled the block forward as if he were throwing a baseball.
Boom!
A deafening sonic boom ripped through the air, like a meteor streaking across the sky.
Irene couldn’t comprehend how someone could throw such a massive rock at such an absurd speed.
But by the time she managed to react, a massive clearing had already appeared in front of Steven.
The terrifying creatures that had stood in the stone’s path had been pulverized into dust. At the point of impact, the ground had caved in, leaving a crater over ten meters wide—like the aftermath of a meteor strike.
The sheer speed of the rock’s flight had caused the surrounding air to heat up from friction, leaving behind scorched marks along its trajectory.
The deep pit at the end of the impact zone had been charred black, reduced to a lifeless wasteland.
How much raw power would it take to achieve such a result? Was this guy some kind of humanoid Feranmut?!
But what left Irene even more speechless was the fact that Steven didn’t seem the least bit strained from what he had just done.
With an expression of utter nonchalance, he casually conjured another identical block from seemingly nowhere.
Never in her life had Irene imagined that someone could just throw rocks and create such an utterly jaw-dropping effect.
She was at a complete loss for words.
The sheer astonishment and confusion clogged her throat.
All she could do was rub her eyes in disbelief and stare as Steven continued his bizarre assault—like a living, breathing catapult—hurling massive stone blocks at a rate of one per second, bombarding the monstrous horde ahead of him.
Only Steven himself understood the frustration behind his actions.
If only he still had access to all his usual mods, he wouldn’t have to resort to something so primitive.
Sure, brute force rock-throwing was a solid tactic in any world, but let’s be honest—there was no elegance or flair to it whatsoever.
A grown man, flinging rocks in a fight?
God, how embarrassing.
Chapter 21: Chapter 21: Originium Arts, Kid!
Chapter Text
Tn: Note in advance, Tn: In China, Originium is also called as [Source Stone], it sounds similar to cobblestone when spoken, hence Steven's confusion.
<+>
Fortunately, Steven’s actions weren’t any less effective just because their principle was simple. If anything, the young Inquisitor standing beside him was completely dumbfounded.
In less than a minute, the endless swarm of terrifying creatures—once as vast as an ocean—had been reduced to nothing but scattered flesh and debris.
A distinct aroma of roasted fish filled the air.
Ahead of Steven, the monstrous horde that had relentlessly pursued them was now completely gone, as if they had never existed.
Only after finishing his work did Steven casually shake his hand, then pull his Netherite Sword from the ground.
He was a man of his word—since he had promised to help Irene deal with these pursuers, there was no way he would keep her waiting too long.
The only thing that annoyed him was how stingy these so-called "Sea Terror" turned out to be. It was as if they were completely irrelevant to the world's overall plot, since they hadn’t even given him a single WAP (World Acknowledgement Point).
A full minute of effort and nearly a stack of cobblestone used up, and this was all he got?
Being a good guy was really more trouble than it was worth. Next time, he should think twice before jumping in just because someone flattered him a little.
"…How did you do that?"
After a long silence, the Liberi girl finally forced the question out, her voice filled with disbelief.
She wasn’t unfamiliar with the sight of powerful warriors in battle.
She had even witnessed Saints in action before.
But none of that had ever shaken her as much as what this young man had just done.
Throwing a one-meter-wide stone block wasn’t exactly an impossible feat in this world. However, doing it as effortlessly as Steven had—and at such ridiculous speeds—was absolutely beyond what any normal person could achieve.
"Hmm, just a little bit of technique, some dedicated training, and a tiny bit of gravitational assistance?"
Steven answered the girl’s question with complete seriousness.
This particular strategy had been something he came up with on the spot while testing the mechanics of this world.
After all, in this world, it seemed that a certain physicist with the last name "Newton" still had his coffin lid firmly in place—meaning that objects he placed wouldn’t just float in midair for no reason.
That was why he had the option of using his blocks as projectiles in the first place.
Of course, this also meant that his dream of building a floating city was temporarily out of reach.
He would have to wait until he understood more about this world’s mechanics before revisiting that idea.
"So… this is your Originium Arts?"
Irene swallowed hard, her mind finally piecing things together.
Now she understood why her superiors had treated Steven with such friendliness.
If this guy ever decided to go against them, even if she teamed up with Dario, they probably wouldn’t even stand a chance.
Admitting this reality was a huge blow to her pride, but in the end, she had no choice but to accept the truth.
No wonder Steven was so relaxed all the time.
For someone like him, whether it was the Inquisition or the Church of the Deep, neither organization could truly contain him. He could go wherever he wanted.
"Uh… how do you know this is Stone Arts?" Steven raised an eyebrow. "To be precise, it’s Cobblestone Throwing Arts. Don’t be fooled by how effortless I made it look—each throw requires careful calculation of angle and force, you know."
"Cobblestone actually has a lot of different uses, you know?"
Steven obviously didn't notice the slight difference between "Originium" and "Cobblestone," and he mistakenly thought Irene had accurately recognized the blocks he had been throwing as cobblestone blocks.
Excited by this perceived recognition, he enthusiastically started bragging to the girl about his "technique."
At that moment, the terrifying image he had just built up as a monstrous powerhouse completely collapsed.
Irene’s expression grew more complicated as she looked at him.
No matter how powerful someone was, if their brain wasn’t working right, they were beyond saving.
"You… don’t actually know what Originium is, do you?"
Her worldview was shaken yet again, but by now, she was starting to feel numb to it.
When it came to Steven, it seemed like encountering absurd things was the most normal thing in the world.
"Eh? You're saying the 'Originium' you're talking about isn’t the same as the 'Stone' I'm talking about?"
Steven froze for a second before realizing that the "Originium Arts" she was referring to was probably something entirely different from the basic building material he had in his inventory.
"What do you think?"
"I have no idea."
This time, Steven was genuinely clueless.
He had never actually played Arknights. All he knew was that the game had a notoriously bleak setting, a confusing plot, cute waifus, and that the protagonist’s base of operations was called something like "Rhode Island"—which had a bunny-eared girl that the fanbase loved jokingly calling a donkey.
That was about the extent of his knowledge regarding the Arknights world.
"You… seriously."
Irene covered her face with one hand, struggling to find the right words to describe him.
"If you don’t know how to describe me, then just don’t. More importantly, this situation isn’t over yet. These monsters were just small fry to warm us up—the real threat is probably on its way now."
Noticing Irene’s odd expression, Steven knew she probably had nothing good to say about him, so he quickly changed the subject.
Rather than discussing something pointless, it was better to focus on the boss fight that was likely coming up.
But as he scanned the area, Steven suddenly realized something important.
"Wait a second—where’s my daughter? Where’s my adorable, clumsy daughter?"
Only now did he notice that the girl who was supposed to be by his side—Gladiia—was nowhere to be seen.
His face instantly darkened.
How had he managed to lose his daughter in the short time he spent showing off?
He had already accepted Gladiia as his "adopted daughter" by default, so he had no issue casually referring to her as such in front of Irene.
"Wasn’t she always sticking to you? How would I know where she went?"
Irene also realized the problem.
She had been so stunned by Steven’s display of strength earlier that her brain had practically stopped working—there was no way she would’ve noticed where the quiet girl who always clung to Steven had gone.
Come to think of it, with how fast that girl had moved when she ran away earlier, a few minutes would’ve been more than enough for her to vanish completely.
"I knew it… showing off never ends well. Especially when you do it on purpose—there’s always karma."
Steven chuckled bitterly, but he wasn’t too worried about Gladiia’s safety.
She might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she had solid combat abilities.
Besides, finding her wasn’t going to be a problem for him.
After all, didn’t he have the Minimap Mod?
Chapter 22: Chapter 22: What the Hell is Going On?
Chapter Text
Steven glanced at the minimap in the top right corner of his vision, but he didn’t see the small green dot that represented Gladiia.
That meant she had likely already moved far away from him.
Luckily, the Minimap Mod wasn’t limited to just a minimap. With a simple thought, a full-scale map of all the areas he had explored so far appeared before him.
On the map, Gladiia’s icon was moving rapidly, chasing after a strange red dot.
What caught Steven’s attention the most was that she wasn’t heading toward the ocean, as he had originally predicted.
Was she chasing after someone important to her, even in her amnesiac state? Or… had she already regained her memories?
With a face full of confusion, Steven stared in the direction Gladiia had gone.
Of course, he had to go after her.
He had promised to take responsibility for her, and she was the first person he had met in this world.
There was no doubt he cared about her.
The problem was that he couldn’t exactly leave right now.
Just as he had suspected, after wiping out the Sea Terror that had served as the vanguard, a much more intense feeling of being watched had surrounded him.
Clearly, the ones that had surfaced weren’t the only threats.
Something even more dangerous was lurking in the shadows behind them.
Now that Steven had taken care of the small fry, he should have been preparing to deal with the real threats waiting in the background.
But frankly, he wasn’t in the mood.
He had only fought the monsters to prove to Irene that he was, in fact, a decent person. But not only had they dropped nothing of value, his daughter had gone missing in the process.
Who the hell still had the patience to fight at a time like this?
"Hey, how about you stall these annoying things while I go look for my daughter? Once I find her, I’ll come back and turn myself in, deal?"
Steven nudged the tiny Inquisitor beside him with his elbow, casually discussing his next move with her.
"Are you serious?"
Irene had long since stopped expecting logic from Steven, but even for him, this was a bit much.
Just earlier, he was boasting about how strong he was and telling her to leave everything to him. And now, he wanted to dump this mess back on her?
The hidden danger in their surroundings was something she could already sense. Unlike the brainless monsters that had only acted on instinct, these unseen threats were clearly much more dangerous.
Steven was basically acting like a player who wiped out all the small mobs, only to suddenly request to leave the party right before the boss fight.
She had no idea what went on inside his head.
"Come on, this just means I trust you. You did say you’d hold them off for me earlier, right? They’re just some stronger mobs—if things get too rough, you can always run. Or actually, why not just run away now?"
Steven stroked his chin.
He still remembered that Irene had claimed she’d cover their retreat.
Well, now was the perfect time for her to prove herself.
"Hah—then why don’t we just run together? I could even help you find your so-called daughter."
Irene sucked in a sharp breath.
She really, really couldn’t figure out how Steven’s mind worked.
"No, that’s not going to work."
Steven shook his head, even lifting a finger and wagging it for emphasis.
"You can’t keep up with my speed."
Steven wasn’t looking down on Irene—she was definitely superhuman compared to regular people.
But compared to him? That was a different story.
He wasn’t even sure if Gladiia could catch up to his speed, let alone her.
To prove his point, Steven suddenly dashed forward.
In an instant, his figure blurred, leaving behind a fading afterimage.
By the time Irene blinked, he was already at the edge of her vision.
"I’ll leave the rest to you! I’ll be back later to turn myself in~"
His voice echoed in the air, but the person himself was long gone.
Irene just stood there, staring blankly at the now-empty space where Steven had been. The corners of her mouth twitched.
Sure, he was right—she definitely couldn’t keep up with that speed. But did he really just ditch her like that?
What the hell is going on?!
She wanted to rant about Steven’s ridiculous thought process a little longer, but her instincts quickly snapped her back to reality.
Steven might have left, but the monsters were still here.
She could feel it—those hidden creatures had been wary of Steven’s presence. But now that he was gone, they were starting to stir.
Irene didn’t waste a single second.
The moment she realized the creatures were getting restless, she made the most logical decision available.
Without a shred of hesitation, the petite Inquisitor turned around and sprinted in the opposite direction of Steven.
She wasn’t some brain-dead idiot like him.
There was no one here she needed to protect, so why would she stay and fight these dangerous creatures?
Her priority now was to find the missing Penal Army forces and regroup with her superiors.
As for taking Steven back to the Inquisition? Yeah, she had completely given up on that idea.
That guy’s combat ability was clearly way beyond what a few Inquisitors could handle.
If he didn’t want to come along, it would take way too much effort to capture him—not to mention, it probably wasn’t even worth it.
Besides, Steven did say he’d turn himself in after finding that Ægir girl.
Irene could only choose to trust his words.
As for the sea monsters?
Well… whoever wanted to deal with them could go right ahead. Not her problem.
Shaking her head, she forced Steven’s absurd image out of her mind.
That guy is ridiculously strong… so why is his brain so completely out of whack?
As Irene vanished into the distance, the battlefield fell silent.
The only things left were the scorched earth, the remains of the Sea Terror, and the lingering scent of cooked seafood.
Finally, the hidden creatures lurking in the shadows began to emerge.
They were the same type of monsters Steven had encountered when he first arrived at the shore.
After exchanging a few guttural growls among themselves, the creatures suddenly parted, making way for something behind them.
A figure stepped forward.
It was humanoid in shape, but its body seemed to be an eerie fusion of fish mucus, tattered cloth, and broken bones.
The black humanoid creature turned its head in the direction Steven had disappeared, its voice a low, thoughtful murmur.
"A powerful being… we must remain vigilant."
If Irene had been here to witness this, she would have been too stunned to speak.
Because this bizarre, nightmarish creature…
Was speaking in perfect Terran common language.
Chapter 23: Chapter 23: The Abyssal Hunter That Came Knocking
Chapter Text
Near the Iberian coastal village, there stood an old, dilapidated church.
Time and the salty sea breeze had left their marks on the building. Ever since the catastrophe that swept across all of Iberia, few had set foot in this place.
When mere survival had become a luxury, faith had lost its meaning.
The interior of the church had been stripped bare, moss covered nearly half of its crumbling walls, and the entire structure radiated a post-apocalyptic, desolate atmosphere.
The local villagers rarely visited places like this anymore.
Everyone knew that when hunger struck, begging the gods was far less effective than simply lying down and conserving what little energy they had left.
But today, on an otherwise unremarkable day, this long-abandoned church welcomed an unexpected visitor.
A figure, entirely cloaked in black, staggered through the broken, wide-open doors, gasping for breath.
Leaning against a collapsed pillar, he took deep, heavy breaths.
He hadn’t expected that simply investigating the ocean’s anomalies—following those Sea Terror to the fishing village—would lead him to such a shocking discovery.
The Sea Terror’s rampage had been triggered by the presence of an Abyssal Hunter in the village.
And that scent—there was no way he could mistake it.
He had to inform his comrades that another Abyssal Hunter had survived, even if… she seemed a little off somehow.
As for that monstrous boy, he was another matter altogether.
If there was any chance to study him, the benefits to their research would be immeasurable.
But first, he needed to relocate his most important research materials—this hideout was no longer safe.
Of course, if he could manage to gain something extra in the process, that would be even better.
The real reason for his panic, however, was the girl who had been relentlessly pursuing him—like a hunting dog on his scent.
She was frighteningly skilled at tracking.
All it took was a single glance in her direction—watching her and that boy among the Sea Terror—for her to notice him.
And then, she had chased him.
Not at full speed, even though she could have caught him easily.
No, she was herding him—driving him straight to his own lair.
Because she wanted to find it.
After all, she was exactly the kind of person he was most interested in—a true Abyssal Hunter.
But that suited him just fine.
With the right plan, hunter and prey could always switch roles.
And judging by her current unstable state, his chances of success were even greater.
Sure enough, barely moments after he stopped to catch his breath, the ruined church doors creaked as another figure stepped inside.
A white-haired girl, dressed in rough, coarse fabric, walked in.
Her crimson eyes flickered with a hint of confusion.
She made no attempt to hide herself.
Instead, she scanned the surroundings, as if searching for something—confirming something.
In truth, she had no idea why she had come here.
She didn’t even know why she had been chasing this hooded man.
But the moment she caught his scent—so familiar, so much like a kindred spirit—her body had moved on its own.
Whatever he was hiding, whatever was buried in that dark cloak of his, she had to find out.
Because deep down, something told her—this was something she could not afford to lose.
Driven by this inexplicable urge, Gladiia had instinctively chased him all the way here. But now that she had arrived, she found herself lost in confusion.
What... was she supposed to do next?
A thin haze of uncertainty clouded her crimson eyes. She clutched her forehead, as if struggling to recall something vitally important.
This wasn’t the first time she had felt this way. It had happened before—except back then, her father had been there.
As long as she stood behind him, she never had to think about such things.
He would always handle the troublesome matters for her.
That was why she clung so desperately to him—because the feeling of standing behind someone, of being protected, was something she had never experienced before.
But now, she realized that because of her reckless pursuit, she had strayed far from her father.
Like a lost cub separated from its pack.
The sharpness in her gaze gradually faded. An overwhelming sense of helplessness surged through her.
Her pursuit had been driven by nothing more than lingering instincts.
But now that she had snapped out of that state, she had completely forgotten what she was supposed to do next.
The tall Ægir girl wrapped her arms tightly around herself and crouched down—just like a frightened child.
From the shadows of the church, the cloaked man observed everything.
Was this really the same Abyssal Hunter he had known?
They are the merciless slayers of his kind—why would one of them display such weakness?
Or was this some elaborate deception?
She had pursued him all this way, only to suddenly drop her guard and curl up like a lost little girl?
Doubt filled his mind, causing him to hesitate in his original plan to subdue her.
The more unnatural an action seemed, the more likely it was part of some hidden scheme.
After all, Abyssal Hunters were not just physically powerful—they were dangerous.
But the longer he observed Gladiia, the more certain he became that she was not faking it.
Her current state was identical to that of another Abyssal Hunter he had once studied—a subject they had experimented on for so long that she eventually lost her memories.
The only difference was that that girl had gone mad from torment.
Whereas this one…
Her eyes held no trace of madness.
Only pure, unfiltered confusion.
‘Could today really be my lucky day?’
The cloaked man narrowed his eyes, silently thanking the heavens for this unexpected gift.
His previous test subject had been stolen from him—but now, another one had willingly walked right into his grasp.
It didn’t matter if something was wrong with Gladiia’s state.
He wasn’t going to let her go either way.
And now that he had returned to his lair, he was confident he had the advantage.
Raising a hand, he gestured toward the darkness behind him.
With a slow, eerie creak, a hidden underground door beneath the ruined church opened.
From the dim depths, a group of grotesque figures emerged—warped creatures, their bodies covered in jagged crystalline growths.
They were neither fully human nor fully fish.
“Go, my brethren.”
The cloaked man murmured softly, extending a finger toward Gladiia.
“Bring the girl to me.”
Chapter 24: Chapter 24: Do You Know You’re Breaking the Law?
Chapter Text
With a guttural, beast-like snarl, the monstrous creatures obeyed the cloaked man’s command and charged out from the shadows, encircling the defenseless girl inside the church.
Their grotesque, half-human, half-fish faces were covered in unnatural crystalline growths that jutted out from their flesh, making them even more hideous.
The sight alone was nauseating, as if their very existence was an insult to life itself.
These things were not the result of natural evolution—no, they were an abomination.
And yet, the terrifying energy radiating from them was undeniable.
They wasted no time. The creatures extended their grotesquely mutated arms—covered in scales and crystal shards—toward the girl, attempting to restrain her.
There was no hesitation, no sympathy.
They were merely experimental subjects, programmed to follow orders. Emotions had no place in their minds.
But the moment they appeared, something within Gladiia stirred.
A faint clarity returned to her mind.
Almost instinctively, she dodged the reaching arms and darted backward, moving with the speed and precision of a swordfish gliding through the deep sea.
Yet, just as she attempted to retreat, a translucent wall of eerie, pale-blue slime rose behind her, sealing off her escape.
The creatures slowly lowered their arms.
The same unnatural glow that pulsed from their crystalline bodies hinted at the origin of the barricade—it was their doing.
Blocked from fleeing, Gladiia's crimson eyes once again clouded with confusion.
Her initial reaction had been purely instinctual, not a sign of fully regained awareness. The fact that she had managed to dodge at all was remarkable.
But now that her movement had been interrupted, so too had her dazed, reflex-driven actions.
She stared at the advancing creatures with fearful, helpless eyes, her pupils filled with desperation.
She didn’t understand why they were here.
She didn’t understand why they were attacking her.
But even in her childlike state of mind, she knew—falling into their hands would mean a fate far worse than death.
"I don’t know what happened to make you end up like this," a voice echoed from the shadows.
"But it doesn’t matter."
"We will heal you… in our own way, dear Abyssal Hunter."
Only after confirming that Gladiia had completely lost the will and ability to resist did the cloaked man finally emerge from the darkness, speaking as if he were giving an acceptance speech.
His eyes gleamed with twisted fascination as he gazed at the girl, now surrounded by his monstrous creations.
Even though he had already studied the Abyssal Hunters’ formidable physiology once before, he remained utterly captivated by them—especially by how their bodies resisted the effects of concentrated Originium liquid.
The way they writhed in agony, their pained cries—
He had never forgotten it.
It was exquisite.
Unfortunately, his previous test subject had been stolen away by those damn medics.
But now, another had conveniently delivered herself right into his grasp.
How could he not be thrilled?
The previous Abyssal Hunter had been handled by his three superiors, leaving the cloaked man with nothing more than the role of an observer.
But this time, it was different.
This time, he was the one who captured the subject.
That meant she would be his to handle.
Just thinking about it sent a shiver of greedy anticipation down his spine.
Beneath the hood, his murky eyes glowed with twisted delight.
This time, he would personally inject the Originium fluid into his captive’s spinal column.
This time, he would hear her despairing screams with his own ears.
Sensing the perverse gaze fixated on her, Gladiia shrank back, hugging her own shoulders. Her body trembled with fear.
“M-My dad is really strong…”
Like a bullied child calling out for a parent, the amnesiac girl’s fragile voice—no louder than a kitten’s mew—was her last attempt at resistance.
But instead of intimidating the cloaked man, her pitiful display only excited him further.
She really was broken.
How wonderful.
“Don’t worry,” he sneered, his grin stretching unnaturally wide. “I’ll make sure your so-called father joins you soon enough. But for now, just be a good girl and cooperate, hmm?”
His shoulders trembled with barely restrained excitement as he watched his monstrous creations reach out their slimy hands toward their helpless prey.
And yet—
Before they could even touch her, a sudden force slammed into them from beyond the crystalline wall, sending the creatures tumbling backward.
“Now, now, isn’t all this a bit unnecessary?”
A lazy voice rang out from the direction of the shattered wall.
Leaning his Netherite Sword against his shoulder, Steven nonchalantly lowered the leg he had used to kick the barrier down.
His gaze swept over the scene, landing at last on the cloaked man, who had been so sure of his victory mere moments ago.
“Kidnapping a child, huh? You do realize that’s punishable by death, don’t you?”
Steven’s sword leveled itself, its tip aimed directly at the cloaked man’s head.
His face was still curved into an easygoing smile, but his words carried the weight of absolute authority.
Looking at the situation, he had arrived a little earlier than ideal.
Wouldn’t it have been more dramatic if he’d burst in just as the villain was about to do something truly horrific? That way, his entrance would’ve been even more heroic, even more cinematic.
Sighing internally at his own lack of theatrical timing, Steven made a mental note to let things simmer a bit longer next time.
He shouldn’t have jumped in so quickly just because he was worried about his adorable, adopted daughter.
At that thought, his gaze shifted to the corner where Gladiia stood, her crimson eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“Dad…”
“I’m right here.”
Reassured that she was still in her amnesiac state—and still recognized him as her ‘father’—Steven exhaled in relief.
In the next instant, he flickered forward.
One swift stroke.
A single clean slash.
And the nearest fish-mutant collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
“I’ll deal with you running off later,” he murmured over his shoulder to Gladiia.
“For now…”
His icy gaze snapped back to the cloaked man.
“I think we need to have a little chat about the legal consequences of trafficking minors, don’t you?”
Though he still wore a smile, his eyes were as cold as death itself.
Chapter 25: Chapter 25: Too Much Talking
Chapter Text
To be honest, Steven had no idea where this place was.
Nor did he know why this guy was targeting Gladiia.
Hell, he didn’t even know who this cloaked bastard was.
After all, he was only here to see some bloodshed.
But there was one thing he did understand—
The guy in front of him was a red dot on the minimap.
And that was all that mattered.
Without giving the man a chance to explain himself, Steven vanished from his spot, leaving only a fading afterimage behind.
In an instant, he was standing right beside the cloaked figure.
Honestly, Steven was the type to skip boss intro cutscenes.
Did you really think he’d let this clown monologue?
Come on, time was precious.
Who the hell cares if the villain had some tragic backstory?
If you did something terrible, you should be prepared to face the consequences.
Steven had zero patience for sob stories.
Without a sound, his Netherite Sword pressed against the man’s throat.
After a brief moment of thought, he decided to be generous—
He’d give the guy a single sentence. A final parting word, so to speak.
After all, even if he skipped the opening, it wouldn’t hurt to at least watch the ending, right?
“You’ve got one sentence. Make it count.”
Ignoring the shock flashing in the cloaked man’s eyes, Steven lazily yawned.
His entire demeanor screamed bored office worker waiting for his shift to end.
“…I think there might be a misunderstanding between us. Why don’t we sit down and talk this out, sir?”
The cloaked man truly hadn’t expected this.
How the hell had this kid bypassed all of his monstrous guards?
But then, remembering how effortlessly Steven had stopped the Sea Terror, it suddenly didn’t seem that impossible.
Abyssal Hunters already possessed unheard-of physical capabilities.
But this boy—
This boy had completely shattered his understanding of human limits.
Was he really human? Or something… else?
The cloaked man didn’t have time to ponder.
He opened his mouth, ready to keep negotiating, but before he could get another word out, his world spun upside down.
His entire field of vision flipped violently.
And then—
THUD
He landed on the ground.
Only now, as he lay there, did he see it—
A headless corpse, dressed in familiar black robes.
—Wait.
Wasn’t that… him?
But where was his head—?
“Too much talking. That counts as a sentence, by the way.”
Steven’s voice rang from above.
But the cloaked man could no longer answer.
Steven glanced at the faintly glowing, greenish goo staining his sword.
His face scrunched in disgust.
“Ugh. So it only looked like a human on the outside, but on the inside is still up for debate.”
He had zero intention of checking under the hood to admire the bastard’s final expression.
Instead, he simply lifted his gaze.
The now masterless fish-like monsters were beginning to stir—
Unrestrained.
Uncontrolled.
Well, time to clean up the mess.
Still, how the hell did his adopted daughter end up attracting this level of eldritch garbage?
Shaking his head in confusion, Steven quickly counted the remaining creatures.
Less than ten.
Though, to be fair, they did look a bit more intimidating than the other monsters he’d come across in this world.
Mostly because of those eerie, crystallized growths covering their bodies.
—But honestly?
That was just good aesthetics.
The out-of-control fish-like monsters stirred restlessly, their bloodthirsty eyes naturally locking onto Steven and Gladiia—the two beings that clearly did not belong among them.
"ROAR!"
A furious bellow finally shattered their restraint, and the crazed creatures lunged at Steven and Gladiia as if possessed.
"Well, that works. Saves me the trouble of going after you myself."
Gripping the hilt of his longsword, Steven effortlessly sidestepped the first monster’s lunging bite. In the same fluid motion, his blade swept across its neck.
The Sharpness V Nether Netherite Sword sliced through its flesh as effortlessly as cutting tofu, severing skin, muscle, and bone alike.
The creature’s head flew cleanly off before it even realized what had happened.
[Ding! You have slain a plot monster, World Acknowledgement Point +20]
A notification flashed in the lower right of his vision, instantly lifting his mood.
No matter what, gaining WAP was always a win.
Sure, it was a small amount—like scraping meat off a mosquito’s leg—but hey, meat was meat.
He slashed again, effortlessly cleaving through another monster that lunged at him. A slight grin tugged at his lips.
These things were fast. Stronger too—definitely more powerful than the monsters he had encountered on the shores earlier.
But that was only relative.
Against Steven’s overwhelming power?
Even if they doubled in strength, 1 x 2 was still just 2.
In the blink of an eye, two monsters had already fallen.
Even though they had lost their master’s control, their instincts screamed at them—
This prey was dangerous.
Originally, some of them had been preparing to pounce on Gladiia.
But now, all their bloodthirsty, savage gazes turned toward Steven instead.
"Oh? Didn’t expect you guys to have teamwork."
His grin widened.
"So you realized you can't take me one-on-one, so you're ganging up instead?"
That actually made things easier for him.
Now, he wouldn’t even have to worry about protecting Gladiia.
In a way, these monsters were being very considerate.
Feeling grateful, Steven decided to return the favor—
He would grant them a quick and painless death.
It was the least he could do for these creatures, who were clearly victims of artificial modification.
But then, something unexpected happened.
As the monsters grouped together, the amber-colored crystalline growths on their bodies began to glow ominously.
Steven instinctively halted his sword.
Because—
That pulsing glow…
It gave him serious Creeper detonation vibes.
Oh shit.
Were they gonna blow up?!
Jumping straight to self-destruction?
Damn, these guys don’t mess around.
Due to feeling curious about this pulsing glow thing, Steven didn’t interrupt them.
Instead, he decided to wait and see what kind of surprise they had in store for him.
Ever since entering this world, most of the monsters he had encountered were feral beasts, brainless things that only knew how to bite and tear.
But if he remembered correctly, this world had magic, right?
He distinctly recalled Irene mentioning something called Originium Arts.
Steven was intrigued.
He had dabbled in arcane enchantments, blood magic, and even plant-based sorcery before.
But this Originium Art stuff?
Now that was new.
And the monsters did not disappoint.
As their amber crystals finished charging, they turned blood red, and in unison, the creatures raised their claws toward him.
The earth beneath him trembled.
And then countless razor-sharp spikes erupted from the ground, shooting straight toward him.
Chapter 26: Chapter 26: Sorry, Not Today
Chapter Text
The earth spikes erupted without warning.
If it were anyone else, they’d probably be impaled instantly—skewered like a kebab before they even realized what happened.
But Steven?
He merely glanced at the incoming spikes, his expression caught somewhere between disappointment and pity—as if he were let down by their sheer incompetence.
The jagged crystalline spikes, gleaming with the same eerie light as the monsters’ bodies, closed in on him in an instant.
And just as they were about to pierce him through, Steven simply raised his right arm.
The next second—
Thud. Thud. Thud
A series of dull, almost knocking-like sounds echoed out.
The seemingly unstoppable spikes bounced off.
As if they had just slammed into an impenetrable wall, they ricocheted in all directions.
Meanwhile, their intended target—Steven—lowered his off-hand shield at a leisurely pace.
"Sorry, not today."
The Minecraft achievement [Not Today, Thank You] popped up in his head, making him shake his head in disappointment.
And as for the "shield" in his hand…
Calling it a shield was generous.
Honestly, both in shape and design, it looked way more like a wooden door plank.
But hey, that wasn’t his fault.
Minecraft’s default shield was literally just this.
Sure, Steven had plenty of better-looking shield mods, but he couldn’t exactly pull those out right now, could he?
Given the meager resources he had left, managing to craft even a basic wooden shield was already a damn miracle.
Luckily, even in its most primitive form, a Minecraft shield was broken as hell when it came to blocking projectiles.
And Steven highly doubted that this world’s inhabitants had the foresight to enchant their spells and arrows with Piercing, a mechanic that only existed in Minecraft.
Seeing how even their combined Originium Arts attack had been so easily neutralized, the remaining monsters roared even louder out of rage, frustration, and maybe even fear.
Of course, these creatures had about the same intelligence as wild beasts.
If they had even a shred of self-awareness, they’d have run for their damn lives by now.
"Well, that was a nice little fireworks show."
Steven muttered, the curiosity in his eyes fading.
He had expected this world’s Originium Arts to be something new and innovative, but now?
It was just another form of energy manipulation.
Nothing different from the magic mods or superpower mods he had seen before.
Just a different name for the same old thing.
Slightly disappointed, he dismissed his shield and ignored the few remaining stray spikes still flying toward him.
And then he moved.
His ghostly speed kicked in once more, and this time, he wasn’t holding back.
In the span of a few short breaths, the battlefield was silent—
The last of the monsters lay dead, their lifeless bodies scattered across the ground.
Steven flicked his wrist, shaking off the greenish blood clinging to his Netherite Sword before stowing it away in his inventory.
And finally, he turned his gaze toward the white-haired girl who had been hiding in the corner the entire time, her violet eyes staring up at him, filled with admiration and absolute dependence.
"Alright." Steven sighed, as if preparing himself for the real challenge.
"Now, let's talk about what you did. I promise I won’t spank you."
It was the kind of exasperated sigh a parent would give when dealing with a troublemaking kid.
Now he understood.
Now he finally got why parents were always so frustrated—
Because when kids messed up, it was the adults who had to clean up the mess.
At the sound of his summoning, Gladiia immediately bolted to his side, but the moment she heard him mention spanking, she froze, then looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, as if begging for mercy.
Her delicate face was still streaked with the remnants of tears—evidence of her earlier fear.
Now, paired with those pure, childlike eyes, it was enough to make half of Steven’s heart melt on the spot.
Seriously.
No matter what world you were in, looks mattered.
It didn’t matter what you did—if you were good-looking, nothing ever felt out of place.
By all logic, Gladiia was supposed to be the strong-willed, dominant type—a classic cool beauty.
And yet, when she made that kind of expression?
Steven really couldn’t handle it.
He had zero resistance when it came to cute and pretty things.
"Looking at me like that won’t help."
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I found you this time. I found you last time. But what if—one day—I just don’t feel like it? Hm? What if I decide to be lazy?"
"Then what? Are you trying to faintly call out to me till death?"
He had fully intended to scold her—to discipline her properly.
But in the end, the idea of punishing her just… didn’t sit right.
Sure, the thought of bending over a tall, proud girl and spanking her sounded fun, but it only worked if she wasn’t a clueless, amnesiac idiot.
Otherwise, it was just bullying a child with a learning disability.
And even Steven had standards.
"I was wrong."
Her soft, trembling voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Her lips pouted in guilt, eyes drooping as she genuinely apologized.
Not just her usual "Dad, Dad" routine—
But a real, serious apology.
Turns out, even among child-minded people, there were differences.
Despite her regressed mentality, Gladiia could still be reasonable when the situation called for it.
And with that, Steven had no real reason to keep scolding her.
A kid that admits their mistake so honestly—there was no point punishing them further.
"As long as you know."
Shaking his head, he sighed in reluctance.
"But if you ever run off without a word again, I will discipline you next time. Just like I said."
And no, not that kind of "discipline" from certain shady little books—
It would be a completely normal, healthy, parental kind of discipline.
Probably.
Just as he was about to leave this corpse-ridden, ruined church with Gladiia, a sudden thought struck him.
Pausing mid-step, he facepalmed—
"Oh, right. Almost forgot."
Turning back, he strode toward the headless corpse of the black-robed man.
Gladiia blinked in confusion as Steven crouched down, pulling his Netherite Sword back out.
Then, he stabbed the blade straight into the corpse's arm.
"Oi. How long do you plan on playing dead?"
A mocking grin spread across Steven’s face.
"I almost fell for it, you know?"
His voice was dripping with amusement.
"As a reward for your brilliant acting, I’ll be generous."
He twisted the blade ever so slightly.
"I’ll give you a few more seconds to say your last words."
Then his grin widened—
"If not—well, don’t blame me for cremating you alive."
He had intentionally avoided any fatal areas—going for the arm instead.
Because really, he was genuinely curious—
How the hell was this guy still alive after getting his head cut off?
Even those mutant fish monsters had given WAP upon death.
And yet, this guy?
Nothing.
Not even a sliver of EXP.
That’s when it clicked—
This sneaky bastard was faking it.
Chapter 27: Chapter 27: Wait Until He Finishes Talking
Chapter Text
Seeing someone still alive after losing their head was a first for Steven. Naturally, his curiosity was piqued, which was why he hadn’t finished the job. However, despite Steven’s words and the sword piercing through its shoulder, the "corpse" lying on the ground remained motionless, as though mocking his assumptions.
"Alright, keep pretending. But I’m not curious anymore. If you can survive being burned alive, then I’ll give you some credit," Steven said with a shrug.
He pulled a flint and steel from his inventory. It wasn’t hard to craft and always handy to have, even outside the Minecraft world. Striking the flint lightly beside the corpse, a flame suddenly ignited, burning steadily without any visible fuel source.
Demonstrating his intent, Steven smiled faintly as he moved the flint closer to the "corpse."
"..."
"Wait! Alright, fine. As I said before, maybe we can talk this out," came the hurried response.
Just as Steven’s flint was about to touch the corpse, the black-robed figure suddenly jolted upright as if breaking character in a poorly acted play. The figure scrambled back from the approaching flame.
Even the black-robed man himself couldn’t quite understand how Steven had seen through his act. By all logic, his performance should have been flawless. After all, no one would expect a decapitated person to still be alive. Yet, once again, this enigmatic young man had thwarted his plan.
With his "play dead and escape" tactic exposed, the black-robed man gave up on fleeing. He had already experienced Steven’s speed firsthand—escape was impossible in his current condition. Now, his only hope for survival lay in leveraging the information he held.
"Wow, you really aren’t dead. So, how are you still alive? I’m curious," Steven asked, his interest fully captured as he stared at the decapitated yet animated figure. His gaze brimmed with curiosity.
If he could learn this trick, maybe he could cosplay as the Headless Horseman someday.
"That’s because I’ve evolved into a higher form of life," the black-robed man explained, removing his robe to reveal what lay beneath.
What emerged was far removed from anything that could be called "human." Instead, his body resembled a grotesque amalgamation of various marine organisms, stitched together into a monstrous fusion. A mere glance was enough to make one recoil.
No wonder he could function despite losing his head. With a body like that, any part of it could probably serve as a brain.
Steven’s initial curiosity quickly turned into disgust. He had no desire to turn into something so repulsive. This thing had the audacity to call itself a "higher form of life"? Typical delusional confidence.
Misinterpreting Steven’s reaction as awe at his "perfect" form, the black-robed man proudly opened his abdominal cavity, exposing a mass of fused organs.
"See? With your physique, if you work with us, you could achieve an even greater evolution," the man said, his voice dripping with smugness.
He was confident that if his weak and fragile body could be enhanced to this level, then someone as monstrous as Steven could reach unimaginable heights.
But while Steven seemed indifferent, Gladia, standing nearby, reacted violently. Upon seeing the grotesque body, her expression turned murderous, as if someone had defiled something precious to her.
Her anger resembled that of an Italian seeing pineapple on pizza or a traditional Sichuan girl witnessing someone dump strawberries into mapo tofu. Even though she had lost her memory, her fury seemed instinctual.
"Wait until he finishes talking, then we’ll deal with him," Steven calmly said, raising a hand to stop the enraged girl.
His expression remained nonchalant as he reassured her, then turned back to the black-robed man. "About that cooperation you mentioned—we can discuss it later. Are you part of the so-called Church of the Deep?"
Steven’s question was mostly rhetorical. After all, the title above the man’s head clearly read [Church of the Deep Elite Priest]. Still, he was more interested in why Gladia reacted so strongly to these people.
The black-robed man, however, wasn’t naive. He had clearly heard Steven tell Gladia they’d deal with him later, which meant his odds of survival were slim.
"Without a guarantee of my safety, I’m not answering that," the man retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of control over the situation.
"Well, that’s unfortunate. Did you think the information you have is so valuable to me?" Steven shrugged indifferently, standing up and casually swinging his Netherite Sword.
He was genuinely curious how many strikes it would take to truly kill a creature like this. After all, it was better to test and prepare for similar encounters in the future.
"Wait! Aren’t you interested in the whereabouts of your Abyssal Hunter companion?" the man blurted, clearly panicked.
Despite his claims of being a higher life form, he wasn’t immortal. He couldn’t afford to bluff any longer.
"Oh? That I am curious about. Go on," Steven said, pausing mid-swing.
Even Gladia, who had looked ready to tear the man apart moments ago, quickly calmed down, her attention now focused on the answer.
Chapter 28: Chapter 28: The Fourth Guest
Chapter Text
"How do I know you won’t just kill me the moment I tell you everything?"
Seeing that Steven was finally interested, the cloaked man felt a wave of relief.
As long as there was still something to talk about, there was still room for negotiation.
"Hmm… that depends on whether your information is valuable enough."
Steven stroked his chin.
Honestly, if this matter didn’t involve Gladiia, he would’ve already chopped this guy into pieces and been done with it.
"How about this? I swear that if the information you provide is true, I absolutely won’t kill you. Does that satisfy you?"
After a brief moment of thought, Steven decided to give the cloaked man the assurance he wanted.
It wasn’t like he was good at interrogation techniques anyway.
Rather than waste time playing mind games, it was more efficient to just get the intel first.
As for the promise…
Well, technically, he wouldn't be breaking his word.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t bend the rules a little.
Fortunately, due to Steven’s previous laid-back and unpredictable demeanor, the cloaked man assumed he was just a powerful but rule-abiding person—
At the very least, not someone who would easily break his oath.
And right now, trusting Steven’s word was his only choice.
"Alright."
The headless body shifted slightly, turning toward Gladiia.
Even without eyes, he seemed to be examining her carefully.
"The one beside you… she’s a Abyssal Hunter too, isn’t she?"
"Cut to the point." Steven cut him off immediately.
He already knew Gladiia was a Abyssal Hunter—
Hell, he was the reason she lost her memories in the first place.
"…We captured another Abyssal Hunter."
"Half a year ago, a massive energy disturbance erupted in the deep sea. Afterward, we found a stranded Abyssal Hunter along the Iberian coastline."
The cloaked man didn’t mention one important detail—
Not long ago, another energy disturbance had been detected near the coast.
Which likely explained why the Inquisitors had shown up.
Of course, if he had mentioned it, Steven probably could’ve helped him understand the reason—
It was most likely because of his own arrival in this world.
"We captured that Hunter and conducted some… academic research."
The cloaked man instinctively took a step back, expecting Steven to explode in rage.
But surprisingly, Steven simply stood there calmly, waiting for him to continue.
Instead, it was Gladiia who reacted, her fists clenched tightly, eyes filled with rage and murderous intent.
It was as if she was experiencing a deep, inexplicable fury from a long-buried instinct.
Still, since Steven was holding her back, the cloaked man pressed on.
"And then?"
Steven’s expression remained neutral.
It was obvious what kind of "academic research" this cult was conducting.
Just looking at the monstrosities they had created was enough of a clue.
But in the end, it had nothing to do with him.
Steven had only come here for Gladiia’s sake, not for some random Abyssal Hunter he didn’t even know.
If it weren’t for his self-imposed mission of finding this amnesiac idiot’s real family, he wouldn’t have even bothered listening.
"The Abyssal Hunter’s physique is truly fascinating. Even after we injected her with a high concentration of condensed Originium liquid, she still didn’t show any signs of Oripathy. It’s simply unbelievable!"
As the cloaked man recalled his research, his tone shifted. His voice overflowed with obsession and madness, as if he was entirely consumed by his experiments.
"So her companion is still in your hands?"
Ignoring the cloaked man’s delirious excitement, Steven calmly pieced together the conclusion.
"No."
The cloaked man gritted his teeth.
"Not long ago, she was rescued by a group of people claiming to be from a medical company. But those bastards were worse than terrorists! They stormed our laboratory and violently snatched the Abyssal Hunter away from us!"
His tone grew venomous, seething with resentment.
It made sense.
If it weren’t for those people ruining their experiment and taking away their test subject, this cloaked man wouldn’t have been reassigned to this remote place.
And if he wasn’t here, he wouldn’t have run into Steven, the absolute disaster.
"Go on."
Steven’s interest was piqued.
A mysterious medical company that rescued an Abyssal Hunter?
That sounded… strangely familiar.
"That’s all I know. The specific research on that Abyssal Hunter was handled by my three superiors. I was just an ordinary researcher."
This time, the cloaked man wasn’t lying.
He wasn’t one of the lead researchers on the Abyssal Hunter experiment, a fact that still haunted him with regret.
"Where are your superiors?"
"And more importantly, who exactly was that group that took your test subject?"
Steven leaned forward slightly.
This felt just like a mystery game, slowly gathering clues, piece by piece.
As long as he didn’t hit a dead end, it was actually pretty fun.
Unfortunately, the worst possible scenario had arrived.
The cloaked man, who had answered every question so far, suddenly shut his mouth.
He wasn’t stupid.
He knew this was the most critical information.
Giving it up too easily would be putting his last bargaining chip on the table.
And right now, that chip was his only hope of surviving.
If he could just stall for time until his superiors noticed something was wrong…
Maybe—just maybe—he could be rescued.
"Until I can be sure of my safety, I don’t think I should say any more."
His voice carried undeniable distrust toward Steven.
Clearly, he wasn’t willing to continue the conversation.
"You might as well speak now."
A new voice echoed through the ruined chapel.
"Those who abandon the land and embrace the monsters of the deep… no longer have a place on this land."
A fourth guest had arrived.
Standing at the entrance of the old church was a young girl with short, light-green hair and cat-like ears.
She calmly stepped forward, answering Steven’s question in place of the cloaked man—
"The ones who saved your companion… were us—Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals."
Chapter 29: Chapter 29: The Cat Girl Without a Soul
Chapter Text
"Holy shit, cat head!"
The moment Steven saw the girl, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out a rather impolite nickname.
It wasn’t his fault.
Back in that fishing village, he had already noticed how the villagers all had some avian characteristics. That naturally led him to wonder—
Would this world have cat-eared girls, the universally recognized mascot of cute anime culture?
Once upon a time, back in his Minecraft days, Steven had installed a monster girl mod, turning his pet ocelot into a humanoid catgirl.
But in the end, she was just a cat in a girl’s body. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t interact with him.
The illusion was shattered the moment he realized the mod made even villagers less punchable.
So, he uninstalled it immediately.
After all, it was just a dream.
But now, standing right in front of him, this green-haired cat-eared girl was the real deal.
From her sharp feline pupils, to the way her adorable ears twitched at his rude comment—
She was a genuine catgirl.
At that moment, Steven forgot everything else—Abyssal Hunters, the Church of the Deep, all of it.
There was only one thought left in his mind:
One day, I have to pet this cat girl.
Not for any weird reason.
Just for the unfulfilled dream of his pre-isekai, anime-loving self.
As a self-proclaimed connoisseur of all things moe, how could he not want to pat a catgirl’s head?
And since she was the first cat girl he had encountered in this world, that automatically made her his prime target.
Even if the way she looked at him was anything but friendly.
In fact, it was downright cold.
"Sir, I would appreciate it if you refrained from using such… peculiar labels to address me. It is both disrespectful and lowers my evaluation of you."
She pulled her gaze away from the cloaked man and turned to face Steven.
Her voice was calm, but carried an unmistakable warning.
She was trying to figure out this bizarre young man in front of her.
No distinctive traits. No identifying markers.
Yet somehow, he reminded her of someone she really didn’t want to remember.
But one thing was certain—
Being called "cat head" was absolutely unacceptable.
"Uh… my bad, my bad. That was a slip of the tongue. Got a little too excited. Hope you understand, haha."
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Steven scratched his head and flashed an apologetic smile.
His excitement, however, quickly faded.
Not because of the warning in her eyes.
But because he had just noticed something critical.
She was missing something.
Something essential for any true catgirl.
A tail.
Beneath her strange, off-shoulder white coat, there was no sign of a flexible, swaying, ribbon-tied tail.
What kind of cat girl doesn’t have a tail?!
Steven refused to acknowledge this blasphemy.
This was like beef noodles without beef.
Sticky rice chicken without chicken.
Absolutely unacceptable.
And once he calmed down, Steven noticed something even stranger—
The girl before him didn’t have a single trace of “girlishness” to her.
Instead, she gave off the air of someone who had endured far too much, someone shaped and hardened by the passage of many years, maybe even centuries.
That’s weird…
Steven had thought only he would have this kind of weathered, time-worn aura—a side effect of spending centuries suffering in Minecraft.
But this girl, she looked even more ancient than him.
Just how many coats of green paint did it take for this old cucumber to look so fresh on the outside?
<+>
Kal'tsit narrowed her eyes at Steven.
It was obvious from his expression that he was thinking about something ridiculous.
She sighed and decided to deal with the current situation first before questioning this bizarre human.
“If possible, could you hand that man over to me?”
She gestured at the cloaked figure, who was still frozen in place.
Her voice wasn’t requesting, it was demanding.
“He is of no further use to you. In exchange, I will tell you what you want to know.”
Her tone carried no room for negotiation.
Unfortunately for her, Steven had a rebellious streak.
“But I already made a promise to him.”
He tapped his temple thoughtfully, looking as if he was actually considering the request.
Yet instead of handing over the captive, he stepped in front of him, blocking the cat-eared girl’s path.
“I always keep my word. If I promise something, I don’t go back on it.”
Steven turned his head and grinned at the cloaked figure behind him.
He even gave a thumbs-up, as if to say, "See? I got your back."
For a brief moment, the cloaked figure was touched.
But before he could savor that feeling, Steven’s next move stunned everyone present.
Out of nowhere, he pulled out a pitch-black, trident-like spear, and casually tossed it to the girl beside him—Gladiia.
“Like I said before—once he finishes talking, you can do whatever you want.”
His voice was still lighthearted, almost lazy.
But to the cloaked man, it sounded like pure ice.
A second later, his twisted, monstrous body was sliced clean in half.
<+>
Gladiia had been holding back her killing intent for too long.
Now that she had permission, she attacked instantly, like a furious beast unleashed.
With wild, instinctive swings, she ripped the cloaked figure apart, reducing him to nothing but shredded flesh and gore.
Steven simply stood there, watching with a smile, completely unconcerned about her violent outburst.
After all, Kids need to vent sometimes.
If she held it in too long, she might end up psychologically damaged.
As for whether that cloaked guy had any remaining secrets…
Steven couldn’t care less.
He was clearly unwilling to talk anyway.
And besides, sasn’t there a new information source standing right in front of him?
Steven turned back to the cold-faced cat-eared girl, pointing at the pile of minced flesh that was once their captive.
“So… about that deal you mentioned earlier—”
He flashed a grin.
“Still on the table? I don’t mind taking a little loss and asking fewer questions.”
Chapter 30: Chapter 30: A Battle of Wits
Chapter Text
The green-haired girl clearly hadn’t expected Steven to do something like this right in front of her.
But, she didn’t try to stop him.
Instead, she simply stood there, quietly watching alongside him as Gladiia turned the cloaked man into a pile of shredded flesh.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Her voice was calm, without judgment.
“This won’t earn you Rhodes Island’s favor. Killing isn’t the only way to solve problems. He still had value left to be used—yet you chose to waste it.”
Steven wasn’t sure if she was criticizing him or just making an observation.
Either way, he didn’t really care.
“Oh, I think he still has value.”
Steven glanced down at what was left of the cloaked man.
Then, as if worried the guy might somehow revive, he took a moment to think it over and casually pulled out a flint and steel.
Just in case.
With a sharp click, a one-meter-tall flame roared to life, engulfing the pile of flesh.
A second later, the scent of grilled fish filled the air.
<+>
Gladiia, now calm again, returned to Steven’s side.
She quietly grabbed the edge of his cloak, holding onto it like a child.
Her curious gaze locked onto the green-haired, cat-eared girl standing before them.
Looking at her now, it was hard to believe she was the same person who had just ripped apart the cloaked man like a living meat grinder.
Maybe she had already forgotten what she had done.
“Now that the matter of that Church of the Deep follower is settled—”
Kal'tsit turned her sharp gaze toward Steven.
“It’s time we talk about the one standing beside you. She isn’t supposed to be like this.”
She had come for Gladiia, not for Steven.
By all rights, the one negotiating with her right now should have been the girl herself.
But things had already deviated from her expectations.
Now, all she could do was try to make sense of the mysterious young man standing before her.
And from what she had seen so far, he was far more unpredictable than anyone she had ever met.
Kal'tsit prided herself on her knowledge and experience.
She had encountered all sorts of strange people in her life.
But someone like Steven, this “carefree” kind of person?
This was a first.
There was no attachment in his eyes, not to this world, and not even to Gladiia, the girl he had just protected.
To him, she was just something he had taken responsibility for.
There might be some feelings involved, but it wasn’t deep.
The girl’s golden pupils flickered.
A person like this…
Could such a detached existence truly emerge from this cursed land?
Steven, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? You know her?”
He tilted his head toward Gladiia.
If this girl really knew her, maybe she could help recover her lost memories.
But Kal'tsit shook her head.
“I have no direct connection to her.”
Her voice remained cold, distant.
“But I know of her. And I know the tragedy of her wretched race.”
Her gaze darkened.
“I never thought the suffering of her kin would repeat itself—on her.”
Compared to the unfathomable Steven,
Gladiia’s condition was far easier for Kal'tsit to understand.
Her years of medical experience told her that this Abyssal Hunter had likely suffered serious damage to her brain and memory, reducing her to this childlike state.
A condition eerily similar to another Abyssal Hunter, one who was still lying in the Rhodes Island medical ward at this very moment.
The only real difference was that the other girl clearly hadn’t been as lucky as Gladiia—
She didn’t have a strong guardian like Steven protecting her.
“Okay, hold up—can you talk like a normal person?”
Steven’s grin dropped.
“I mean, I get what you’re saying, but why does it sound like I’m doing a freaking reading comprehension test?”
He was a talkative guy, but this kind of conversation?
Not his thing.
Kal'tsit cast him a sidelong glance.
“My way of speaking is perfectly fine. You understand me, don’t you? That means our conversation isn’t hindered.”
“Just as I cannot interfere with your choices, you cannot interfere with my freedom of speech.”
Damn.
Steven sucked in a sharp breath.
She got him.
This wasn’t just some random know-it-all—
This girl knew how to play the game.
Her verbal skills might even be on par with his own.
Steven’s lips curled into a small, intrigued smirk.
“Alright. But this really isn’t the best place for a chat, is it?”
“How about we go somewhere else, get some beer, and talk things through properly?”
A proper battle of wits—
That sounded fun.
Kal'tsit thought for a moment before giving a small nod.
She agreed.
But then, she immediately added something else.
“I accept your proposal. But before that, we must erase this vile breeding ground.
The filth that has parasitized this land must not be allowed to spread.”
Steven rubbed his temples.
“So… basically, you mean we need to destroy the evidence?”
He had finally found the flaw in his Language Localization Mod.
It could probably decode the whispers of eldritch abominations, but when it came to riddle-spewing, cryptic weirdos like her?
Useless.
Might as well not translate at all.
Just as Steven was wondering whether she expected him to do the job, something slithered out from behind her.
A serpentine creature, its body composed of crystalline mineral-like segments, emerged from the shadows.
It floated in midair, completely ignoring the pull of gravity.
Its form and movement reminded Steven of a Pokémon from his past life—
Steelix.
Except this thing had sharp, blade-like limbs, making it look even deadlier.
If he had to describe it in one word—
Freaking badass.
“Mon3tr. Clean up the scene.”
Kal'tsit finally spoke a short and simple command.
A second later, the floating crystal beast opened its jaws, unleashing a torrent of flames.
The dilapidated church was instantly engulfed, consumed by the fire.
Steven followed the girl as she walked away, but his eyes never left Mon3tr. still spewing fire, still hovering in midair, looking like the coolest thing he had ever seen.
After a long moment of hesitation, Steven finally asked the most important question on his mind:
“—That thing’s sick as hell. Can I buy it off you?”
Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Woman, You Have Caught My Attention
Chapter Text
"The scent of an Abyssal Hunter lingers on you. Her blood attracts disaster. If you wish to avoid being harassed by the creatures of the ocean, you must cleanse yourself of this filth."
Ignoring Steven's completely pointless question, the green-haired girl leading the way pointed out the hidden danger on him.
Steven didn’t mind, though.
After all, anything that looked as powerful as that was definitely not something people would casually sell.
However, the fact that the blood of an Abyssal Hunter could attract monsters—that was new information to him.
No wonder that group of Sea Terror from the village had chased them so relentlessly, as if they had caught his scent. So, it was because Gladiia had coughed up blood on him?
Turning back, he pinched the innocent-looking Gladiia’s small face.
Steven realized that ever since he came to this world, at least half of the trouble he had gotten into could be traced back to her.
Luckily, she was just a naive, silly girl who only knew how to call him "Dad." If she had been the cold or tsundere type, Steven would have run away without a second thought.
Let someone else deal with that—he wasn’t the kind of guy who lost all reason at the sight of a woman.
Of course, the more important reason was that he was the one who had knocked her silly. He had to take responsibility, after all.
After checking his status screen and confirming that this so-called "scent" wasn’t an official status effect, he took a bucket of water from his inventory and poured it over himself.
The green-haired girl, who had paused to watch his odd behavior, locked eyes with him.
"Does it still smell now?"
Steven wanted to confirm, as he wasn’t sure how to judge something that wasn’t a clear status effect.
The cat-eared girl shook her head slightly.
The scent on him had already faded with time, and after a rinse with water, there was no longer a need to worry about sea creatures tracking him.
But more than that, what truly intrigued her was where Steven had pulled that full bucket of water from.
She had seen plenty of Originium Arts that could create water out of thin air, but conjuring a bucket along with it? He was the first.
"Hmm, that’s good then. But I’m curious—how do you know about these things? Have you studied Abyssal Hunters before?"
Feigning casual curiosity, Steven glanced at the title floating above the girl’s head:
[Rhodes Island Medical Department Head: Kal'tsit]
If he remembered correctly, this was the organization the protagonist belonged to.
Which meant that by following her, he had a high chance of progressing along the main storyline.
That would solve the problem of earning WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) in the future.
Sure, with his current strength, he could handle most problems even without those various system mods. But it would still be a hassle.
As for forcibly activating mods despite the world’s resistance?
It wasn’t impossible.
He wasn’t someone the world’s will could just reject and be done with. It was just a world will—he had destroyed those before.
But precisely because of this, Steven chose to temporarily abide by the restrictions imposed on him by this world’s will.
After all, when it came to the consequences of fighting a world's will head-on, probably no one understood them better than he did.
At the very least, keeping this already unstable world intact was difficult enough.
If a world’s will were to perish, the entire world would lose its future as well.
That was why, in the later stages, Steven eventually returned to his solitary, original survival mode—because without a world capable of new life, what would even be left?
That went against his very reason for staying in this world in the first place.
He came here to enjoy life, not to destroy it.
Besides, this world was different from Minecraft.
In Minecraft, the native inhabitants didn’t really have self-awareness.
Even if they got caught up in a battle between Steven and the world’s will, they would just respawn after dying.
But the people of this world weren’t like that.
Steven considered himself a thrill-seeker, but he wasn’t so reckless as to ruin an entire world just for his own amusement.
So, as long as the world’s will didn’t go too far in targeting him, he was more than happy to play by its rules.
It was just like playing a massive Minecraft modpack—if you wanted a real experience, you had to follow the progression step by step. If you started in creative mode and pulled everything out of thin air, what was the point? No fun in that.
Of course, that was assuming the mod wasn’t full of annoying mechanics designed purely to frustrate players.
If things got too unbearable, Steven had no issue bending the rules a little.
As for whether his presence caused the plot to go completely off the rails?
He didn’t care.
Wasn’t that the best part?
“I know everyth—”
A voice interrupted Steven’s thoughts.
The green-haired girl hesitated for a moment before adjusting her words.
“I have knowledge of all that happens on this land. Whether it’s the Ægir Hunters or Church of the Deep cultists who consort with monsters—I know of them all.”
Perhaps a moment ago, she could have confidently claimed to know everything, but after meeting Steven—someone she simply could not see through—she chose a more reserved approach.
“Oh? So you’re saying you know everything about what happens on land?”
Steven summarized her words for her.
Even Google didn’t dare claim to have all the answers—where did she get the confidence?
He wasn’t just being argumentative; he was genuinely curious.
But to his surprise, the cat-eared girl, Kal'tsit, actually hesitated for a brief moment before nodding slightly.
“Your wording may be slightly inaccurate, but in essence, yes.”
“Heh… Then tell me this—what race do you think I am?”
Steven chuckled. He was quite curious to hear her answer.
So far, nearly everyone who had met him had assumed he was one of those Ægir.
To be honest, Steven himself still wasn’t sure what race he belonged to.
If this supposedly omniscient woman could answer that, it would actually clear up a lot of things for him.
“You…”
Kal'tsit’s green pupils reflected Steven’s full form.
After a brief moment of hesitation, she finally spoke her conclusion:
“You are not human.”
“…Hah?”
“Your race does not belong to this land, nor to any species in this world. You are not human—or perhaps, you are the only true human.”
Hearing her words, the casual expression on Steven’s face gradually turned into a smile.
This woman, who claimed to know everything…
She was interesting.
Chapter 32: Chapter 32: A Man's Competitive Spirit
Chapter Text
In a certain sense, what this cat-eared girl named Kal’tsit said wasn’t entirely wrong.
Right now, he could no longer be considered a human, yet compared to the other inhabitants of this world, he was the most authentic human possible.
However, given her riddle-spewing tendencies, Steven wasn’t about to take her words at face value and assume she truly knew everything.
After all, if you boiled her statement down, it was basically a meaningless platitude.
"Maybe it’s true, maybe it’s not."—most questions in the world could be answered with this kind of vague nonsense.
So, Steven simply smiled and tossed out another question.
“Well then, Kal’tsit, do you happen to know how I learned your real name?”
By bringing up a question tied to his Minecraft interface, Steven was curious about her answer.
If she could actually tell him that he saw her title using the Entity Information Display Mod, he might consider acknowledging her so-called claim of ‘knowing everything’.
Otherwise, he’d just think she was capable, but not as all-knowing as she claimed.
“…”
“I don’t know.”
Kal’tsit delivered her plain answer without hesitation.
Yet, there wasn’t a single trace of surprise on her face at hearing Steven call out her name.
Nor did she show the awkwardness or embarrassment that someone should have after getting exposed.
She acted like she was a completely different person from the one who had just claimed to know everything.
“Heh~ then next time, you might want to choose your words more carefully.”
Steven grinned.
"You can eat recklessly, but you shouldn’t speak recklessly."
“For a moment there, I almost thought you even knew what I had for breakfast this morning.”
But just as he finished speaking, Kal’tsit casually responded.
“You had black bread—a specialty of Iberia’s villages. It contains a higher proportion of sawdust than wheat bran.”
“And, you’re quite lucky—the villager who baked it used fresh sawdust, rather than some random scrap from a sweat-soaked piece of furniture.”
She flawlessly called out exactly what he ate.
Even down to details Steven himself didn’t know.
Though honestly, he’d have preferred not knowing.
Now it was Steven’s turn to be stunned.
For some reason, he had the distinct feeling that this woman was holding a grudge.
Was she really this petty?
All because he asked her something she didn’t know?
…Nah, that’d be too childish… right?
“…Alright, let’s get back on track.”
Steven thought for a moment and decided that verbally sparring with this enigmatic woman was pointless.
It was better to deal with business first—he could always chat with her later.
After all, if there was one thing Steven had plenty of, it was time.
“I fully agree with your suggestion.”
Kal’tsit nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“Compared to such trivial inquiries, one’s brief life should be focused on more meaningful matters.”
Not only that, but she even graciously extended her hand toward Steven, striking a refined pose.
“I will answer any question.”
“…Really?”
Steven smirked.
“Then tell me—can I buy that thing behind you? That ‘Mon3tr’ of yours—does anyone sell the same model?”
“…”
“No.”
“It’s not for sale.”
Perfect.
He scored another win.
Kal’tsit hadn't expected this guy to ask such a ridiculous question at such a serious and formal moment…
No wonder she couldn’t see through him.
Was there something wrong with his brain?
But Steven didn’t care.
Wearing the satisfaction of victory on his face, he finally asked the real key question.
“So, Kal’tsit, what exactly are you here for? Are you planning to ‘rescue’ the Abyssal Hunter by my side as well?”
Steven turned his head slightly, glancing at Gladiia, who had visibly tensed at the mention of being taken away.
If she herself wasn’t willing…
Then he would have no choice but to turn down this Rhodes Island woman.
Even if it meant ruining his plan to follow their organization and leech off the main storyline.
But between his adopted daughter and some random medical corporation, was there even a choice to make?
It was obvious who he’d pick.
“I’m only here to find my operator’s missing kin,” Kal’tsit responded calmly.
“But perhaps, in her current state, she doesn’t need rescue—she needs treatment.”
She briefly glanced at the girl hiding behind Steven, who was eyeing her warily.
Kal’tsit sighed.
This fragile, hesitant girl was nothing like the strong, decisive Abyssal Hunter she had envisioned.
She must have suffered a horrific attack to end up like this.
Such a tragic race… always plagued by an even more tragic fate.
“Well, that’s up to her.”
Steven shrugged.
“If you can actually cure her, I’d even thank you for it.”
If Rhodes Island really had the means to restore Gladiia’s lost memories, it’d save him a lot of trouble.
Though… if she regained her memories, she probably wouldn’t recognize him as her dad anymore.
But that just meant he wouldn’t have to worry about her as much.
A win-win, really.
Of course, this all depended on whether Gladiia was willing to trust Kal’tsit.
And right now, she was far from that point.
Luckily, Kal’tsit understood this.
After gaining Steven’s approval, she stepped forward, approaching Gladiia with steady, measured steps.
“I don’t know how much you can remember right now.”
“But your comrades still need you.”
“Laurentina. Skadi. They’re waiting for you to return.”
“Your subordinates need your guidance. And you—will you choose to run away from that responsibility?”
At the mention of those two names, a flash of confusion appeared in Gladiia’s eyes.
It was as if something within her mind was beginning to stir—awakening.
She even managed to overcome some of her fear toward Kal’tsit.
“…Dad.”
She tugged at Steven’s sleeve, hesitantly.
“I… I want to meet the people she mentioned. Is that okay?”
Her hopeful gaze met Steven’s eyes.
“Of course.”
Steven smiled, his voice casual.
“Do whatever you want. After all, I’m your dad, aren’t I?”
He had already said it—he had no objections to any of this.
With Gladiia’s agreement, Kal’tsit’s gaze shifted from her to Steven.
She pursed her lips slightly before speaking.
“In that case… may I ask you something now?”
This mysterious young man—wrapped in layers of secrets—had finally managed to pique even her curiosity.
“Sorry, but I won’t accept any love confession, I still have some adventure left to do before settling down.”
Kal’tsit’s expression froze in pure confusion.
He scored another point again
Chapter 33: Chapter 33: Do I Really Look That Badass?
Chapter Text
“You have a poor sense of timing when it comes to jokes. It only makes communication between us more difficult.”
After clearing her throat to ease the awkwardness, Kal’tsit maintained a serious expression as she locked eyes with Steven.
“I have already explained my purpose to you. In return, could you tell me—what exactly are you here for?”
Her gaze carried an unmistakable wariness.
Perhaps, at first, Kal’tsit had come solely for Gladiia.
But from the moment she laid eyes on Steven, that objective had shifted.
Even Dario from the Inquisition had noticed the overwhelming killing intent lingering around Steven—so thick it felt as if he had slaughtered an entire world.
And Kal’tsit, who had lived even longer and experienced far more, could hardly miss it.
But what she saw in Steven was even more terrifying than that.
—It was a mark, the kind only left behind when one had slain creatures akin to a Feranmuts or even gods.
This meant that the man standing in front of her, who appeared so carefree, so playful, was possibly more dangerous than the horrors lurking beneath the ocean’s depths.
From their interactions so far, Kal’tsit had already deduced something crucial—
Steven’s actions and decisions often defied logic.
And the only thing scarier than a bomb, was a bomb with its fuse removed, yet no one knew when it would explode.
What made her even more uneasy was that she had yet to find a way to prevent this particular bomb from detonating.
Against the Seaborn, she could still rely on Iberia’s Inquisition and the Ægir Abyssal Hunters.
Against the ancient monstrosities roaming the land, there were still government organizations dedicated to suppressing them.
But this man?
Even without having witnessed his strength firsthand, Kal’tsit could sense the sheer fear radiating from Mon3tr—something that could not be faked.
Even when facing the flaming titan of Surtr, or the Feranmut of Operator Mostima, Mon3tr had never reacted this way before.
More importantly, Kal’tsit’s instincts screamed at her—
Steven was a bomb she must never set off.
Because the consequences would be beyond what this world could handle.
And if things did go south, she certainly couldn’t count on that amnesiac Abyssal Hunter beside him to talk some sense into him.
More likely than not, if Steven set the world on fire, Gladiia would probably be right there beside him, helping him throw in more wood.
That was precisely why Kal’tsit had tolerated his nonsense for this long.
“No need to be so formal,” Steven grinned.
“If you don’t mind, just call me Steve.”
“As for my purpose? Well, for now, it’s just to help this one recover.”
“Other than that, I don’t have much of a plan. I guess I’ll just wander around, see interesting things, and have fun?”
He scratched his head.
Honestly, Kal’tsit had asked a good question.
Because he himself didn’t really know what his ultimate goal was.
Maybe he just wanted the world to gradually accept him—so he could turn on ‘fun mode’ and enjoy himself.
“Oh, by the way—about ten minutes ago, the thing I wanted to do most was rub those cute cat ears of yours.”
“Unfortunately…”
Steven clasped his hands together in a monk-like pose, looking genuinely solemn.
“I have since transcended such worldly desires.”
If communication should be sincere and open, then surely the girl in front of him would be deeply moved after hearing his heartfelt words, right?
“……”
Kal’tsit, who had just been contemplating what Steven meant by "interesting things," found herself completely speechless at his follow-up statement.
Was this really something one could just say out loud?
Even if he truly felt that way, shouldn’t he have kept it to himself?
“Should I be thanking you for restraining your desires… rather than experiencing the instinctive disgust a normal woman would feel?”
After a brief silence, Kal’tsit finally chose to respond to Steven in her own way.
Sure, he was dangerous, but judging from their conversation, he wasn’t as terrifying as she had initially thought.
He wasn’t someone impossible to communicate with, just difficult.
And in some ways, he was actually… fairly reasonable.
At the very least, she had yet to see any of his actions match the overwhelming killing intent she had sensed from him earlier.
If anything, Steven seemed more like an eccentric chatterbox with an unpredictable thought process.
“Suit yourself. That’s your choice.”
Steven raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised at how patient Kal’tsit was.
Since she didn’t give much of a reaction, his entertainment value had gone down significantly.
“Well then, when do you plan on bringing this Abyssal Hunter to Rhodes Island for treatment? Our aircraft is parked nearby—we can leave anytime.”
Kal’tsit took a moment to ponder how to handle Steven—this walking enigma—before making a risky decision.
Under normal circumstances, she never would have allowed someone as dangerous as Steven to board Rhodes Island, even if the goal was to treat Gladiia.
But risks sometimes come with rewards.
And Kal’tsit’s instincts told her that if she could establish a good relationship with this mysterious individual, the benefits might be equally as great as the risks.
She had already seen proof of this with a certain individual from Yan.
Perhaps, under different circumstances, she wouldn’t have gambled like this.
But Rhodes Island’s current situation left her no choice.
She had to do everything she could to ensure its survival.
“Eh? When did I say I was going with her? She’s the one with the issue, not me.”
Steven blinked, taken aback by the invitation.
Sure, he had been thinking about finding a way to hitch a ride with Rhodes Island, but…
Why was she the one actively offering him a spot?
Was she… interested in him?
Did she have some kind of ulterior motive?
Steven’s instincts kicked in immediately—he wasn’t going to agree just yet.
“Rhodes Island won’t be staying in Iberia for long. I don’t believe that you trust us enough to leave her alone with us.”
Kal’tsit paused for a moment before adding,
“Besides…”
“I hope that Rhodes Island can earn your goodwill and friendship, Mr. Steve.”
Steven’s expression became… odd.
Usually, in stories, wasn’t a newcomer like him supposed to get mocked, underestimated, or even suppressed?
Wasn’t this the perfect setup for some face-slapping moment?
Why was his experience completely different?
The High Inquisitor didn’t give him any trouble.
And now, this cryptic doctor was treating him with courtesy?
Does he really look that badass from the outside?
Chapter 34: Chapter 34: Maybe He Really Is That Badass
Chapter Text
In the end, Steven still didn’t leave with Kal’tsit.
It wasn’t because he rejected her offer.
Nor was it because he didn’t want to rack up more WAP (World Acknowledgement Point).
It was simply because he still had unfinished business.
“I understand what you’re saying. If you don’t mind, I’m happy to accompany her to your so-called Rhodes Island—but before that, I need to fulfill my oath.”
“I also promised an Inquisitor that I’d return with her to the Inquisition for interrogation.”
Once again, Steven’s reasoning left Kal’tsit speechless.
A man who actually keeps his word? In this day and age?
Did he think going to the Inquisition was some kind of fun field trip?
Was he eager to go to prison or something?
Where did this law-abiding model citizen even come from?
But since he had already made up his mind, there was nothing more for Kal’tsit to say.
She simply nodded in response.
“Rhodes Island’s aircraft will wait for you until you’ve settled your promises. Once you’re done, meet us in the nearest town.”
With that, Kal’tsit turned and left, accompanied by Mon3tr.
She wasn’t worried about Steven getting detained by the Inquisition.
After all, if she could see through him, then there was no way that old Saint leading the Inquisition’s forces wouldn’t.
No one in their right mind would provoke a monster like Steven for no reason.
Not after the calamity Iberia had suffered.
The Inquisition was perhaps the most cautious ruling body in the region precisely because of that disaster.
At most, Kal’tsit was just… baffled by Steven’s strange enthusiasm for getting himself locked up.
Of course, none of this mattered to Steven.
He had no idea that, in Kal’tsit’s mind, he had already become some kind of bizarre enigma.
Right now, his only concern was finding a place to rest with Gladiia while waiting for a certain Iberian Inquisitor to come and pick him up.
Surely, she wouldn’t just ditch him, right?
She did promise, after all.
And if she flaked, well… Steven’s favorable impression of the Inquisition would go down considerably.
Luckily, Steven and Gladiia had barely settled under a shady tree for half an hour before they were found—by a squad of soldiers dressed like Western knights.
“Oh? A fight is incoming?”
Steven immediately sat up from where he was resting on Gladiia’s lap, eyes flashing with excitement.
But when he got a clear look at the uniforms they were wearing…
He simply flopped back down again.
Just from their outfits, it was obvious that these men belonged to the Penal Battalion that Irene had mentioned earlier.
Unless they were completely blind, there was no way they’d start a fight with him.
Which meant Steven had no chance to show off his strength.
In that case…
Might as well stay put and wait for Irene to pick him up.
As for having Gladiia serve as his human pillow?
Steven didn’t feel bad about that at all.
It wasn’t like he was taking advantage of her or anything.
Did she even realize how much trouble she’d caused him?
Letting him enjoy a lap pillow was the least she could do!
Of course, Gladiia had no complaints.
If anything, being able to let her “father” rest on her lap made her feel…
Warm. Happy. Close.
Like she was cherishing an intimate moment with someone she deeply cared about.
And so, this bizarre father-daughter duo continued their leisurely nap in front of a whole squad of Iberian soldiers, utterly unbothered by their presence.
For their part, the soldiers were utterly dumbfounded by the scene.
They had no idea how they were supposed to handle this situation.
Thankfully, their commander had the sense to contact his superior.
As a result, Irene arrived on the scene shortly after.
Even from a great distance, the young Inquisitor spotted him—Steven, sprawled out like a lazy salted fish, basking in the sun on Gladiia’s long, slender thighs.
At first, Irene had felt a tiny bit relieved to see that he was safe and sound.
But that feeling vanished instantly.
Because just looking at his face was already making her irritated.
Why was this guy so… absurd?
She had gone through all that trouble, reuniting with the lost Penal Battalion, reporting to the High Inquisitor, and the first thing on her mind after that?
Finding this idiot.
And what was he doing?
Oh, just abandoning her in a dangerous place so he could kick back and slack off here, of course.
Irene marched over to him, hands on her slim waist, her presence casting a shadow over his sunbathing spot.
After instructing the Penal Battalion to stand down, she finally spoke:
“Shouldn’t you be saying something to me? Like, oh, I don’t know—an apology? Maybe an explanation?”
Steven reluctantly sat up from Gladiia’s lap, stretching lazily before flashing Irene a grinning, carefree expression.
“A wise and understanding Inquisitor like yourself wouldn’t hold a grudge over something so small, right? Besides, look at me—I’m obediently waiting for you to arrest me, aren’t I?”
For a moment, Irene was too stunned to respond.
Then Steven chuckled and continued:
“You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through after we got separated. If you knew, the Inquisition would have no choice but to award me a Model Citizen medal or something.”
Compared to playing mind games with someone like Kal’tsit, Steven clearly preferred teasing the little Iberian bird in front of him.
Watching Irene try to keep a stern face—her cheeks puffed up in frustration—while desperately maintaining her Inquisitorial dignity?
Now that was entertaining.
His mood improved just watching her struggle.
Irene let out a sigh, tilting her head back in exasperation before cutting straight to the point.
“I’d love to hear all about it, but right now, you need to come with me. You’re not just meeting me—there’s someone very important who wants to see you.”
Steven immediately raised an eyebrow at that.
But he wasn’t one to break a promise.
“Of course. I already agreed to go with you, didn’t I? If not for that, I’d have bolted ages ago, you know.”
Dusting off the grass from his clothes, Steven stood up and fell into step behind Irene without a fuss.
Irene glanced back at him.
“Am I supposed to thank you for that?”
Steven grinned.
“Obviously.”
And just like that, the bickering began.
Sometimes, building relationships was surprisingly easy.
After facing danger together, the initial distance between them had faded.
They no longer felt like an Inquisitor and a prisoner, but rather, like companions.
Maybe even… friends.
Steven liked that feeling.
Chatting with Irene felt nostalgic, like the times he used to banter with a certain deskmate back in his original world.
Lighthearted. Familiar. Comforting.
As for Irene, despite being constantly bombarded by Steven’s endless chatter, she wasn’t as annoyed as she thought she’d be.
Maybe because, for someone so isolated by her status, this kind of casual interaction was something she rarely experienced.
She found herself getting used to it.
Unfortunately, all good conversations must come to an end.
Before they knew it, Irene had already led Steven and Gladiia back to the village.
Waiting for them there was High Inquisitor Dario and another man.
An elderly but still towering, broad-shouldered figure, his white hair betraying his age.
Yet, his presence alone spoke of immense authority.
The old man was the first to greet Steven.
With flawless politeness, he said—
“Hello.”
And at that moment, Steven understood something.
Something very, very important.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
He really did look pretty damn badass from the outside.
Chapter 35: Chapter 35: One Pork Chop Rice, Please
Chapter Text
"Does my presence trouble you, Mr. Steven?"
Seeing the strange, conflicted expression on Steven’s face, the white-haired old man paused, clearly puzzled by his reaction.
"No, no, this has nothing to do with you, Elder. It’s my fault. It’s all on me."
It’s my fault for being too damn impressive.
Steven let out a regretful sigh.
He still couldn’t figure out how these high-ranking guys always had such sharp instincts.
Aren’t bigshots supposed to be short-sighted?
How else would they clash with the protagonist in a classic story?
If this old man was going to be so polite, then even someone like Steven—who loved stirring up chaos—couldn’t just pick a fight for no reason.
"That’s good to hear. My name is Carmen, one of Iberia’s Saints and the highest-ranking commander of this operation."
Carmen gave Steven a gentle smile.
Time had carved deep lines onto the old man’s face, yet his once-handsome and powerful features still remained faintly visible.
But Steven didn’t care about any of that.
He didn’t even care about this old man’s status.
What he did care about, however, was how to make himself seem weaker.
With everyone treating him so respectfully, how was he supposed to find any fun in this?
So, Steven simply nodded halfheartedly.
"Then, Your Excellency Saint, are you planning to escort me and my daughter to the Inquisition?"
He finally asked the important question.
After all, Steven had been looking forward to seeing what the Inquisition was like.
Carmen shook his head gracefully, exuding the kind of elegance that only an old gentleman could.
"I don’t believe that will be necessary. A friend of mine has already told me about you and the Abyssal Hunter accompanying you. Since neither of you have violated Iberian law, there is no need for an Inquisition trial."
Steven’s eyebrows twitched.
A friend?
There was only one person he could think of who knew about his situation.
"Your friend… would that be a certain green-haired, cat-eared, age-defying granny?"
Carmen blinked, momentarily stunned.
But then, as the words clicked together, realization dawned—
And he burst into hearty laughter.
"Pfft—Hahahahaha! Mr. Steven, you truly have a sense of humor!"
For the first time in many years, Carmen laughed so openly that even Dario and Irene seemed a little surprised.
The Saint’s usual caution had visibly loosened, his guard lowered by several degrees.
The overly polite tone from before was gone, replaced by something more natural.
"Yes, you’re absolutely right—it was that green-haired, cat-eared lady."
It was the first time he had ever heard someone describe her like that.
Carmen just couldn’t stop smiling.
"She assured me that neither you nor your companion are involved with the Church of the Deep. In fact, she even told me you helped us eliminate one of their hidden strongholds in this village. If anything, I should be thanking you."
"They came after me first. No need for thanks—I wasn’t doing it out of goodwill."
Steven waved his hand dismissively.
Now that Kal’tsit had explained things for him, it was clear that there wouldn’t be any chaos to enjoy.
Which was a shame, really, he had waited so long for the Inquisition’s people to show up,
And this was all he got?
The elder who called himself Carmen simply smiled as he watched Steven’s bored expression.
Now he finally understood why even someone like Kal’tsit would call him a strange person.
Looking at him now… she was absolutely right.
From his demeanor and speech, one really couldn’t tell that Steven was some terrifying humanoid monster.
If anything, he was almost like a carefree tourist.
But the killing intent hidden beneath his skin?
That was something even the sharpest disguise couldn’t fully erase.
These two contradictory auras somehow coexisted within one person—
And now Carmen understood exactly why Kal’tsit had described him that way.
"If you really want to thank me—"
Steven scratched his head, completely unaware of the elder’s internal analysis.
Instead, he seriously made a small request.
"Then buy me a pork chop rice."
His tone was so casual that it took a second for the others to process.
Then, in the midst of Carmen’s and the two Inquisitors’ confused expressions,
Steven patted his stomach and stated matter-of-factly:
"Come on, I’m already at the Inquisition’s place. If I don’t do anything, wouldn’t that just be a shame?"
"Hah? Do you even hear yourself right now?"
Irene had been holding back this whole time, but this was just too much.
She had expected Steven to demand something outrageous, after all, someone with his level of skill could easily use this situation to bargain for resources from the Inquisition.
But pork chop rice?
Seriously?
What did he think the Inquisition was?
A family restaurant? A street food stall?
"Mm. Actually, if possible, make that four—no, five portions. One for my daughter, two for me, and the rest for takeout."
Steven raised five fingers, his expression completely dead serious.
Carmen blinked, then, his lips curled into a smile.
"Of course. That’s what you deserve."
The elder nodded slightly, his gaze filled with intrigue.
This young man...
Now this is interesting.
It had been a long time since Carmen had met such an amusing person.
After the great calamity, every child born into this country had grown up under a shadow they could never escape.
But Steven?
He was different.
"Just so you know—once I eat, I’m leaving."
Steven mentally sighed at how patient these old folks were.
Whether it was Kal’tsit or this old man, neither of them had been cooperative with his usual antics.
Not like Irene—that little Iberian songbird was way more fun to mess with.
"That is your choice."
Carmen kept his gentle smile, looking every bit like a kindly old grandpa from next door.
But then, his gaze subtly shifted to another part of the village.
"However, it seems that not everyone wants to let you and your companion leave so easily."
A distant clash of steel echoed through the air.
Low, unnatural deep-sea growls followed close behind.
Trouble had arrived.
But, once again, Steven was the first to charge toward it.
Not only that—
He even shouted mid-run:
"LEAVE THIS TO ME!"
The frustration of missing out on two fights had been eating away at him.
Right now?
Steven just wanted to let loose.
And if a bunch of sea monsters were coming straight to him for a beating?
That was just perfect timing.
He was itching for a fight.
Chapter 36: Chapter 36: Speak of the Devil
Chapter Text
Steven wasn’t entirely sure how this batch of Seaborn found him.
According to Kal’tsit, the scent of Gladiia’s blood on him should have already faded.
By all logic, these monsters shouldn’t have been coming after him anymore.
But honestly?
That wasn’t important.
Right now, he just wanted a fight.
Like a human missile, Steven launched himself straight into the front lines, where the Penal Battalion was clashing with the monsters.
With a deafening crash, his Netherite Sword smashed into the ground.
The sheer impact force spread out like a shockwave, splitting the battlefield.
The Penal Battalion soldiers and the Seaborn were forcibly separated, now standing on opposite sides.
For a moment, all eyes locked onto Steven.
Their gazes were a mix of emotions—
Shock.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
But Steven wasn’t afraid of being the center of attention.
If anything, he loved it.
Wasn’t this exactly the kind of spotlight a successful isekai protagonist was supposed to enjoy?
Casually gripping his sword, he yanked it free from where it had buried itself deep into the ground.
The Netherite Sword gleamed under the dim light as he swept his gaze across the bizarre, grotesque sea creatures before him.
And then he spotted it.
Even among these abstract horrors, there was one creature that stood out—
A leader, no doubt.
Not because of its size.
Not because of its appearance.
But because on his minimap, every other monster showed up as a red dot.
This one?
It had a skull icon.
And everyone knows that’s reserved for elite mobs in every good mod pack.
Steven grinned.
"Alright then—one-on-one. Or, more accurately—I’ll take all of you on at once."
With undisguised arrogance, he leveled his sword tip toward what could vaguely be called the creature’s head.
He didn’t care if it understood him or not, a provocation was a provocation.
Meanwhile, behind him, the Penal Battalion soldiers hesitated, only to be stopped by Carmen and the two Inquisitors, who had finally arrived late to the scene.
Without another word, they let Steven have the stage.
After all, Carmen was curious to see just how powerful the man Kal’tsit feared so much truly was.
But Steven wasn’t interested in waiting around.
Before his words had even finished leaving his mouth, he had already vanished, leaving behind nothing but a fading afterimage.
He dived straight into the horde.
He didn’t want to give these monsters a chance to start talking.
If one of them suddenly pulled a "Hello, we are friends" on him, he swore he’d lose it.
Better to not risk it.
And so—
He swung.
There was no complex technique.
No formal swordsmanship.
No special combat style.
Just raw, brutal power.
With nothing but his own strength, Steven hacked his way through the horde like a walking lawnmower, carving a bloody path through the battlefield.
It didn’t matter what kind of sea monster they were.
It didn’t matter how big or small.
As long as they stood in his way, one of them survived a single swing.
One horizontal slash, and four or five creatures were cleaved in half.
This was absolute power.
A total stat-check.
A one-sided massacre.
Honestly, Steven had never understood why so many games separated strength and speed as different stats.
At least for him, if he put enough force into his swings, he could go as fast as he damn well pleased.
"Man, this is satisfying and all—"
"But not having any AOE is kinda annoying."
Even as he continued swinging, Steven had enough brainpower to complain mid-fight.
Maybe he should look into installing a magic mod or something.
Or at least get a better gear setup with AOE abilities.
Very quickly, the once chaotic, densely packed swarm of Seaborn was cleared.
In its place, a battlefield of blood and corpses, carved open by Steven alone.
And just then, a long, piercing howl echoed from the back of the horde.
It was commanding.
Authoritative.
Enough to halt the mindless charge of the Abyssal creatures, stopping them in their tracks.
Steven also stopped, turning to face the source of the sound.
And there it was, the one he had seen earlier.
The elite mob, the one that seemed to be the leader of this swarm.
The name above its head read:
[Seaborn Elite: The First To Talk]
With a slow, deliberate motion, the creature raised a mucus-covered claw toward Steven.
And then, in a deep voice shockingly close to Iberian speech—
It spoke.
"Human… return our kin to us."
Steven’s eye twitched.
His lips curled.
And then, without hesitation—
"Return my a—"
Before he even finished cursing, he had already lunged forward.
The hell?!
He was just joking earlier about there actually being a monster that could talk!
But now there really was one?!
If he let this thing keep running its mouth, what if it suddenly started pleading for mercy halfway through the fight?
What if it suddenly begged for peace?
Steven wasn’t risking it.
No talking.
No negotiations.
Just beat the words out of it.
Originally, he was planning to leave the boss for last, clean up the small fry first, and then enjoy a proper battle.
But since this thing was so eager to step up—
Well.
That wasn’t his problem anymore.
In the blink of an eye, Steven was gone from where he had stood.
And before anyone could react, he had already appeared right in front of the so-called "The First To Talk."
No sword.
No technique.
Just one punch.
And the elite Seaborn was sent flying.
<+>
"Sir… did you see that?"
Standing at a distance, Dario had been observing the entire battle.
And now, he was suddenly very, very glad about the decision he had made earlier.
When Irene described how this boy had single-handedly stopped the Seaborn tide, it had already sounded ridiculous.
Now?
Now it felt like an understatement.
Even with his own combat experience, Dario couldn’t keep up with Steven’s movements.
The moment he accelerated, he was almost indistinguishable from teleportation.
And if he couldn’t track it, that meant even his own teacher likely wouldn’t be able to either.
The old Saint beside him sighed.
He, too, had failed to track Steven’s speed.
And though he hated to admit it, even if he were decades younger, he still wouldn’t have been able to.
But even if he couldn’t see the attacks, he could see the aftermath.
The cracks left in the ground from Steven’s entrance.
The way some monsters weren’t even cut.
They were just shredded apart by the pure shockwaves from his swings.
How much raw power would it take to do that?
How could someone generate that kind of force with just their body?
And that wasn’t the scariest part.
Throughout the entire fight, Carmen had felt no trace of Originium Arts.
No spells.
No special abilities.
Just sheer, overwhelming physical strength.
What kind of humanoid monster was this?
Not even the Abyssal Hunters were this absurd!
Carmen’s gaze darkened.
His years of experience as an Inquisitor gave him a keen instinct.
And his instinct told him that Steven wasn’t an enemy.
Not yet, at least.
"For now, let’s avoid making him an opponent."
"At least for Iberia’s sake, he’s still… safe."
But then, just as he was beginning to feel somewhat relieved, the next scene made Carmen question everything again.
<+>
In the middle of the battlefield, Steven grabbed the The First To Talk by the throat.
With just one hand.
Lifting the massive Abyssal creature off the ground.
And then, with an expression of pure delight, he cackled.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!!"
...Yeah.
That was not the laugh of a good person.
Chapter 37: Chapter 37: Surprisingly Entertaining
Chapter Text
Steven had no idea that his laughter had left the Inquisitors in shock.
At this moment, his only thought was to vent his inner craving for battle.
And fortunately, the Seaborn known as The First To Talk seemed sturdy enough to take a beating.
Its fluid-like body allowed it to barely endure Steven’s sudden attack, and its remarkable regenerative ability had already begun patching itself back together.
But that didn't stop Steven from swaggering forward.
He reached out with one hand, grabbing the creature by what he assumed was the underside of its head, lifting it effortlessly into the air.
"Are you still planning to go after my daughter?"
Steven’s gaze flicked to the surrounding monsters—
They had instinctively taken a few steps back in fear.
Yet the Seaborn in his grasp remained unwavering.
"Rescuing… my kin… is my… duty."
Even as gelatinous, blood-like fluid oozed from its broken body, the creature continued speaking, albeit in a halting and strained manner.
—Huh.
Hearing that, Steven almost felt like he was the villain here.
Like these things were some kind of self-sacrificing heroes fighting to save their people.
—Yeah, he should've just started punching instead of asking.
Without another word, Steven raised his fist and slammed it straight into the monster’s face.
CRACK
The sickening sound of shattering flesh echoed through the battlefield.
The creature’s entire head collapsed into a pile of sludge.
Finally.
Silence.
But then, from within its chest cavity, a voice, still devoid of any emotion, rasped:
"Kin… must be… saved."
Steven sucked in a sharp breath.
"—The hell?!"
Were their heads just for decoration?!
What kind of biological nonsense was this?!
He didn’t get it, and he wasn’t about to start trying now.
With an annoyed grunt, Steven tossed the monster to the ground.
Its massive body landed with a heavy thud, flesh colliding against the earth.
Steven didn’t even bother drawing his sword this time.
Instead, he simply clenched his fists.
This was on it.
It chose this.
No more words.
No more nonsense.
Steven’s fists rained down, like a soulless pile driver, pounding mercilessly into the Seaborn’s body.
With every punch, the sheer force of the shockwaves sent any surrounding monsters flying before they could even think of sneaking up on him.
And as for The First To Talk itself?
No one could even begin to imagine the suffering it was experiencing.
<+>
Even the three Inquisitors, who had been watching from the sidelines, turned their heads away.
None of them wanted to witness the scene any longer.
The sheer brutality, the way flesh and blood sprayed with every impact, It was too much.
"...Was he always this violent?"
Carmen, the elderly Saint, finally broke the silence.
His tone was… conflicted.
He turned toward Irene, the one who had spent the most time with Steven.
"Only in battle, I think."
Irene frowned slightly, uncertain.
"But this… this feels… personal."
Previously, Steven only ever threw rocks at enemies.
He never seemed to target a specific individual like this.
She wasn’t sure what to make of it.
"...I see."
Carmen sighed.
"Let’s just hope he never turns against Iberia."
He had originally wanted Steven to spare the creature.
After all, this was the first Seaborn he had ever seen that could speak Iberian fluently.
If they could interrogate it, they might have learned something valuable.
But now?
Carmen wasn’t even sure if there would be enough of it left for interrogation at all.
This wasn’t an exaggeration, Steven’s punches had so much force and momentum that it honestly didn’t look like he was going to leave that thing with a whole body.
Even if he wanted to, the creature’s physical limits might not allow it.
For nearly a full minute, Steven hammered away at The First To Talk.
By the time he finally stopped, the ground beneath him had sunk several meters deep into a crater.
As for what was left of the creature inside?
Just a mangled, pulpy mess of flesh and fluids.
Steven let out a satisfied sigh, as if he had just gotten something off his chest.
He wiped his forehead—despite not having a single drop of sweat—and glanced down at the delayed system notification.
[Story Boss "The First To Talk" Eliminated. World Acknowledgement Point +15,000]
Huh.
If not for this notification popping up, he probably would’ve gone for a few extra hits, just to be sure.
But the point amount caught his attention.
That was the biggest single reward he had seen since arriving in this world.
Was this frail-looking, actually-still-frail thing supposed to be some super important boss or something?
Steven raised an eyebrow, stretched lazily, then climbed out of the deep crater he had created.
And that’s when he saw it, the remaining horde of Seaborns, still unwilling to give up, swarming toward him.
Steven blinked.
Then, with the brightest, most insincere grin, he waved at them.
"Sorry, I'm done now. Don’t feel like fighting anymore. Bye-bye."
Before any of the monsters could react, Steven blurred into a streak of motion and vanished.
By the time they processed what had happened, he was already back at the Inquisitors' camp.
If these monsters had even a shred of intelligence, they’d probably be fuming.
How could a warrior just ditch a fight like that?
Where was his honor?
His battle pride?!
But Steven?
He didn’t care.
This feeling of having his fun, then leaving the mess for someone else to clean up was exactly what he had always wanted.
Why should he take responsibility for everything?
It wasn’t his job.
Besides, the boss was already dead.
If the Iberian forces couldn’t handle the leftovers, that just meant they were trash.
As he casually reappeared beside Carmen, Steven opened his mouth and immediately blindsided Irene with his next words.
"Where's my food?"
Irene nearly blacked out on the spot.
How did his brain even work?!
<+>
Meanwhile, the battle was slowly drawing to an end.
Maybe it was the lingering terror left by Steven’s massacre, or maybe it was the death of The First To Talk, but the remaining monsters, after one last failed charge, began retreating back into the sea.
As for Steven?
He sat comfortably with Gladiia, bowl of Pork Chop Rice in hand, and watched the rest of the battle unfold.
It was a great opportunity to observe how Iberian forces actually fought and how the Inquisitors conducted battle.
His verdict?
"Surprisingly entertaining."
Honestly, the battle style here felt a little primitive.
They were still stuck in the cold weapon era.
The only firearm he saw was the hand cannon used by Dario, the High Inquisitor, and even then, he only fired it once or twice.
Most of the fighting was just swords clashing against claws and fangs.
Not even crossbows were widely used.
And this was supposed to be the official military?!
This was all they had?
And as for this world’s "Arts", as Irene called them?
Yeah, they were even more disappointing.
Those so-called Inquisitor Casters could barely cast a fireball without running out of breath.
Steven seriously doubted their magic could compete with a single block of TNT.
Was this world’s industrial level… really this pathetic?
Chapter 38: Chapter 38: It's Over?
Chapter Text
After finally finishing two full servings of pork chop rice and stuffing the rest of his packed portions straight into his inventory right in front of the three Inquisitors, Steven wiped his mouth, ready to bid farewell to this surprisingly decent organization.
Honestly?
For such a remote and godforsaken place, the fact that they even managed to get him multiple servings of pork chop rice?
That was quite impressive.
Steven felt like it would be rude to keep acting all distant and aloof.
But just as he was about to say something, he noticed three pairs of eyes staring directly at his hands.
“…Something wrong?”
Something was very wrong.
Irene looked at Steven in shock.
If his previous actions had only proven that his physical strength was monstrous, then this?
What the hell was this?!
Those were two massive bowls of pork chop rice, the size of washbasins, how the hell did they just vanish when he moved his hands behind his back?!
And judging by the expressions on her teacher and commander, they also had no idea how he did it.
Irene hesitated, then cautiously gestured toward him—
"How did you just… you know… that?"
She mimed the exact motion of placing something behind the back and it disappearing.
This obviously wasn’t something Originium Arts could do.
No way.
Steven blinked, and then smiled as he quickly came up with an excuse.
"Oh, it's just sleight of hand. You know, a magician’s trick. I actually just stuffed it in my pants."
—Yeah.
That should work, right?
In truth, Steven had completely forgotten how absurdly difficult it would be to explain his inventory in this world.
With all the weirdly skewed technological advancements here, you’d think they’d at least have some kind of spatial storage magic, right?
But nope.
Apparently, even their magic tech tree was completely messed up.
To prove his “explanation”, Steven reached behind his back, pulled the two pork chop rice bowls out again, and then in slow motion, he put them back in.
Irene looked even more confused than before.
“…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
She wasn’t blind!
That food didn’t go into his pants, it just disappeared right into thin air!
"You—"
"Ah, ah, ah."
Steven cut her off before she could argue.
His expression turned mock-serious, like an elder advising a younger generation.
"Listen, you're an Inquisitor, right? Some things are worth investigating to the end. But some things? It's better not to dig too deep."
Irene frowned.
Steven gently patted her on the head.
"As an Inquisitor, you have a lot of judgments to make. One of them is learning to prioritize what's important."
[World Acknowledgement Points +1]
"You—!"
Before Irene could explode, a deep voice interrupted her.
"Irene, he's right."
The High Inquisitor, Dario, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up.
His expression was calm, but his words were firm.
"A competent Inquisitor must understand the situation before them. Pursuing the truth blindly—without regard for everything else—can be dangerous."
Irene gritted her teeth but held back whatever she wanted to say.
She could tell that Dario agreed with Steven’s point.
Steven smirked, then piled on just to mess with her.
"See? You’ve got a great superior. You should learn from him."
"Otherwise, why do you think his rank is so much higher than yours?"
Irene’s face twitched with frustration.
Steven chuckled to himself.
Compared to all the slick, old foxes he had dealt with before, he definitely enjoyed teasing this one the most.
"Everyone has their secrets, Mr. Steven. If you don’t wish to explain, we naturally won’t press further."
The elderly Saint stepped forward at the right moment, skillfully bringing the previous topic to an end.
Then, with a serious expression, he offered his gratitude.
"Regardless, we sincerely thank you. Whether it was purging the remnants of the Church of the Deep in this village or assisting the Penal Battalion in repelling the Seaborn, you have more than earned the Inquisition’s recognition."
Steven laughed lightly.
"No need to be so polite, makes me feel awkward. Anyway, if there's nothing else, I'll be heading off. Next time you want to drag me back to the Inquisition, it won’t be so easy."
Truth be told, this self-proclaimed Saint had left a pretty good impression on him.
Certainly much better than that green-haired cat lady named Kal’tsit.
At least he didn’t speak entirely in riddles.
If it weren’t for the fact that Steven still needed to stick around with Rhodes Island to farm some World Acknowledgement Points, and escort Gladiia to reunite with her fellow countrymen, he wouldn’t mind messing around in Iberia and finding a comfortable position to slack off in.
"I’m not worried."
The Saint named Carmen nodded at Steven.
"I trust that you are not someone who would willfully trample upon Iberian law. As long as you maintain that, the Inquisition will always treat you as we do now."
His gaze then shifted skyward.
Steven followed his line of sight.
At the very edge of the sky, a flying machine bearing an unfamiliar emblem—a chess rook—Was slowly descending.
Carmen narrowed his eyes.
So… that woman has taken an interest in this enigmatic young man as well?
What a shame.
Had they reached him earlier, perhaps Iberia could have kept him.
Steven let out a short chuckle.
"Wow. Look at that VIP treatment. Even got a private jet, huh?"
Compared to Irene, who was staring at the aircraft with wide-eyed amazement like a village girl seeing a skyscraper for the first time, Steven was completely unfazed.
It was just an aircraft.
If he really wanted to, he could craft one himself.
However, just as Steven was about to bid farewell and finally leave,
A long-absent red notification suddenly popped up in his chat log.
[Under Tides (Prologue)] Hidden Achievement Completed √]
[Base World Acknowledgement Points: 100,000. Plot Participation: 50% (Bonus +50%). Worldline Impact: 0.01% (Bonus +100%).]
[Evaluation: Your arrival led to the eradication of a Church of the Deep stronghold. At the same time, your strength has been noticed by the entities of the deep.]
[Total World Acknowledgement Points Earned: 250,000]
[Would you like to claim your rewards now?]
Steven’s brows lifted slightly.
So, this counted as a hidden storyline completion?
Just as he suspected, the system didn’t necessarily require him to follow the main quests step-by-step to farm points.
Otherwise, what would happen if he altered key events?
Wouldn’t that just break the subsequent storylines?
The way this system was structured…
It was almost as if it encouraged him to integrate into the story and change things.
And what’s more, if he altered events in the right way, he could actually earn even more points.
Now, with this "hidden" storyline appearing, Steven finally had his answer.
This was just like those galgames he’d played before.
If he met certain conditions and rewrote certain endings, it would unlock entirely new routes to explore.
Steven's lips curled into a smirk.
"Huh, at least this system knows how to be flexible, way more reasonable than the rigid systems I’ve seen in various light novels.”
He then glanced back at the system prompt.
"…250,000 points?"
His smirk turned into a grin.
"What, you think I’m a beggar? If you’re gonna show me the multipliers, you better believe I’m gonna exploit the hell out of them."
His grin only widened.
Steven turned back, locking eyes with Carmen once again.
"Say, would you mind me sticking around a little longer?"
"I just remembered a deal that would benefits both of us."
Chapter 39: Chapter 39: After All That, Just for a Potato?
Chapter Text
"A deal?"
Carmen clearly hadn’t expected Steven to say something so out of the blue. For a moment, he couldn't figure out what Steven was up to.
The key issue was that Steven’s unpredictable and eccentric nature was well-known. Even if he were to suddenly turn around and try to sell back the two pork chop meals from the Inquisition earlier, Carmen wouldn't be surprised—it was entirely something Steven was capable of doing.
"Yes, a very good deal. Perhaps for you, for the Inquisition, and even for this nation you speak of, it could be a rather significant and beneficial deal."
With a mysterious yet confident smile on his face, Steven, as an experienced Minecraft player, knew exactly what he and his kind were best at—exploiting game mechanics.
At this moment, he had found a way to utilize a small trick to gain a higher World Acknowledgement Point.
"You two go check on the Penal Battalion first. Let me speak with Mr. Steven alone."
Seeing a level of seriousness in Steven’s gaze that he had never seen before, Carmen hesitated for a moment before instructing Dario and Irene to step out.
Once all unrelated personnel had left, Steven and the old man entered an empty room together.
"Now then, Mr. Steven, can you tell me what kind of deal we can make?"
Carmen might have ignored Steven’s claims of benefits for himself and the Inquisition, but when the conversation touched on the national level of Iberia, he had no choice but to take it seriously.
Even if Steven was likely just messing around, he couldn’t afford to dismiss any possible chance to save this nation that was gradually falling into ruin.
"Relax, don’t rush. I know you’re anxious, but still—just take it easy for now."
Seeing the usually composed old man finally waver when the conversation shifted to national matters, Steven remained completely calm.
At worst, Kal'tsit, who was coming to pick him up, would just have to wait a little longer. He wasn’t in any hurry.
"Before we proceed with the deal, I want to confirm one thing first. Mr. Carmen, can you make decisions on behalf of the entire Inquisition and the Iberian government?"
"The authority of a Saint does not extend that far. Representing the entire Iberian government would require the approval of the other Saints in the Inquisition."
Carmen furrowed his brows.
He had a feeling that Steven wasn’t just speaking nonsense this time.
There was a real possibility that he was being completely serious.
"Alright then, though that’s not a big problem. It’ll take time either way."
After making some quick calculations in his head, Steven nodded in understanding.
"Then, Mr. Carmen, may I ask—just within this Sea Breeze Village, how many villagers have you identified as having ties to the Church of the Deep?"
It was a question that seemed completely unrelated to the conversation at hand, but the look in Steven’s eyes told Carmen that he wasn’t joking.
"…More than half. Aside from the elderly and children, most of the villagers are connected to them in some way."
Carmen answered in a low voice, giving a brutal figure.
His aged face remained expressionless, as if those villagers who had dealings with the Church of the Deep were no longer even human.
"And how many villages like this exist across the country?"
"Hundreds? Thousands? Or even more?"
Steven counted on his fingers, as if the number was too large to keep track of.
"Mr. Steven, what exactly are you trying to say?"
Carmen’s frown deepened.
What Steven said was factual, but even he didn’t want to hear what Steven was likely about to say next.
But Steven acted as if he hadn't heard Carmen’s interruption and continued with his reasoning.
"I don’t know exactly what happened in your country, but I do have a rough understanding of the situation in this village and that ocean."
"Without the marine resources they depend on to survive, how many more villages like Sea Breeze Village will take the wrong path?"
Steven shrugged.
"Mr. Carmen, if my reasoning is correct, wouldn’t that prove that this country is gradually heading toward its demise? Perhaps the Inquisition can track down and eliminate every single Church of the Deep believer hidden among the people, but unless the root cause is addressed, you and I both know that you will never truly eradicate them, right?"
Carmen, who had wanted to refute him, fell silent instead.
As someone who stood at the highest levels of authority in this nation, how could he not understand the truth in Steven’s words?
"Life will always find a way, even in the depths of despair—even if that path leads straight to hell."
Steven muttered something that even he found a little too cryptic.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, he scratched his head and cleared his throat, shaking off that overly dramatic mindset.
"What I mean is, if these villagers' survival problems aren’t solved, they will eventually resort to desperate measures. Even if it violates the Iberian laws you speak of, as long as they can stay alive, who would actually care about that?"
Steven still clearly remembered the words shouted at him by the village chief of Sea Breeze Village.
The people at the bottom of this nation were truly living in misery.
If the chief hadn't made a move against Gladiia, he would probably side with him in the end.
"You… may not be wrong," Carmen admitted, his voice heavy. "But the issue with the ocean is beyond the Inquisition’s ability to resolve. And with Iberia’s current strength, we clearly cannot take care of every village."
After saying this, the aged saint seemed to wither even further, as if he had aged several more years in an instant. His previous vitality was all but gone.
"Ah, and that brings us to why I came looking for you," Steven said cheerfully. "Just because you can’t solve it doesn’t mean I can’t."
Grinning widely, he grew even more pleased when Carmen had naturally led the conversation to the key issue.
"Hmm?"
"Don’t look at me like that. In addition to being a traveler, I also happen to be a businessman."
Steven reached into his backpack and pulled out a fist-sized object, tossing it casually to Carmen.
"I can’t deal with your Church of the Deep problem, nor do I know what difficulties the Inquisition is facing. But what I’m offering can at least help you solve a critical issue."
He paused, letting the old man examine the item in his hands.
"I believe that as long as people have food—enough to prevent their loved ones from starving—they wouldn't so easily choose to risk everything, don’t you think?"
"So… this is what you want to make a deal with?"
"A… potato?"
Holding the utterly ordinary tuber in his hand, Carmen’s aged face twisted slightly.
So all that talk… was just to sell him a potato?
Chapter 40: Chapter 40: If You’re Going to Profit, Make It Big
Chapter Text
"That's right, it's a potato. But… well, it's a bit of a special variety."
Steven wasn’t joking in the slightest. He had already tested it before, even in this world, the potatoes he planted still grew according to Minecraft’s rules.
And, perhaps because he wasn’t the only "player" in this world, these potatoes continued growing even when outside his 128-meter loaded chunk range.
The only difference was that their growth speed was no longer the ridiculous half-hour maturity rate of Minecraft. Instead, it followed the normal growth time of real-world potatoes.
But even that was enough.
The most broken thing about Minecraft’s crops was that as long as you met three basic conditions: tilled soil, light, and water, you never had to worry about anything else.
Weather effects? Natural disasters? Droughts and floods?
Even if a snowstorm buried everything, as long as the water source didn’t freeze, the crops would keep growing as usual.
A plant like this, something that could make agricultural scientists lose their minds, Steven knew exactly what kind of benefits it could bring to Terra, a world severely lacking in resources.
"It might not look like much, but don’t underestimate it."
He spoke with absolute confidence.
"No matter how harsh the environment, as long as you have water, tilled soil, and light, this thing will keep producing crops."
"If you can find a way to promote it, I won’t make any wild promises, but at the very least, this thing alone is enough to solve your nation's hunger problem."
Steven shrugged casually, but he was certain that he old man in front of him understood the weight of his words.
However, Carmen frowned slightly.
"But most of Iberia’s land is near the ocean, so the soil and water here aren’t even suitable for agriculture…."
This boy….
Was he oversimplifying things?
Did he not realize that in all of Iberia, the land suitable for farming wasn’t even 1% of the country?
Steven chuckled.
"Who told you we need farmland?"
"I said three conditions: Water. Tilled soil. Light."
"Freshwater is water, seawater is also water, and if we stretch the definition, even the blood of these Seaborn creatures can be considered water, as long as it can keep the soil moist, it counts as a water source."
"As for soil? As long as it has even a little bit of dirt in it, just till it and it would count as farmland."
Steven knew just how absurdly resilient Minecraft crops were.
Unless you installed some hardcore realism mod, these plants were basically on the verge of magic.
"If you don’t believe me, feel free to get some experts to test it out, I’m just here to discuss the idea with you, I don’t expect the Inquisition to approve it right away."
"Of course, you’re welcome to try it out first."
Steven reached into his inventory again and casually tossed a few more potatoes to Carmen.
For a moment, he considered giving him some beetroots or carrots as well, but then he stopped himself.
Why put all your eggs in one basket?
Wouldn’t it be better to get multiple nations to invest?
<+>
Carmen caught the potatoes with a serious expression.
At this moment, these weren’t just food anymore.
If what the boy in front of him said was true…
The benefits of these potatoes would be terrifying.
A crop that could ignore farming conditions was already absurd.
And no one understood the importance of food better than the starving people of Iberia.
To put it bluntly, these potatoes alone could become the lifeline that saved Iberia.
They could even change the nation’s entire economic structure.
"So, what is the price, Mr. Steven?"
Carmen's perception of Steven had subtly changed.
Before, Steven was just a mysterious figure with terrifying power.
But now, he was a walking treasure chest.
If not for the fact that capturing him wasn’t an option, Carmen would never let someone like him, who could casually pull out something so valuable, just walk away.
Steven smirked.
"Money. Resources. Anything of value."
"I don’t care if you use these potatoes to feed yourselves, or sell them for profit. Whatever wealth these potatoes generate—I take a cut. Let’s say… 30%."
"Or, if you prefer, you can think of it as me hiring your entire nation to farm potatoes for me."
He held up three fingers, looking just one monocle and a top hat away from a classic, lamp-post-hanging capitalist villain.
But Steven didn’t think his request was unreasonable at all.
If anything, he was being generous.
If he didn’t have a conscience, he could have easily demanded more.
After all, his potatoes could be replanted indefinitely.
On average, one potato could triple each season.
Steven only took one-third as his cut, leaving one-third for replanting, and the last third for Iberia’s profits.
Even that remaining third was enough to bring unthinkable prosperity to a dying nation.
"……"
Carmen was silent for a long time.
A fierce internal struggle played out in his mind before he finally calmed himself and spoke steadily.
"We will need time to verify the authenticity of your claims, and to evaluate whether your proposal is reasonable."
Steven smirked.
Carmen understood the stakes all too well.
And that was precisely why he couldn’t make this decision alone.
"Take all the time you need."
"I'm planning to travel with Rhodes Island anyway, plenty of time for you to think it over. you can even start promoting it in advance, I won’t lose anything."
"We can discuss the details when I return."
Steven waved his hand nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t worried at all about them going back on their word.
And honestly?
He wasn’t.
Because Steven knew there was no way the Inquisition could reverse-engineer his potatoes.
And if they tried to cheat him afterward?
That’d be even funnier.
These potatoes came from him.
If they didn’t pay up, he could simply ban their natural growth.
He had plenty of "convenience" mods, but he had even more self-inflicted suffering mods.
Carmen took a deep breath.
"If these potatoes are truly as miraculous as you claim—"
"Then the Inquisition will forever remember your generosity. No, sll of Iberia will remember."
He clenched the potatoes in his hands, his gaze toward Steven now filled with reverence, it’s as if he’s staring at a living saint.
Steven chuckled.
"Don’t make me sound like a hero. I’ve told you before, I’m just a traveler and a businessman."
With a smile, he turned away, leaving behind the trembling old man who was still overwhelmed by emotion.
Just then, Steven’s chat window popped up with a system notification.
A familiar one.
[Under Tides (Prologue) – Worldline Shift Detected]
[Base World Acknowledgement Points: 100,000. Plot Participation: 50% (Bonus +50%). Worldline Impact: 1% (Bonus +10,000%).]
[Evaluation: Your arrival has altered the agricultural structure of this world. Starting from Iberia, a revolution will sweep across the entire continent of Terra.]
[Total World Acknowledgement Points Earned: 10.05 million]
[Would you like to claim your rewards now?]
Steven grinned.
"Now this is what I call a worthy investment."
Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Mod – Equivalent Exchange
Chapter Text
In just a single day, he changed from being a penniless player with barely twenty thousand points to now becoming a millionaire with tens of millions of points.
However, Steven was well aware that this was no different from exploiting a game loophole.
Even if he continued using crops like carrots and beets to trade with other nations, it was unlikely he would be able to rack up the same kind of bonuses again.
The first person to exploit a loophole always benefits the most.
Fortunately, Steven had no intention of repeating this trick.
He couldn't be sure that other countries' official institutions would be as accommodating as the Inquisition, let alone the fact that the Inquisition's leniency was partly due to Iberia's unique national conditions.
After all, a country where most of its citizens struggled to meet basic needs was still a rarity, right?
Using this exploit once was enough—any more, and even Steven would feel it was excessive.
As for the ten million-plus points he now possessed, while the number seemed vast, considering the large-scale mod he was about to activate, Steven felt it was just about right.
"Activate the Equivalent Exchange mod."
Quietly selecting the [Equivalent Exchange] mod from the system options, Steven waited for the non-native system prompt to appear.
Sure enough, the moment he selected it, a warning message popped up in the lower right chatbox.
[Ding! Activating the Equivalent Exchange mod requires consuming 9,000,000 World Acknowledgement Points. Confirm?]
"Confirm."
In an instant, his once eight-digit point total lost a zero, but Steven’s expression was one of utter satisfaction—he knew this was a bargain.
If it were any other mod deducting this many points, Steven would’ve thought the world was run by some scammer of a black-market merchant. But for this particular one? It was absolutely worth the price.
It felt as if some invisible constraint had been lifted from his body, leaving him with a newfound sense of ease.
And then… nothing happened.
This mod wasn’t one that altered his body parameters or granted him any abilities—what kind of major change could he have expected?
Steven had chosen to activate this mod immediately, but not because he expected an instant power-up.
The Equivalent Exchange mod, true to its name, simply allowed him to engage in bartering.
Every item in Minecraft had a corresponding EMC value (Energy-Matter Currency) in this mod.
As long as he accumulated enough points, he could use a tool called the Transmutation Table to exchange items.
Likewise, unnecessary items could be converted into EMC points through other tools within the mod.
Since arriving in this Arknights world, Steven had noticed the absence of many common Minecraft resources.
This hadn’t been a major issue so far, but if he wanted to play with mods, it would be a serious problem.
For example, some mods required gold as a fundamental material. Yet, Steven had a hard time believing that even the wealthiest nation or organization in this world could casually provide cubic meters of gold blocks in bulk.
And ironically, gold blocks were often one of the most useless materials in mods—just like in vanilla Minecraft, where gold was one of the most worthless ores.
Not to mention rarer items like Wither Skeleton Skulls or Nether Stars—where on earth was he supposed to find those mobs to farm them?
So, Equivalent Exchange had become the most essential and fundamental mod for him to have at this stage.
Of course, part of the reason for its hefty cost was its ability to freely convert materials. But Steven also knew there was another reason.
The late-game gear and weapons that came with this mod were, to put it mildly, a bit overpowered.
Not that he could craft them anytime soon—let alone whether the world’s will in this realm would even allow him to wield such game-breaking tools.
He pulled out a Portable Transmutation Table from his inventory, feeling relieved. This thing was so useful in day-to-day play that even when he played vanilla survival, he always carried one.
After all, it was essentially a personal storage unit—he could just pull out whatever he needed on the go.
As expected, however, since this world was not connected to his previous one—or perhaps due to some kind of suppression affecting him—his once overflowing Transmutation Table, which held a ridiculous 2³⁰ EMC points, had been wiped clean to a big, fat zero.
But since all the item recipes were still recorded inside, Steven wasn’t too bothered.
He had already decided to start from scratch, so beginning at zero wasn’t a big deal.
As long as he was still here, did he really need to worry about gathering EMC points again?
All he had to do was farm World Acknowledgement Points while grinding some extra EMC on the side—it wasn’t difficult at all.
In fact, this was part of the fun of being a Minecrafter.
First, he dumped all his useless junk into the Transmutation Table, converting them into hundreds of thousands of EMC points.
At the very least, he no longer had to worry about running out of basic materials anytime soon.
And thank god he had brought along a few stacks of gold blocks—if he had to start from absolute zero, he’d probably have to level an entire mountain just to farm stone for EMC.
That would have been pure suffering.
After testing the Transmutation Table and confirming it could properly convert the items he once had in his Minecraft world, Steven smiled with satisfaction and stashed it back into his inventory.
He’d experiment with the mod’s full potential later—right now, the bigger question was what other fun and practical mod he should activate next.
After spending a massive nine million points, Steven’s next thought was how to spend the remaining one million as well.
After all, points existed to be spent, right? What was he supposed to do, wait for them to multiply?
Most large mods didn’t demand the absurd cost of Equivalent Exchange. With a million points, he could still afford at least one more mod.
The only problem?
Indecision.
Should he continue playing as a cool and dashing swordsman?
Or should he switch things up and try being a spellcasting mage?
Or—if he wanted to go even crazier—why not a modern firearms engineer?
And if all else failed… maybe just become Thanos?
With so many tempting options spread out before him, Steven found himself frozen—unsure of what to pick next.
Sometimes, having too many option to choose from is its own kind of problem.
Chapter 42: Chapter 42: Farewell
Chapter Text
By the time Steven had finished adjusting his mods and stepped out of the village, Rhodes Island’s aircraft had already been waiting at the village entrance for quite some time.
The moment Gladiia—whom he had asked Irene to take away earlier—saw him, she rushed straight toward him.
Like a lost child finding her guardian, she hid behind him, clutching the hem of his clothes with a pitiful expression.
"Weren’t you all independent and fearless when you were chasing that guy earlier?"
Steven muttered under his breath as he ruffled her hair, his “daughter” behaving more and more like a father-con by the day.
He really needed to fix her condition soon.
If he got too used to her acting warm and close to him, then, if she were to suddenly regain her memories and become all distant and cold toward him, acting like they are strangers, the one getting hurt in the end would be him.
Emotions are the sharpest blades. No amount of Resistance V could help him tank that kind of damage.
Compared to Gladiia, however, Kal’tsit, who had clearly been waiting for a while, looked much less enthusiastic.
With that perpetually cold expression, as if everyone owed her money, she was practically the embodiment of a stone-faced scowl.
Honestly, if he were to put it bluntly, he’d say she had a permanent “resting bitch face”—the kind that just screamed “I’m done with all of this”.
Steven couldn’t help but wonder… Wouldn’t holding that expression all the time eventually give her facial paralysis?
"Rhodes Island has remained in Iberia for too long. Even with the Inquisition’s permission, this land still holds unpredictable dangers. It’s time to leave."
As usual, her words were vague and cryptic, as if she was some all-knowing entity. What she didn’t know, however, was that in Steven’s mind, he was using some rather unflattering descriptions for her.
She was simply stating the facts in her own roundabout way—essentially urging him to leave.
"Did I ever ask you to wait for me?"
Steven had no intention of humoring her.
The best way to deal with cryptic people was to hit them with direct responses.
And considering he owed Kal’tsit nothing, he saw no reason to entertain her vagueness—especially when she was the one inexplicably inviting him.
Her fist, hidden beneath her coat, subtly clenched for a moment at his blunt remark. But instead of replying, she simply turned around and walked toward the aircraft.
Meanwhile, behind her, an older woman in Rhodes Island’s uniform couldn't help but stifle a chuckle, seemingly amused that even Kal’tsit could have moments where she got shut down.
"Young man, I know Kal’tsit’s way of speaking can be a bit... roundabout, but you didn’t have to be that rude. That wasn’t very gentlemanly, you know?"
"Besides, the longer Rhodes Island lingers here, the more likely we are to attract unwanted attention. She’s only acting cautiously for good reason."
Speaking on behalf of her superior—who was also her friend—the older woman casually approached Steven, speaking with a much friendlier tone.
It was only when she got closer that Steven noticed the halo above her head—something that immediately piqued his curiosity.
And behind her, six crystal-like wings shimmered faintly.
With that kind of distinct appearance, it was hard not to associate her with the angels from his memory.
Noticing Steven’s curiosity, the older woman extended a hand toward him, as if suddenly remembering something.
"Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. Outcast, Elite Operator of Rhodes Island."
"Oh—uh, nice to meet you. Just call me Steve."
Unlike Kal’tsit, who spoke in riddles, this Outcast woman was straightforward and friendly—which instantly boosted Steven’s impression of her.
Since he himself was also the type to be sociable, he naturally returned the gesture, meeting her handshake with a genuine smile.
Seeing the cowboy-like modified uniform the woman was wearing—along with the revolver-like weapon strapped to her waist—Steven found himself becoming curious about Rhodes Island.
Maybe it was just expected from a main character’s organization—after all, they seemed to attract all sorts of eccentrics and oddballs.
"So, Mr. Steve, are you done with your business now? If so, it’s about time for us to depart for Rhodes Island as well."
Outcast smiled at his friendly response, realizing that Steven wasn’t as difficult to talk to as she initially thought.
Perhaps, compatibility between people really was a thing—because it was clear as day that Kal’tsit and this boy had none at all.
"Hold on a second. I need to say goodbye to a friend first."
After a brief moment of thought, Steven turned his gaze toward a certain Iberian girl behind him.
Irene clearly had something to say—her expression so awkwardly stiff that she looked like she might explode from holding it in.
Considering how he constantly teased her, Steven supposed he could reluctantly count her as a friend.
He had already admitted it before—he liked her personality, and enjoyed their interactions.
"That expression of yours? Not exactly something a proud Iberian Inquisitor should be making. Honestly, it’s embarrassing just to look at."
He couldn’t resist teasing her again—but instead of getting angrier, Irene’s expression softened at his words.
"Hmph. Whether I am an Inquisitor or not is decided by my actions, not my expression. Just wait. The next time we meet, I’ll make sure you genuinely recognize my authority."
Even she couldn’t quite put into words what she felt about this strange man.
Their interactions felt more like banter between close friends, full of mocking jabs and playful challenges.
But still—when she heard he was leaving, there had been a brief pang of disappointment in her chest.
That wasn’t something an Inquisitor should feel—and she knew it.
"And next time, I absolutely, absolutely won’t let you talk down to me like some elder again! You’re just some weirdo! I’ll show you what a real Inquisitor is!"
She raised a tiny fist at him, chin lifted high in defiance.
"Alright then, I’ll be looking forward to it. Don’t disappoint me, Miss Inquisitor of Iberia."
With a grin, Steven turned back and waved as he followed Outcast up the Rhodes Island aircraft.
Just as he had said—he’d be back soon.
And when that time came, he looked forward to meeting this adorable little bird once more.
"That’s your friend? An Inquisitor from the Inquisition? That’s quite unusual. You know, in Iberia, people usually call those Inquisitors ‘cold-blooded arrest machines.’"
Walking ahead, Outcast turned her gaze back toward Steven, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"The description is quite apt, but what does that have to do with me?"
Steven grinned.
"To me, she’s a strong and courageous little Iberian bird. That’s all that matters."
With that, he flashed Outcast a confident smile.
Chapter 43: Chapter 43: The Sun Is Rising From The West Today
Chapter Text
High above Iberia.
Aboard the Rhodes Island aircraft.
Outcast idly toyed with a bullet on the table in front of her.
Across from her lay a white-haired girl, breathing soft and steady like a sleeping child.
As for Kal’tsit, ever since being snapped at by Steven, she had remained silent, sitting near the aircraft's pilot, gazing into the sky with a pensive expression.
Sure, she usually looked like this, but Outcast couldn’t shake the feeling that today—she was in an especially bad mood.
And the one responsible for all this?
That Ægir boy who had been cooped up in the aircraft’s private cabin for nearly twenty minutes now.
Even the Ægir girl who had come aboard with him had dozed off from the long wait—yet he still hadn’t come out.
"Kal’tsit, you think he just used that as an excuse to slip away?"
Twirling the bullet between her fingers one last time before pocketing it, Outcast finally gave in to her curiosity and asked her superior.
"We are thousands of meters above the ground. If he wanted to leave, he would have done so long before this."
Kal’tsit finally turned her head and answered, her cold voice even frostier than usual.
That tone alone was enough for Outcast to tell—Steven had really pissed her off.
She had to admit—this was entertaining.
She had never seen this self-proclaimed all-knowing woman get so riled up before.
"Kal’tsit, I’m really curious—just how important is that boy to you?"
If she didn’t already know for a fact that Kal’tsit had never shown any interest in romance, Outcast might have seriously wondered if Steven was her long-lost son or something.
Sure, Kal’tsit looked like a young girl—but Outcast knew better.
Back when she herself was just a teenager, Kal’tsit already looked exactly the same as she did now.
So honestly?
She wouldn’t completely rule that possibility out.
"Kindly discard your useless speculations."
Kal’tsit shot her a sideways glance, voice as calm as ever.
She may not always be able to read Steven’s mind—but when it came to this Sakota’s thoughts, she could see right through her.
"He is not important to me—but to Rhodes Island. In fact, he may be crucial to this entire land."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Outcast was someone she trusted, at least to a degree.
So after a brief hesitation, she chose to explain.
Most of this was her own intuition—but after receiving a final message from Saint Carmen of Iberia, urging her to ensure Steven’s safety, she had decided to trust her instincts.
After all, for someone like Carmen—who had endured the greatest disaster Iberia had ever seen—to show such deep concern over just one person…
That alone was enough to prove how unusual Steven really was.
"So you’re just gonna keep letting him get away with it?"
Outcast shrugged.
"No offense, but that kid is actually pretty easy to talk to. Maybe if you just changed the way you speak to him, things wouldn’t be so tense between you two?"
She nodded seriously, offering her earnest suggestion to her old friend.
Kal’tsit herself might not notice it, due to having grown used to this way of speaking, but Steven clearly wasn’t the target audience for her communication style.
Being more direct with him would actually be better.
Kal’tsit, however, simply averted her gaze without responding to Outcast’s suggestion.
Just as silence settled over the aircraft once again, the tightly shut cabin door finally swung open.
The heavy thud of footsteps made both Outcast and Kal’tsit instinctively furrow their brows. But when they turned their attention toward the source—what they saw was not the slightly lanky young man from earlier.
Instead, a towering giant stood before them, fully clad in hulking purple heavy armor.
Even more bizarre, this heavily armored behemoth wasn’t wearing a metal helmet—but rather, an oversized pumpkin head that looked downright comical.
The visual contrast between the intimidating armor and the goofy pumpkin head was… jarring, to say the least.
"Sorry, it took a bit longer than expected. I spent too much time debating what kind of helmet would look best."
Steven’s voice came from beneath the armor, confirming his identity to Outcast—he wasn’t some Iberian heavy knight who had mysteriously snuck aboard the Rhodes Island aircraft.
But his next words?
They didn’t just leave Outcast speechless—even Kal’tsit’s hand, mid-sip of coffee, trembled slightly.
"So… Hey, Outcast, if you saw me in the street wearing this kind of outfit, would you grind your back if I grasped your ass?”
"…"
"No."
Outcast forced out a reply between gritted teeth, her wrinkled face contorting into an expression that was difficult to describe.
If she were a few decades younger, this would have been a blatant case of sexual harassment.
But at her age, she could only pray that she was misunderstanding.
"Uhh… That comes out as pseudo-sexual harassment, forget what I said, just tell me this—do I still give off that ‘powerful’ feeling like this?"
Still completely encased in armor, Steven raised a gauntleted hand to his head.
With a loud "pop"—like a bottle cap being pried off a beer—he lifted the ridiculous pumpkin helmet off his head, glancing toward the two women for confirmation.
Now that he had access to EE Mod, there was no way he’d keep running around completely unarmored.
After what happened with Kal’tsit and Carmen, Steven had already made up his mind—he needed gear that could suppress his overwhelming presence.
And naturally, the Netherite Armor was his best choice.
But there was one problem—that armor left his face exposed.
And Steven was deathly afraid that people would take one look at his ridiculously handsome face and lose all will to fight.
So in the end, he decided to cover his entire head with… something else.
"No. You just look… really dumb."
To Steven’s surprise, the person who answered this time wasn’t the angelic-looking old lady—but rather, the cat-eared girl beside her, staring at him with an equally unreadable expression.
Wait.
Did she… just say something that short?
Did the sun rise from the west today?
Chapter 44: Chapter 44: A Knight of Many Heads
Chapter Text
"How about this, then?"
Stowing away the pumpkin head, Steven reached into his inventory and pulled out a new helmet—an Ender Dragon Head.
[/hat]
In an instant, Steven’s relatively small human head, peeking out from his heavy purple-black armor, was replaced by a mythical, Draco visage.
Bright purple light radiated from the fierce dragon eyes, and atop the terrifying dragon’s skull, a pure white, crown-like set of horns extended outward—adding to the sheer pressure of his presence.
Compared to the vision-blocking pumpkin, this was far superior.
Not knowing just how shocking his actions appeared to others, Steven merely felt satisfied with his choice.
"How did you do that?"
Outcast stood up from her seat, stepping closer to Steven.
If she hadn’t seen it herself, she wouldn’t have believed what had just happened.
The dragon head on Steven’s shoulders seemed alive. With each of his breaths, thick, heavy Draco exhalations poured from his nostrils.
And even more unnerving—the menacing dragon face could clearly express Steven’s inquisitive expression, as if it were truly part of him.
—Was this kid actually an Ancestral Draco revealing his true form?
"I just put on a helmet. What’s the big deal?"
The supposedly terrifying dragon gave a perplexed look.
Through the glowing purple eyes, Outcast could see undeniable confusion—as if Steven genuinely didn’t understand what was so shocking.
"Can I touch it?"
Curiosity flickering in her gaze, Outcast removed the glove from her hand.
"Go ahead."
Steven saw no issue with her request.
If anything, he was starting to wonder why no one was complimenting him yet.
Come on. A dragon-headed heavy knight was insanely cool!
Who wouldn’t want to be a badass little dragon guy?
As Outcast’s thin, slightly withered fingers touched the dragon’s scales, she felt an unexpected cold smoothness, with a subtle organic slickness—as if she were touching actual skin.
Pulling her hand back, Outcast finally understood why Kal’tsit was taking this boy so seriously.
Even just this one minor thing proved that the secrets hidden within him could be extremely significant to Rhodes Island—and perhaps even to the entire continent.
This wasn’t just a "helmet."
He had literally swapped heads.
"You better make sure no one from Victoria sees you like this. No—better yet, don’t let anyone see you at all. It’ll cause unnecessary trouble."
Kal’tsit, having masked the shock in her eyes, spoke up with her usual calm but firm voice.
Among Victoria’s two great royal bloodlines, the Dracos had been considered extinct ever since the Aslans took the throne.
If Steven walked around with a dragon’s head, it would immediately draw the attention of countless forces eager to investigate.
A living Ancestral Draco?
Even Kal’tsit herself couldn’t recall the last time she had seen one.
In the last few hundred years, she had only seen the more-modern, mainstream ‘normal' Draco, not the Ancestral one.
As for where Steven had even gotten such a thing, Kal’tsit didn’t bother asking anymore.
At this point, it seemed like nothing was impossible for him.
"Huh? Is it really that serious?"
Steven raised an eyebrow.
He had assumed that in a world filled with anthro beast-folk, a dragon-headed guy wouldn’t be that unusual.
After all, Outcast was literally a winged angel grandma.
"It’s more serious than you think."
Staring directly into his glowing purple eyes, Kal’tsit’s stern gaze made it clear—she wasn’t exaggerating.
"Alright, then."
Steven originally wanted to argue, but then he remembered—his whole reason for wearing a helmet in the first place was to stay inconspicuous.
So, reluctantly, he gave up on the Ender Dragon head.
Removing the fearsome dragon helm, he rummaged through his inventory again and pulled out a Wither Skeleton skull, placing it over his head.
Then, with an expectant gaze, he turned to Kal’tsit.
Just moments ago, he had looked like a formidable Draco warrior—and now, in the blink of an eye, he had transformed into a sinister skeletal knight.
The crushing dragon-like pressure was gone, yet somehow, this new look gave him an eerie, dark and malevolent aura.
His black, hollow eye sockets showed nothing inside—despite the fact that there should have been a visible face beneath. It was as if the skull was completely empty, nothing but an abyss.
Even more unsettling, as Steven spoke, the skeletal jaw opened and closed naturally, perfectly synchronized with his words—like a living undead.
"…Can you just act normal for once?"
Kal’tsit narrowed her eyes.
The dragon form she could at least explain as him having some sort of Ancestral Draco bloodline.
But this?
What the hell was this?
Some kind of necromantic technology?
Even Originium Arts couldn’t achieve something like this—at least not to the point where a person could fully function as a sentient skeleton, with no muscles or brain, yet still speak and move normally.
"Sigh~ why is this so complicated? I just want to be low-profile, so I don’t immediately stand out as someone really strong. Why is that so difficult?"
Steven let out a frustrated sigh, reluctantly removing the Wither Skull as well.
This world already had beast-folk, angels, and all sorts of strange creatures—so why couldn't it just accept a little dragon guy or a skeleton warrior?
"With that outfit, there’s no way you can call yourself 'low-profile' to begin with."
Kal’tsit stated the harsh truth.
Turns out, when she actually wanted to, she could speak in straightforward terms instead of cryptic riddles.
After the initial adjustment period, she found herself adapting quickly to Steven’s conversational style.
Being blunt and direct wasn’t difficult for her.
After all, she’s only being this cryptic in the last few hundred years or so, not since the start of her life.
Furthermore, when dealing with this absurd kid, every extra word she spoke just made her feel more mentally exhausted.
"No way. Heavy armor is the romance of men. You wouldn’t understand."
Steven shook his head firmly.
Being wrapped in Netherite Armor gave him a sense of security.
He was just a weak, helpless, and pitiful little Minecrafter—how could he possibly go out unprotected?
"You don’t need to wear it all the time. If you really insist on covering your face in combat, the pumpkin head from before will do."
Kal’tsit sighed, suddenly feeling like the pumpkin option wasn’t so unacceptable after all.
At this point, she was afraid that if she let him keep going, he’d eventually pull out something even more bizarre.
Hearing Kal’tsit’s reluctant compromise, Steven hesitated for a moment before finally putting away the Sentinel Head he was about to equip.
He had originally planned to try out a Piglin head next.
"Tsk, you should’ve said 'pumpkin' from the start."
"This is just like a client looking at dozens of design revisions, only to choose the first version in the end."
Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Arrival at the World's Most Chaotic City—Rhodes Island
Chapter Text
After an uncertain amount of time in flight, the Rhodes Island aircraft finally descended smoothly onto a landing pad.
Steven, having temporarily removed his Netherite armor, stood at the exit of the aircraft, squinting as he took in the strange structure beneath him.
Actually… calling it a "structure" didn’t feel quite right.
After all, Steven had never seen a building that could move around like a vehicle.
From a certain perspective… maybe this thing was just a super-sized mobile home?
After thinking about it for a while, Steven could only come to this vague conclusion.
Though, if he were to be more precise, this vehicle crammed full of makeshift constructions actually resembled a land-based aircraft carrier more than anything else.
At the very least, in terms of sheer size, it might even surpass a standard aircraft carrier.
How the hell does a world where people still fight like medieval barbarians have the tech to build a massive mobile city and the aircraft they just rode in?
Steven was seriously confused.
How were the tech trees even allocated in this messed-up world?!
"Welcome to the mobile landship—Rhodes Island."
Outcast stretched lazily as she stepped off the aircraft first, introducing the moving fortress she worked and fought for.
Meanwhile, Steven dragged along a still half-asleep Gladiia, who was rubbing her drowsy eyes, as he slowly followed her down.
Strangely enough, despite standing on a massive moving platform, there wasn’t even the slightest sense of instability.
It felt just like solid ground, making it hard to believe that the gigantic structure had just been speeding along the terrain moments ago.
Even for someone like Steven, who had seen all kinds of weird things, this technology was pretty impressive.
But what really caught his attention… was Kal’tsit’s expression.
That cold, eternally pissed-off woman, who always looked like the world owed her millions in debt, actually had a calm and gentle smile on her face.
And in her eyes?
A look of deep affection.
Wait a damn second.
Was that… doting?
Steven could hardly believe it.
Unfortunately for him, that expression was not meant for him.
From behind the aircraft’s open deck, a set of hurried footsteps echoed.
Then, a dark silhouette quickly rushed out, as if wanting to jump into Kal’tsit’s arms—but at the last second, the figure stopped abruptly, hesitating for some reason.
"Welcome back, Doctor Kal’tsit."
A sweet and youthful voice rang out.
That was enough to finally pull Steven’s gaze away from Kal’tsit’s rare smile.
If only he had a phone—he would definitely have taken a picture to commemorate this once-in-a-lifetime event.
Instead, he turned his attention to the young girl standing in front of Kal’tsit.
She was petite, almost the same height as Irene, but unlike her, this girl didn’t have feathered wings sprouting from her head.
Instead, two tall, fluffy rabbit ears stood upright atop her head.
Thanks to those long ears, even though she was a head shorter than Kal’tsit, she could still appear roughly the same height when standing next to her.
"Mm, I’m back."
Kal’tsit nodded gently at the girl, her soft smile never fading.
Her tone of voice was so warm and affectionate that Steven couldn’t help but start questioning reality.
Did Kal’tsit got kidnapped and replaced by some alien while he wasn’t looking?
"Is she her daughter?"
Silently shifting to Outcast’s side, Steven lowered his voice and asked.
"No, this is the leader of Rhodes Island."
Outcast’s gaze toward the girl carried the same kind of affection an elder would have for a younger generation. However, compared to Kal’tsit, her expression was much more restrained.
But that "leader" part… Steven didn’t quite understand.
This girl doesn’t look older than twelve or thirteen.
Shouldn’t she be in middle school at this age?
And yet, she’s the leader of this obviously complex organization?
Wait… could it be that she’s also some young-looking immortal granny like Kal’tsit?
Steven took another glance at the girl, who was clearly resisting the urge to throw herself into Kal’tsit’s arms and act spoiled, and shook his head.
No, she didn’t seem like it.
Most importantly, she lacked that subtle but distinct aura—the kind that only comes with time.
The scent of the elderly, so to speak.
"Don’t look at her like that," Outcast sighed. "She may be young, but in terms of leadership, she is indeed qualified."
Clearly, she knew exactly what Steven was thinking.
After patting his shoulder, she spoke the truth.
"So Kal’tsit is basically her regent?"
Steven narrowed his eyes.
He had no trouble believing in the existence of prodigies—this was, after all, a world born from a gacha game.
But to say this girl was leading Rhodes Island entirely on her own, without Kal’tsit or anyone else guiding her?
Yeah. Not buying it.
Some things simply require experience, especially when it comes to leading an entire organization.
Outcast didn’t respond, but from the way she shrugged, Steven knew he had guessed correctly.
At this moment, the girl who had been chatting with Kal’tsit finally took notice of the two additional passengers from the aircraft.
With a look of curiosity, she stepped toward Steven, tilting her small head up ever so slightly.
At less than 1.4 meters tall, she had no choice but to look up to see Steven’s face.
Even so, her expression remained warm and friendly.
"Are you Mr. Steve?"
Her voice was soft and clear.
"Dr. Kal’tsit has already informed me about you on the way here. Rhodes Island welcomes all friendly guests. It’s a pleasure to meet you—I’m Amiya."
Her sky-blue eyes curved into a crescent moon, and the petite girl did her best to express her goodwill toward Steven.
Her Rhodes Island uniform looked almost like a trench coat on her small frame, making her already slender body seem even more delicate.
But the most eye-catching detail was the crystal-like ornament hanging from her collar, glowing faintly like a gemstone.
Is that some kind of special accessory?
Steven felt curious, but instead of asking, he simply returned her greeting with a smile.
"Yeah, hello."
He lightly shook the hand Amiya had proactively extended, but as he did, his gaze subconsciously drifted to the title floating above her head.
—[The Prophesied Lord of Fiends: Amiya]—
Steven’s mind went blank for a moment.
…This title is kinda wild.
Chapter 46: Chapter 46: My Heart is Big
Chapter Text
After a brief encounter with Amiya, the leader of Rhodes Island, Kal'tsit seemed to notice the change in the way Steven looked at her.
Almost immediately, she found an excuse, claiming she had more to discuss with Amiya, and quickly instructed Outcast to take Steven and Gladiia to receive medical treatment.
She looked just like a mother cat protecting her kitten.
Steven really wanted to clarify one thing—he wasn’t some kind of monster who treated murder and arson as a daily routine. He wouldn’t just target this girl simply because of her title.
It’s not like she had done anything to provoke him, right?
But considering that explaining his knowledge of these matters would be tricky, Steven shrugged and decided to put the issue aside for now.
With Outcast, a Rhodes Island elite operator, leading the way, Steven didn’t have to worry about getting lost in this massive and complex mobile ship.
However, at the same time, it meant he had fewer opportunities to explore the place on his own.
Fortunately, Outcast had mentioned that after Gladiia's medical examination and a brief introduction to their dorms, they would be free to explore within the permitted areas of the landship.
Steven could understand the precaution—after all, no one would feel comfortable letting a total stranger wander around their home unsupervised.
He had plenty of time anyway. He could explore the place slowly.
"Since Dr. Kal'tsit already gave instructions, we don’t have to go through the formal reception process. Up ahead is the medical room. After we finish the check-up for the lady beside you, I’ll take you to familiarize yourself with the dorms."
After walking for about ten minutes, Outcast finally stopped in front of a room. Behind her was a wide corridor resembling a hospital ward.
Judging from the people dressed as doctors occasionally walking out, these were most likely patient rooms.
"There's something I've been really curious about—what exactly does this so-called Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals company do?"
Steven paused just as he was about to lead Gladiia inside, turning instead to the angelic-looking woman whom he had grown somewhat familiar with, his curiosity piqued.
They called themselves a pharmaceutical company, yet whether it was Kal'tsit’s strange pet, Outcast’s firearm, or even this bizarre landship, everything seemed more like some kind of terrifying bioweapon organization rather than a simple medical company.
If he had to compare it to something familiar, Rhodes Island felt eerily similar to Umbrella Corporation from Resident Evil.
"Of course, we help the Infected. More specifically, we are dedicated to developing treatments for Oripathy and curing those afflicted by it."
Outcast casually answered, mentioning several unfamiliar terms that piqued Steven’s interest.
She could understand why he was asking—sometimes, even she found it odd how the things she did connected to the mission she claimed to be following.
"I don’t really understand the specifics, though. I'm getting old, and I don't want to think too much about these things. If you're that curious, ask Kal'tsit. Or Amiya. If all else fails, go ask PRTS—it’s an AI, so it should be more than happy to answer your questions. Just don’t torture an old woman like me with them."
Clearly unwilling to continue the topic, Outcast waved him off impatiently.
Seeing no other choice, Steven simply shrugged, then led Gladiia through the alcohol-scented doorway into the medical room.
Before Steven could even reach for the handle, the so-called medical room door suddenly flew open on its own. A girl with long brown hair shot out like a bullet, dashing right underneath him.
She was incredibly fast, but not to the point that Steven couldn't react.
While avoiding a direct collision, he caught a clear glimpse of her dog-like, perked-up ears atop her head, as well as the bottle clamped between her teeth, exuding a strong scent of alcohol.
Before he could even process the situation, something strange—something resembling a hammer—came hurtling toward him.
"Ceobe! How many times have I told you that the medical room’s alcohol is not for drinking?! Do you really want me to knock out all your teeth so you can never eat your favorite honey cakes again?!"
A voice—clear and firm, yet carrying a tinge of exasperation—rang out right as the hammer-like object came flying.
Now was hardly the time to ponder the details. Steven instinctively raised a hand and caught the object that was supposed to smack him right in the head.
‘Gotta say, that thing packed quite a punch… though the aim left much to be desired.’
"Miss, before you go chasing after that girl, shouldn't you at least apologize first?"
Steven was willing to believe that the green-haired girl now rushing out of the medical room hadn't meant to hit him. But still, that didn't mean he was just going to let it slide. If it had been someone else standing here, they might've ended up seriously hurt.
"Huh?"
The green-haired girl froze for a moment, clearly not expecting to run into someone right outside the medical room.
Realizing her mistake, she quickly bowed in apology, her face filled with embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry! I really didn’t expect anyone to be standing— Normally, this time of day is break time. I’m truly, truly sorry!"
She bowed repeatedly, clearly aware of her mistake.
Steven, still holding the hammer-like object, decided not to make a fuss about it.
Her sincere apology, coupled with the fact that it was unintentional—and that he technically hadn't knocked before approaching—made it hard for him to hold a grudge.
However…
As the green-haired girl looked up at him with hopeful, pleading eyes, Steven simply extended his hand, palm open before her.
"Compensate me, and I’ll forgive you."
"Huh?!"
"It’s because of the mental distress and physical treatment fees—you decide how much."
Steven's tone remained calm and indifferent, showing no sign of being swayed by the girl’s beauty.
Wrong is wrong. She had to take responsibility for her actions.
This wasn’t him being petty—it was simply a matter of principle!
Chapter 47: Chapter 47: I'm Going to Call It Harassment
Chapter Text
"Are you sure this is the kind of apology you want?"
The green-haired girl’s expression turned a bit strange.
If she didn’t know for a fact that her staff could actually cause serious harm if it hit someone, she might have thought this guy was just trying to scam her.
No one would risk their own safety just to extort a little money, right?
"Of course. It’s a simple exchange of benefits—between two complete strangers like us, isn’t that the most sincere form of apology? Or do you have a better idea?"
Steven maintained his outstretched hand, completely shameless about asking for compensation.
"You’re not wrong. That actually makes sense."
Scratching her head, the girl didn’t seem too bothered by Steven’s blunt reasoning.
She pulled out her wallet and carefully counted a few sky-blue banknotes, each marked with the number 100 and some strange symbols, before handing them over to him.
"Here, 2,000 Lungmen dollars. I controlled my strength, so even if you were hit, the worst you’d get is a fracture. The average treatment cost for a bone fracture is about 1,200, and the remaining 800 covers my personal apology plus your so-called mental distress compensation. Fair enough?"
She seriously calculated and listed out the compensation breakdown, watching Steven closely for his response.
She wasn’t lying—this was a fair calculation.
But if Steven tried to push his luck any further, she wouldn’t hesitate to treat him like an extortionist and demonstrate her ultimate spinning flaming wheel attack.
Fortunately, Steven wasn’t planning to argue.
He simply accepted the unfamiliar banknotes, carefully counted them to confirm the amount, and then nodded in satisfaction before handing the hammer-like staff back to her.
He had no idea what the purchasing power of this money was, but judging from the serious expression on the girl’s face, he decided to trust her.
If he found out later that he had been shortchanged, he could always come back and look for her—after all, she was clearly a member of Rhodes Island, as indicated by the work badge pinned to her chest.
"Go ahead, you can continue chasing after that girl now. Based on my observation, she ran off in that direction."
Steven stepped aside with Gladiia, even thoughtfully pointing out the escape route of the brown-haired girl.
He didn’t mislead her for the sake of amusement—after all, part of the reason he almost got hit by the staff was thanks to that girl.
However, after all this back-and-forth, the green-haired girl seemed to lose her motivation to continue the chase.
Instead, she gave Steven and Gladiia a curious look, scrutinizing them properly for the first time.
"Forget about her for now. I’m more interested in knowing—where are you from? Why were you standing outside the medical room? Are you here to see someone?"
She was certain that there wasn’t anyone like Steven on Rhodes Island. But what intrigued her even more was the girl standing behind him.
White hair, red eyes, and elf-like ears—it was hard not to be reminded of a certain night-dwelling shut-in operator who happened to be her superior.
"Huh? I’m just here to accompany her for a check-up. Speaking of which, where’s the doctor on duty?"
Steven answered honestly while also taking the opportunity to examine the girl in front of him.
At first, he had just assumed that anyone bold enough to rock green hair must be pretty strong. But now that he got a closer look, he was starting to notice even more interesting things about her.
For example, there was the strong, crocodile-like tail behind her, as well as the crystal-like accessory on her wrist—similar to the one he had seen on that little bunny girl’s chest earlier.
So… was this kind of accessory trending among girls these days?
"A check-up? I see. Come with me."
With an expression of understanding, the green-haired girl suddenly seemed to recall something and turned around, gesturing for Steven to follow her inside.
If she remembered correctly, that person had mentioned that Dr. Kal'tsit would be bringing two guests back today.
It must be these two.
As for Steven’s stated purpose, it made perfect sense to her—anyone who came to Rhodes Island was either applying to be an operator or seeking medical treatment.
After all, they were technically still a medical company, right?
"Wait, hold on. You mean… you’re the doctor?"
Steven looked at the girl in front of him with a puzzled expression.
No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t imagine someone who could wield that hammer-like weapon with one hand being a doctor.
She seemed more like the kind of person who sent people to the doctor instead.
"What else? Do I not look like one?"
Leading Steven to a medical table, the girl casually grabbed a white coat from a nearby chair, draped it over her shoulders, and then turned back to face him.
She gestured confidently toward herself, clearly proud of her profession and identity.
"No, no, it’s great. Makes sense."
Steven wasn’t the type to judge people based on appearances.
In a world where all sorts of bizarre things existed, why not a doctor like this too?
As the saying goes, never offend a chef or a doctor—the former might sneak something "special" into your food, while the latter… well, who knows what they might leave inside your body during surgery?
"Alright then, lie down here, and I’ll check your body first."
The girl patted the reclining chair beside the medical table, flashing Steven a sweet smile. But somehow, he didn’t see even a hint of warmth in her eyes.
"She’s the one who needs treatment, not me. I’m just the… uh, guardian."
Steven pointed at Gladiia, who had been half-asleep the whole time, barely reacting to anything around her.
Honestly, he envied her ability to stay drowsy no matter what was happening.
He hadn’t been quiet at all during their walk, yet she had remained in that dreamy, half-conscious state.
As for the green-haired doctor’s insistence on examining him? No way.
It was obvious she was trying to get back at him for making her pay up earlier—it was practically written all over her face.
Medical expenses were dictated by doctors, weren’t they? Steven had just received the money, and he wasn’t about to hand it right back.
"Oh, come on. You’re already here, might as well get a check-up too. Don’t worry, basic exams are completely free~ Let me see if your development is normal."
She reached out toward Steven, clearly intending to forcefully push him onto the medical bed.
And then she failed.
For the first time in her career, all the strength and expertise she had developed in restraining unruly patients ran into a solid, immovable wall.
No matter how much power she put into her deceptively slender arms, Steven remained completely unshaken—like a mountain embedded deep in the ground, with only its peak visible.
"No thanks. Also, your hand’s on my chest. If you keep pressing any harder, I’m going to call it harassment."
Glancing down at the small hand gripping his chest muscle, Steven very seriously reminded the doctor in front of him.
Chapter 48: Chapter 48: Are You After My Body?
Chapter Text
"Gavial, how many times have I told you to be gentler with patients? Can you stop trying to solve everything with brute force?"
Just as the atmosphere between Steven and the green-haired girl was getting awkward, a lazy-sounding female voice rang out from the entrance of the infirmary, breaking the strange tension.
A pale-skinned, white-haired girl walked in, holding a cup of coffee.
Her crimson eyes and elf-like pointed ears made Steven instinctively glance at Gladiia beside him.
Could this be the other Abyssal Hunter that Kal'tsit had mentioned? Gladiia's "kin"?
But hadn’t she also said this person was a patient? Why was she dressed like a doctor?
Steven’s confusion only deepened as he noticed the red cross emblem on the girl’s armband and the identification badge on her chest—both identical in design to the one worn by the green-haired girl in front of him.
But if Steven was confused, the new arrival was even more baffled.
She had just stepped in and taken stock of the scene—only to see Gavial with both hands firmly pressed against Steven’s chest.
From an outsider’s perspective, the pose they were in looked less like a medical examination and more like… something else entirely.
It was the kind of scene that suggested a very intense ‘workout session’ might take place on the infirmary bed at any moment.
"I mean, I’m not against you youngsters having your little flings, but this is a workplace. Can you at least keep it professional?"
Though she scolded them, the amusement in her crimson eyes made it clear she was enjoying the spectacle.
"I think you’re misunderstanding the situation. She was just trying to give me a physical exam."
Steven shrugged as he stated a fact that only made things sound even more misleading.
"Yeah, that’s all it was."
Now fully aware of how things looked, the green-haired girl hastily withdrew her hands from Steven’s chest and quickly added her own explanation.
—It had to be because she hadn’t gotten enough rest yesterday.
That was the only reason she hadn’t been able to push him down.
Right?
He didn’t even look that muscular.
By all logic, there was no way she shouldn’t have been able to move him.
Her mind was flooded with questions, her usual confidence in her own strength shaken for the first time.
"Ahem, let’s cut the jokes now."
Realizing that the show was over, the white-haired girl set down her coffee and approached Steven.
Her crimson eyes swept over both him and Gladiia, and she even wrinkled her cute little nose, as if she was analyzing their scents.
"So she is another Ægir Abyssal Hunter… but something about her condition is off."
With a single remark, she accurately identified Gladiia’s race and identity. Yet, there was no smugness in her tone—only curiosity.
Instead, her gaze turned to Steven, filled with the kind of confusion one might have upon spotting an alien.
Steven was starting to feel a little uncomfortable under her intense scrutiny when she finally looked away, turning to meet the eyes of the green-haired girl—Gavial.
"Go give that young lady over there a full medical examination. As for this gentleman, leave him to me and Dr. Kal'tsit."
"Did you hear that, Miss Gavial? You should go do your actual job instead of eyeing my body and my money."
Steven grinned as he spoke, immediately recognizing that the white-haired girl held a higher position than the green-haired one.
He even went so far as to call out her name, flaunting his borrowed authority with a smug expression.
There was nothing quite as enjoyable as a battle of wits.
He wasn’t actually upset with her.
At most, her actions earlier had been a joke—if she had managed to pin him down, the worst she would have done was extort back the money he had taken from her.
Still, that didn’t stop him from exchanging a few words with the green-haired girl—banter was one of his favorite pastimes.
"Got it."
Driven by her sense of responsibility, Gavial didn't go against her superior’s orders. She turned and gestured for the still-drowsy Gladiia to follow her into the examination room.
But before leaving, she shot Steven a look that all but promised revenge later.
He couldn’t help but feel a little excited.
He was curious to see what kind of surprises this slightly violent doctor had in store for him.
Once Gavial had led Gladiia away, Steven turned back—only to meet the unwavering gaze of the white-haired girl, who had been staring at him so intently that she had forgotten to drink her coffee.
"Let me just say this up front: I’m not a patient, I don’t want a check-up, and I definitely don’t want to be poked and prodded by a stranger. So whatever you’re thinking, forget it."
Her curiosity was practically radiating off of her. Steven could tell exactly what she wanted just by the way she was looking at him.
And he had no interest in becoming anyone’s test subject.
"Then let’s at least introduce ourselves properly."
Flashing a friendly smile, the girl ignored his rejection entirely and continued.
"Warfarin, Rhodes Island medical operator, and vice head of the medical department."
Steven didn’t need to think twice to know—just like Kal'tsit, this woman had noticed something about him.
Something that, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t seem to hide.
Oppressive presence?
Or something even worse?
Damn it. It’s not like they could see the title floating above his head.
Why were they all so cautious around him?
And as for why she could tell—Steven already had his suspicions.
Warfarin gave off the same kind of ancient aura as Kal'tsit, something that could only accumulate over a very long period of time.
Loli vampires? He had encountered plenty of those in anime. The trope had long since lost its novelty.
"Mhm, mhm. Nice to meet you. My name’s Steve."
Steven replied with the most half-hearted response possible, taking two steps back to put some distance between himself and the predatory expression on Warfarin’s face.
If Gavial’s gaze earlier had been playful, Warfarin’s was anything but.
He was pretty sure that if given the chance, she would drink his blood.
After all, it wasn’t normal to stare at someone’s neck the entire time you were talking to them.
"Steve? That’s… an unusual name. But no matter. May I make a small request?"
Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly as she lifted her gaze to meet his. A flicker of desire flashed through them.
Steven smiled back just as warmly, his eyes filled with sincerity as he responded.
"Absolutely not."
Chapter 49: Chapter 49: Let’s Start with Five Minutes
Chapter Text
Isn’t it common sense to show some sincerity before asking for a favor?
Steven narrowed his eyes.
He didn’t even have to think to know what this girl—Warfarin—wanted from him.
She was clearly after his body.
But he didn’t owe her anything, so why should he agree?
More importantly—what was he getting out of it?
"No need to reject me so decisively. We can at least have a little chat first—who knows? You might just change your mind."
Warfarin didn’t seem discouraged by his blunt refusal. Instead, she stepped forward, closing the distance Steven had deliberately put between them.
"I don’t think there’s much to talk about. I’m perfectly healthy—I don’t need to see a doctor."
Steven gave a hearty chuckle, but his stance remained firm.
A beautiful girl suddenly acting all friendly for no apparent reason? Yeah, right. He wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe this was simply a result of his charm.
"That’s what a lot of my patients say at first. And by the time they realize something’s wrong—well, it’s usually too late."
"Should I take that as a professional medical warning? Or are you secretly cursing me?"
Steven spread his hands, completely unfazed.
No one knew his physical condition better than he did.
His status screen was right there—aside from one pesky debuff, [Rejection of World Will I], that seemed permanently stuck on his interface, everything else confirmed his peak condition.
He could probably punch through ten bulls in a row without breaking a sweat.
"Of course not. But since you seem so against it, I suppose I’ll drop the subject. After all, everyone has their own secrets—things they don’t want others to find out, right?"
Seeing that Steven had no intention of budging, Warfarin decided not to push further. She casually stepped back and returned to her seat behind the medical desk, resting her cheek on one hand.
But her gaze never left him.
The scent coming off this man was unlike anything she had encountered in her long life.
It didn’t belong to any known species in this world.
Yet, for Warfarin, there was something about it—something irresistible.
For a moment, she had almost lost control of her instincts. The urge to taste his blood was overwhelming.
But ultimately, rationality prevailed.
Her instincts also warned her—if she did act on her impulse, she might end up facing something terrifying.
"Come on, could you not stare at me like that? I know I’m handsome, but still, that’s gotta cost extra."
Steven scratched his head, feeling more than a little uncomfortable under her unwavering gaze.
What was it with these ancient grandma pretending to be young girls? One was a riddle-spewing enigma, and the other looked at him like she was literally about to eat him.
Honestly, Outcast and Saint Carmen—who made no effort to hide their actual ages—were way easier to deal with.
Then again, he wasn’t really in a position to judge. He wasn’t exactly a young man himself.
And personality-wise… yeah, even he admitted he was kind of weird.
"Alright then. Here’s a thousand LMD—let’s start with five minutes."
To Steven’s surprise, a neat stack of banknotes—the same kind Gavial had given him earlier—was suddenly placed in front of him.
Before he could react, Warfarin’s pale, almost sickly face was already way too close for comfort.
Since she had already paid, Warfarin’s gaze became even more unrestrained—it was almost as if she were just a step away from reaching out and touching him.
“Tsk. Let’s just have a normal conversation, alright? You’re kinda creeping me out.”
At this moment, Steven finally understood what it felt like for others when they had to deal with his unpredictable nature. It was probably exactly like this.
The problem was, he was the one who made the offer. Now that she had actually paid up, he couldn't just shamelessly go back on his word.
Rather than standing here awkwardly while being visually violated, he figured they might as well pass the time with some conversation.
That technically counted as fulfilling her request to chat first, right?
“Hmm, what would Mr. Steve like to ask? I’m listening. I have quite a few questions myself, but I’m a little worried you might find them offensive. So, why don’t you go first?”
Despite her words, Warfarin’s gaze still didn’t shift away from Steven.
“You sure you’re not gonna start speaking in riddles?”
Steven frowned slightly and asked a question that seemed completely unrelated to the current situation.
“Riddles? Oh, I think I get what you mean.”
Warfarin paused for a moment before realizing who he was referring to. Covering her mouth with a soft chuckle, she reassured him:
“Don’t worry. While I do get along fairly well with Kal'tsit, I’m nowhere near as cryptic as she is. As long as your questions aren’t too difficult to answer, I’ll do my best to explain.”
“Good. Actually, there’s something that’s been bugging me for a while now, and I wasn’t sure who to ask about it. But since you guys research this stuff, you might be able to give me an answer.”
Steven stroked his chin, carefully choosing his words before finally voicing a question that had been lingering in his mind for a long time.
“What exactly is Originium? And what is Oripathy?”
This issue had been bothering Steven for quite some time.
In this world, magic was referred to as Originium Arts, and both Outcast and Kal’tsit frequently mentioned Oripathy.
Even that synthetic creature he fought in the abandoned church had dropped something called Unstable Originium Shards.
So what the hell was this stuff, exactly?
Steven felt like he needed to figure it out.
It wasn’t that he was that curious about Originium itself, but rather—he had tested something earlier.
Surprisingly, Originium could actually be used as an equivalent exchange item to generate EMC points.
Normally, that mod only recognized items from the base version of Minecraft. So Steven had been wondering for a while now—what was the most efficient and practical way to farm EMC?
If Originium turned out to be something easily obtainable, then he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of points to exchange for items in the future.
After all, even a single Unstable Originium Shard was roughly equivalent to a gold ingot in EMC value.
And since it was something that monsters dropped—wasn’t that basically an endless gold mine?
Chapter 50: Chapter 50: Originium and Oripathy
Chapter Text
“Are you... really human?”
As soon as Steven asked his question, Warfarin frowned.
She had been expecting something odd from him, but this?
No—this went beyond simply being strange.
Even the muscle-headed Sargonians back in Gavial’s homeland, whose brains were practically made of solid muscle, knew exactly how terrifying Oripathy was.
Yet this guy was asking about it as if he had never even heard of it?
It was hard not to start questioning his identity.
She had heard that the Ægir from the deep sea weren’t affected by Originium’s influence. Could he be one of them?
But… his scent wasn’t right.
“One hundred percent human.”
Steven shrugged.
“And come on, what kind of logic is that? Just because I don’t know about this stuff, that somehow means I’m not human? Since when did this become basic common sense?”
“Since forever. This is something that basically everyone on Terra understands.”
Warfarin muttered under her breath, but she didn’t dodge the question or speak in riddles like Kal’tsit tended to do.
After all, Originium and Oripathy were fundamental knowledge for anyone born and raised on this land.
“Fine, then just treat me like some clueless newborn baby.”
The more Warfarin emphasized how obvious this knowledge was, the more Steven became interested.
He had never heard of a world that placed so much importance on a specific mineral and a disease.
Even back in his own time, oil wasn’t that much of a big deal.
“Tsk. Explaining Originium in detail isn’t something I can do in just a few minutes.”
Warfarin sighed before giving him a broad explanation.
“Think of it as a kind of universal energy source. Everything on this land—whether it’s industry, technology, or Originium Arts—exists because of this mineral.”
She was just about to warn him about how dangerous it was when—
Steven casually pulled a glowing orange crystal from his pants pocket.
“You mean this thing?”
“What the hell?! YOU’RE JUST CARRYING THAT AROUND?!”
Warfarin immediately backed away from him, her face twisted in shock.
She had been standing close to Steven to get a better look at him, but if she had known he had that in his pocket, she never would’ve come anywhere near him—no matter how curious she was.
That crystal in his hand wasn’t just any ordinary piece of Originium.
It wasn’t the kind found in naturally occurring deposits.
It wasn’t the kind extracted for industrial use.
No—this was the kind that formed inside dead Infected.
A volatile chunk of Originium that could explode at any moment.
Even for a Sarkaz Vampire like Warfarin, direct contact with something that unstable had a very high chance of infecting her.
How the hell was this lunatic just casually carrying it around in his pocket like it was some random rock he picked up off the ground?!
Did Kal’tsit not even bother checking what this guy was bringing onto the island?!
“Huh? Wait, this stuff is actually dangerous?”
Steven held up the orange crystal between his fingers and examined it closely.
From what he could see, it wasn’t emitting anything unusual.
Even his status bar was completely quiet.
If he hadn’t known that this crystal came from those stitched-together abominations he fought earlier, he might have already tried putting one in his mouth just to see what it tasted like.
After all, this thing actually had a hunger restoration value attached to it.
And if there was one thing a Minecraft player couldn’t resist, it was the urge to test-eat any item that claimed to be edible—no matter how suspicious it seemed.
Rotten potatoes, spider eyes, rotten flesh, pufferfish—those were nothing. If the Nether Star actually displayed a hunger value, Steven would’ve already taken a bite just to check how salty it was.
“It’s not about whether it’s dangerous. Just keep that thing the hell away from me.”
Warfarin shrank back a little, putting over two meters of distance between herself and Steven—just to be safe.
No one could guarantee that thing wouldn’t explode at any second, right?
“Alright, looks like it’s even worse than I thought.”
Steven shrugged and stuffed the Unstable Originium Shard back into his inventory.
But to Warfarin, it just looked like he casually shoved it back into his pocket.
She had just warned him about how deadly that thing was, and he still had the nerve to do that? Was he fearless, or just plain brain-dead?
“You—ugh, whatever. Let me make this clear.”
Warfarin’s expression grew serious—completely different from her usual carefree attitude.
“That thing could explode at any time. And if you get hit by even a single fragment—if it so much as scratches you or comes into contact with an open wound—you’ll have an extremely high chance of getting infected.”
Her words weren’t just a simple warning. There was a weight behind them.
“That disease you were wondering about—Oripathy? That’s exactly how it spreads. Right now, there’s no cure. Once you’re infected, you’re basically under a death sentence. Not only will you have to suffer from the disease itself, but when you die, you’ll just end up infecting even more people.”
A fleeting sadness passed through Warfarin’s eyes.
She had joined Rhodes Island because she wanted to find a cure. But looking at the current situation… she still had a long way to go.
“Oh, so it’s basically a contagious disease. And once you get it, you’re screwed?”
Steven scratched his head.
He was starting to understand what this so-called Oripathy was.
So it was basically a contagious cancer? Mutated AIDS?
“If that’s the case, then just stop using it. Find another energy source.”
Compared to AIDS, which required fluid transmission or sexual contact, this disease seemed like it only spread through direct exposure to Originium.
Which meant that, in theory, it should be easy to control, right?
“You make it sound so simple.”
Warfarin let out a sigh.
“Do you think anyone on this land can just stop relying on Originium? Without it, how would people survive the Catastrophes? How would they produce anything? How would they even live?”
Steven’s question had hit straight at the core of the issue.
People knew how dangerous Originium was.
But in order to survive, they had no choice but to keep using it—even if it meant poisoning themselves in the process.
“Well, I can.”
Steven mumbled under his breath.
If he wanted to, he could solve this entire continent’s problem. No, not just the continent—he could completely free this whole world from its reliance on Originium.
From what Warfarin described, this stuff was basically a worse version of Redstone—with extra side effects.
And if it was just that?
He could make as much of it as he wanted.
It wasn’t nearly as rare as people made it out to be.
Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Can I Make a Lot of Money?
Chapter Text
Of course, Steven had no intention of actually taking out Redstone.
He came to this world for entertainment, not to start an industrial revolution.
Whether these people used Originium for electricity or nuclear power had absolutely nothing to do with him.
They could use whatever they wanted—he wasn’t going to interfere.
As for Oripathy? That was even less of his concern.
Like Warfarin had said, it was their choice.
If they decided to rely on Originium as an energy source, then they also had to bear the consequences.
Steven didn’t have some chosen hero complex just because he was a transmigrator.
Taking it easy and enjoying his life was way more comfortable than dealing with some massive save-the-world headache.
Why go looking for trouble?
Besides, Redstone wasn’t something he could just casually show to people.
If he actually revealed it, the impact would be way bigger than the potato incident.
At the end of the day, potatoes only brought an agricultural revolution.
At most, they solved a food shortage.
But Redstone?
That would completely shake the foundations of industry.
An infinite energy source—a mineral that never ran out—would be world-breaking in any civilization.
Steven wasn’t dumb enough to hand over something that dangerous just to show off.
He had given potatoes to Iberia’s Inquisition because even a crumbling government could still handle farming. And even if the secret got out, no one was going to start a war over potatoes.
Like he said himself—he basically hired an entire Iberia to farm for him. Sure, he had to give up some profits, but the Inquisition also took on all the risks.
But Redstone was different.
If the world found out what it could do, the global balance of power would shift instantly. A world war wouldn’t even be out of the question.
Just look at how far a certain country was willing to go for oil—that was all the proof he needed.
That kind of chaos?
No, thanks.
Steven loved watching drama unfold, but he had zero interest in being the one to start it.
Who knew what kind of crazy people would start coming after him?
He had no intention of becoming the world’s next biggest entertainment piece.
So as long as he didn’t need to use Redstone, he had absolutely no plans to show it off.
“Now do you finally understand how dangerous that thing in your pocket is?”
Warfarin let out a sigh.
“My advice? The next time Rhodes Island stops for supplies, go dig a hole and bury it somewhere. Or, better yet, hand it over to the lunatics in the processing station—you might even get some Lungmen dollars for it.”
She had seen Steven staring off into space for a while and assumed he was finally realizing just how dangerous that Unstable Originium Shard really was.
Honestly, the fact that he had been carrying it around this whole time without getting infected was already a miracle.
This only made Warfarin even more curious about his body’s resistance to Originium.
The only ones with that kind of immunity were the Abyssal Hunters.
So this guy… was he really an Ægir?
Her curiosity burned.
Warfarin was dying to taste Steven’s blood.
Only that would give her the answers she sought.
Unfortunately for her, Steven wasn’t about to give her the chance.
"So your job is to research a cure for the disease caused by Originium and treat those already infected?"
Steven didn't seem to care much about the explosion risk Warfarin mentioned. No matter how dangerous something was, once it went into his inventory, it had to behave.
What interested him more was this "Oripathy" she spoke of.
"That's right. At least, that’s my goal—to find a cure for Oripathy. It’s also what most of Rhodes Island’s medical operators are striving for."
"But if I remember correctly, you said earlier that just coming into contact with Originium carries a risk of infection, right? Aren't you afraid?"
"So what? In the end, when we’re on duty, they are patients, and we are doctors. We just have to do our jobs."
Warfarin’s expression was calm, completely different from how she had recoiled when Steven was holding the Unstable Originium Shard.
Steven actually found her words believable.
Back in his own world, there were plenty of doctors who also risked their lives fighting on the frontlines against deadly diseases.
To be honest, he had a lot of respect for the medical profession. If he hadn’t been isekai’d, he might have even considered studying medicine himself.
But there was no "what if" anymore.
Even so, with his current abilities, playing doctor wasn’t entirely out of the question. A splash of milk, a healing potion, or a golden apple—he could probably make even the Grim Reaper retire.
"You’re asking all this… but it doesn’t really have anything to do with you, does it?"
Warfarin narrowed her eyes slightly.
"I don’t see any Originium crystals on your body. Or… is it that someone you care about is infected?"
She was curious. This guy had clearly never even heard of Oripathy before. So why was he suddenly so interested?
That Ægir girl he brought along didn’t show any symptoms either, so Warfarin could only make a simple guess.
"No, I don’t have anyone I care about. Well… not at the moment."
Steven shook his head casually.
He wasn’t denying that someone he knew had Oripathy.
He was denying the entire concept of him having anyone he cared about.
To be honest, after living for so long, he didn’t even care much about himself.
"I was just curious. Hypothetically speaking—just hypothetically—if someone actually could cure this so-called Oripathy… then…"
His fingers rubbed together in a classic "money" gesture.
"Would it make a lot of money?"
A sly, merchant-like grin spread across his face.
Steven wasn’t that interested in money itself.
But the chaos this would bring?
Now that was something worth watching.
Becoming a wandering miracle doctor, saving the sick and treating the infected, sounded like the perfect setup for a drama-packed adventure.
A full-health character strolling through chaos with a half-dead look, acting all mysterious? Peak character design.
And on top of that, it guaranteed he’d have stories to hear wherever he went.
"If you really had a cure for Oripathy, forget anything else—Rhodes Island would treat you like a god and worship the ground you walk on."
Warfarin let out a sigh.
She wasn’t taking Steven’s words seriously.
But for some reason, his comment seemed to have reminded her of something unpleasant.
"Why’s that?"
"Because at least two-thirds of Rhodes Island’s operators… are infected with Oripathy."
The response didn’t come from Warfarin.
At the doorway—where the brown-haired girl had slammed the door open earlier—stood Kal'tsit.
Beside her, the girl who had introduced herself as Amiya stepped forward, answering Steven’s question.
Chapter 52: Chapter 52: You’ve Got to Show Some Sincerity First
Chapter Text
"Kal'tsit? I thought you'd spend more time with Amiya. While you were away, she kept bothering me quite a lot."
The moment Warfarin saw that it was Kal'tsit, she instantly lost interest in Steven, as if all the curiosity and desire in her eyes had never existed.
Some things, after all, couldn’t be shared—not even with a colleague.
Quickly changing the subject, Warfarin pulled Amiya into the conversation, making her the center of attention.
After all, whenever Amiya was involved, that old lynx Kal'tsit wouldn’t be as sharp as usual. Warfarin knew this quite well.
"Compared to reporting on previous work to Amiya, welcoming our guest is clearly more important right now."
Kal'tsit glanced at Warfarin, clearly noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor.
She hesitated for only a moment before shifting her full attention to Steven.
"Just now, I overheard you outside. Did you say that you have a way to cure Oripathy?"
Unlike Warfarin, who assumed Steven was just joking, Kal'tsit took this matter very seriously.
She was well aware that this young man’s origins were likely even more mysterious than those of the Abyssal Hunters. And from what little she had learned about him, she knew that when he started showing interest in something, it usually meant he was planning to do something about it.
More importantly, based on her brief understanding of Steven, he wouldn’t have asked such a question unless he already had a solution in mind.
"And what if I said no? Would you believe me?"
Steven chuckled and flashed a mysterious smile at the green-haired woman.
A riddle for a riddle.
Wasn’t she the one who loved making him decipher vague statements?
Well, this time, she could have a taste of her own medicine.
"This matter is crucial—not just to Rhodes Island, but to this entire land. Please don't make jokes about something so important."
Seeing Steven’s teasing expression, Kal'tsit’s gaze grew even more serious.
This wasn’t just about Oripathy.
It was about a promise—a dying wish entrusted to her by someone dear.
She couldn’t afford to take it lightly.
Her voice carried firm resolve, and she completely abandoned her usual cryptic way of speaking.
She knew all too well that if she continued speaking in riddles, Steven would probably just turn around and leave.
"And what does that have to do with me? I was just asking a question. Is that not allowed?"
Steven maintained his relaxed demeanor.
He hadn’t claimed he could cure Oripathy.
But he also hadn’t denied it.
To be fair, he genuinely didn’t know the answer.
After all, he had never been infected, nor had he seen Oripathy up close.
He couldn’t just blindly assume he could cure it.
What if the cure required a Golden Apple?
Would he have to feed it to each patient mouth to mouth, just like before?
It wouldn’t be so bad if they were all beauties like Gladiia…
But there were men in this world too!
What if he had to kiss Carmen or something?
Now that would be seriously messed up.
"…"
Steven’s response left Kal'tsit speechless.
He had absolutely no obligation to help her.
In fact, the only reason he was even here at Rhodes Island was because she had invited him.
"I believe… Mr. Steve, you mentioned something about making money earlier, correct?"
At this critical moment, it was Amiya—the rabbit-eared girl who had been following Kal'tsit—who remained the most clear-headed.
She spoke up, offering her own perspective.
Ever since entering the room, she had been closely observing Steven.
And the moment she noticed that he might know something, she quickly reached a conclusion.
"Perhaps we could offer you a financial incentive? As compensation for your assistance. What do you think?"
Before negotiating, you have to lay out your chips first
"See? Look at you—you've lived so long, yet you still don't see things as clearly as a little kid. If you'd mentioned money earlier, this would've just been a simple transaction, wouldn't it?"
Steven turned his head and glanced at the small rabbit-eared girl beside him.
So well-behaved and sensible—this was how you approached someone with a request. Lay out the benefits first.
Now this was the sincerity he needed.
Speaking of which, she might actually be more suitable than Gladiia as a daughter to raise.
Not that Gladiia was bad or anything, but in every possible way…
She was just too big.
Her bear-like strength, those thick thighs, and that eyes-inviting backside… yeah.
This tiny, cute type? Now that was more in line with Steven's image of a daughter.
"This is all you want?"
Kal'tsit didn't catch on to Steven's train of thought.
She was still caught up in the shock of him actually accepting Amiya’s offer.
Who would’ve thought that a guy whose logic was a complete mystery would actually work just for money?
Even she hadn’t predicted that.
"Of course that's not all. But at least she showed a little sincerity first, didn't she? So I can also give you a little hint—
As long as this Oripathy you're talking about is really just a disease, then I might have some way to deal with it."
Steven held up his thumb and index finger, making a tiny gap between them.
But even that little bit was enough to make Kal'tsit feel a deep sense of astonishment.
He actually has a way?
Back when she first invited Steven to Rhodes Island, she had a feeling he might bring some surprises.
But she hadn’t expected the surprise to be this big.
"Wait, hold on—Kal'tsit, don’t tell me you actually believe that this guy, who didn’t even know what Originium or Oripathy was, somehow has a way to cure it? Are you insane, or am I?"
Warfarin, who had been watching the drama unfold, couldn't stay silent any longer.
No matter how mysterious Steven was, he had definitely asked her with complete sincerity about what Originium was just a while ago.
And now, this same clueless guy?
Kal'tsit actually believed he had a solution?
Warfarin clutched her forehead.
Her worldview was crumbling.
Was she dreaming?
Otherwise, how could she be seeing something this ridiculous?
"Sigh, I was just saying if, right? I never said I didn’t have a way. Tell you what—I've got time anyway. How about you bring me one of those Oripathy patients and let me take a look? Then I'll decide if I can actually do something about it."
Steven couldn't sit still anymore.
Doubting his abilities?
What a joke.
Who said he couldn't do it?
A Minecraft player's primitive methods were still methods, after all.
As for whether they worked or not…
Well, you wouldn’t know until you tried, would you?
He had just presented the best possible solution, and now he waited for the response from the two old cucumbers in front of him.
Besides, he wanted to test something—
How much of Minecraft’s mechanics could actually function in this world?
First, he’d start with milk.
Now that he had the Equivalent Exchange mod, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of supplies for the time being.
Chapter 53: Chapter 53: Unexpected Situation
Chapter Text
"I'll do it."
"No, you won't. Anyone else can, but definitely not you. I'll inform the infected operators later and see if any of them are willing to accept your so-called treatment."
Kal'tsit and Warfarin rejected Amiya’s request in unison.
Until they could confirm whether Steven’s "treatment" was actually effective, there was no way they would let her expose herself to such risks.
Not to mention, with her unique physical condition, she probably wouldn’t be able to handle whatever Steven had in mind.
"Why are you acting like I'm some kind of man-eating monster? Relax, I'm hardly a mad scientist—I have zero interest in human experimentation or body modifications. If anything, I’ve always believed in healing through diet."
Steven was amused by their extreme reactions.
Why did treating an illness feel like he was about to commit murder?
Sure, Oripathy was considered incurable, but it’s not like his treatment method involved surgery or anything.
No injections, no scalpels—just medicine.
And an excessive amount of milk.
Speaking of which, it was about time to force-feed Gladiia a whole bucket of milk.
Might as well check if memory loss counted as a debuff, right?
"And that is exactly why it sounds so unreliable."
Warfarin massaged her temples, exasperated.
If Steven had just stayed quiet, she might have been able to take him somewhat seriously.
But the more he spoke, the sketchier he sounded.
Oripathy was something that fused directly with the body’s cells.
It wasn’t some mild ailment you could fix with a healthy diet and good sleep.
If it were that simple, Oripathy wouldn’t be the eternal curse looming over this land.
"I believe you can do it. Whatever you need, Rhodes Island will provide. As long as you can cure Oripathy, we’re willing to pay any price."
Unlike Warfarin’s skepticism, Kal'tsit saw Steven differently.
She had long suspected that the secrets he carried were far beyond what even the enigmatic Abyssal Hunters possessed.
"Any price?"
Steven narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.
He suddenly looked just like the classic villains in novels—
The kind who smirk while cornering the female lead, about to say something like, "Kal'tsit, you wouldn’t want [REDACTED] to happen, would you?"
"If you can actually do it."
Kal'tsit remained unfazed by his expression, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination.
"Tsk, well, that’s boring. I don’t even know what I want right now."
Steven waved dismissively, losing interest in the act.
It wasn’t like he had anything specific in mind at the moment.
Or rather, the things he did want… were things Kal'tsit couldn't provide anyway.
For example—
If she could just hand over a few million points of WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) or EMC, he’d gladly dedicate himself to medical research and develop a cure for Oripathy in no time.
But since that wasn’t happening, there was nothing to discuss.
Not to mention, he wasn’t exactly thirsting after this old lynx.
Shifting his attention to Amiya—who had been quietly listening ever since her request was denied—Steven suddenly had an idea and leaned in.
"So, from what you two just said… this little one is also one of those so-called ‘infected’?"
"A medical company… putting a patient in charge as its leader?
Doesn't that sound a bit off?"
Steven glanced up and down, left and right, but no matter how hard he looked, the girl before him didn’t seem like someone suffering from a disease. His curiosity got the better of him.
How exactly did she end up leading such a massive organization?
Logically, it didn’t make sense.
The only explanations Steven could come up with were the classic crown prince ascension scenario or her being a mere puppet leader.
Either way, it seemed like Kal'tsit was heavily involved.
He almost instinctively reached out to ruffle this adorable little one’s fluffy hair, but at the last second, he reconsidered.
They weren’t exactly close, and who knew if this world had some ridiculous social customs? Best not to risk it.
"Because Doctor Kal'tsit said that only I could do this. To be honest, I don’t even know if I can… but I can’t betray the expectations of everyone in Rhodes Island."
Before Kal'tsit could respond, Amiya answered first.
The sheer seriousness in her voice made it hard to believe that she was only twelve or thirteen.
Steven couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her.
If this were a better world, at her age, she should still be in a phase where she could whine and act spoiled with her parents.
She should be enjoying a carefree student life, filled with laughter and free time.
Not burdened with this.
He glanced at Kal'tsit, who remained silent, her gaze betraying a hint of helplessness.
That confirmed it—Amiya was telling the truth.
And as Steven had suspected, she had likely been chosen for this role due to some inescapable circumstance.
He felt a slight fondness for the well-mannered bunny-eared girl.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t reason enough for him to offer her a free cure.
If it weren’t for the fact that he had personally caused Gladiia’s condition, he wouldn’t have bothered helping her either.
And Amiya's infection? That had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Just as Steven decided to drop the subject, he caught something strange in Amiya’s eyes.
A faint, fleeting glow flashed within those watery blue pupils.
Then—
It was as if something extended from her gaze and pierced into his consciousness.
Steven barely had time to register the sensation before—
"Ahh—!"
Amiya suddenly let out a cry of pain, clutching her head and dropping into a crouch.
Her long, upright rabbit ears flattened against her head, trembling as if she were being tortured by something invisible.
Kal'tsit and Warfarin hadn’t expected this sudden turn of events either. But they quickly reacted, rushing to support Amiya as she wavered.
"Uh… did she just try to read my mind?"
Steven finally rubbed his temples, piecing it together.
That weird sensation from earlier—it wasn’t just his imagination.
If his guess was correct, then the girl had just attempted some kind of mind-reading ability on him.
Whether she did it intentionally or not, well… that wasn’t his problem.
After all, if someone willingly dove into an abyss, they had only themselves to blame for drowning.
His mind was a nightmare—filled with nothing but centuries of endless repetition, the same monotonous cycles playing over and over again.
It had driven even him insane multiple times.
In a way, all those people who had ever thought Steven was mentally unstable...
Well, they weren’t exactly wrong.
Chapter 54: Chapter 54: Smaller Variety
Chapter Text
"Her ability isn't something she can fully control. Most of the time, she subconsciously reads other people's emotions."
Kal'tsit frowned. After helping Amiya lie down on a nearby hospital bed, she turned to Steven and calmly explained the situation.
She was well aware of Amiya’s powers, so she didn’t think Steven was attempting to do any harm to Amiya. In fact, the real priority now was to calm him down.
Nobody liked having their consciousness and memories exposed to someone else, even if it wasn’t intentional. There was no guarantee that Steven wouldn’t be angry about this.
Luckily, from his expression, he didn’t seem particularly bothered.
And indeed, he wasn’t.
Steven knew exactly what kind of mental state he was in. Having lived for centuries in a world with no one to talk to, no one understood his own mind better than he did.
After his early years of battling wits with the will of the world, he had fallen into a long, endless solitude that stretched on for hundreds of years.
During that time, he had gone insane countless times—only to recover again because of the sheer passage of time.
Or rather, he hadn't fully recovered.
Instead, he had compartmentalized his memories.
All the mundane, repetitive, and meaningless experiences were buried together, while the significant, thought-provoking ones were kept at the forefront of his mind.
It might sound impossible, but Steven had long since proven that if one lived long enough—and was determined enough—it was entirely achievable.
He called this state of mind Preserving the Self.
It was thanks to this technique that he could maintain a personality and mindset nearly identical to what he had before transmigrating.
As for those endless, mind-numbing centuries of solitude?
To Steven now, they felt like the life story of a stranger—something he knew every detail about, but found difficult to emotionally connect with.
Ironically, this had become his strongest layer of mental defense.
Anyone who dared to invade his mind or spirit would first have to endure hundreds of years of mechanical, repetitive loneliness.
And clearly, Amiya had not been able to endure it.
Steven was willing to believe that she hadn’t meant to pry into his mind. If she had done it intentionally, she wouldn't have chosen such an obvious moment to act.
"S-Sorry..."
Amiya, still struggling against the sharp pain in her head, forced herself upright on the hospital bed. Her voice was weak as she apologized.
What she had glimpsed in Steven’s emotions was an overwhelming silence—an isolation so absolute that it was utterly incompatible with the lively, easygoing person in front of her.
She had only wanted to understand—to grasp what kind of experience could give rise to such a void.
But the mere attempt had left her in this miserable state.
Yet Steven, the one who truly carried those memories, could still smile and joke so lightly?
"A simple apology isn’t enough for something like this, you know."
Steven waved a hand dismissively.
He didn’t say something like "it's fine" or "I'll let it go". Instead, he seized the chance to make his exit.
"But, well… we’ll deal with that after you’ve recovered. You guys clearly have your hands full, so I’ll go check on Gladiia instead."
Seeing Kal'tsit and Warfarin fully preoccupied with Amiya’s condition, Steven figured there was no point in sticking around. Rather than sitting there awkwardly, it was better to spend his time elsewhere.
As for how to settle this matter?
Kal'tsit would give him an answer sooner or later.
"Then… about the Oripathy treatment—"
Warfarin hesitated.
This whole situation had been shaping up to be a promising deal—until this unexpected accident threw everything off course.
Who could’ve seen this coming?
Her only real concern now was whether Steven would develop some emotions over this incident and abandon the agreement they had just made.
"That’s a separate matter," Steven said with a smile. "I won’t go back on my word. Besides, you all needed time to decide who you’d send in as my test subject anyway. Now, isn’t this just the perfect opportunity?"
With that, he followed the direction Gavial had taken Gladiia earlier and walked off.
Stretching lazily as he stepped out of the medical ward, Steven quickly located Gladiia’s room on his minimap. He knocked lightly, and after getting permission from inside, he pushed the door open and entered.
The moment he stepped in, his eyes fell on a white-haired girl lying on the hospital bed, looking just like a sleeping beauty.
But something felt… off.
It had only been a few dozen minutes since he last saw her, yet why did his daughter seem shorter now?
Scratching his head, he walked over to the sleeping girl’s side.
Gavial, busy with her work, didn’t even acknowledge him, allowing him to move around the room freely.
Not that there was anything to hide.
But when Steven finally got a good look at the sleepy-eyed girl Gavial was currently examining, he suddenly felt like his whole worldview had just taken a hit.
What the hell? His daughter had… multiplied?!
If the girl lying on the bed was Gladiia, then who the hell was this one?
Fortunately, Steven had his Entity Information Display Mod to rely on. After glancing at the still-sleeping girl’s status, he saw the title floating above her head: [Abyssal Hunter: Specter].
Ah… So that’s what Kal'tsit meant by Gladiia’s companion.
No wonder he had felt something was strange about Gladiia’s height earlier.
So it turned out this was her comrade all along. Judging from the title alone, they were indeed from the same group.
Not only that, but their shared snow-white hair further confirmed their kinship.
‘So this is the other Abyssal Hunter Kal'tsit mentioned, huh? Gotta say, she’s pretty.’
Steven stroked his chin as he examined the girl on the hospital bed.
Upon closer inspection, she and Gladiia really did have too many similarities. No wonder he had mistaken them for the same person at first glance.
Setting aside their identical hair color, their delicately sculpted faces were another giveaway. They were so flawlessly beautiful that it was hard to believe such creations could exist in this world.
Even their status effects were identical—the (Currently Amnesiac) tag hung at the end of both of their titles.
Did someone smash her brain to bits, too?
If there was one major difference between the two, it was that this girl was slightly smaller overall.
Not just in height but in figure as well.
Her chest, her frame—everything about her was just a miniaturized version of Gladiia.
Not that there was anything wrong with that, but if Steven had to pick a preference… well, he was still more accustomed to the larger variety.
As he silently compared the two in his mind, the room’s door was suddenly pushed open again.
Steven instinctively turned his head—only to lock eyes with yet another girl who had just rushed inside.
Ah, yet another white-haired, red-eyed figure.
Chapter 55: Chapter 55: She’s Truly Too Gentle
Chapter Text
The brief eye contact between them didn’t seem to catch the girl’s attention. While she was somewhat curious as to why an outsider like Steven was here, the newly arrived white-haired girl was far more concerned about something else.
Shifting her gaze away from Steven, she quickly scanned the room before her eyes landed on Gladiia, who was sitting dazedly while Gavial conducted her examination.
“Second Company Captain!”
With clear joy in her voice, the white-haired girl rushed straight to Gladiia’s side, calling out to her excitedly.
However, to her surprise, the usually composed and calculating Abyssal Hunter Second Company Captain—who was always calm and in control—only tilted her head in response.
Pressing a finger to her lips, she made an unexpectedly cute and confused expression, something the girl had never imagined she would ever see.
—Had she mistaken her for someone else?
What exactly had happened to turn the captain Gladiia she knew into this?
“It’s me, Skadi, from the Third Company! We’ve fought together before! Even Specter is here—don’t tell me you don’t recognize your own teammates?”
Pointing at herself, the girl—who had just introduced herself as Skadi—refused to give up.
She reached out to support the still-sleeping white-haired girl in front of Steven and, with a bitter expression, asked the confused Gladiia once more.
“Miss Skadi, I understand that you’re anxious, but please listen to me.”
Before Skadi could push further, Gavial interjected, rubbing her forehead in exasperation.
“The Gladiia you’re speaking of suffered a severe head injury, which has greatly affected her awareness and memory. Right now, her intelligence is roughly that of a six-to-eight-year-old child.”
She sighed before continuing.
“Also, Miss Specter just took her medicine and lay down to rest. If you shake her awake like that again, you’ll be the one responsible for putting her back to sleep.”
Seeing Skadi’s reckless actions, Gavial felt the need to step in and stop her before she made things worse.
From her examination earlier, she was certain that aside from her cognitive and memory issues, Gladiia was completely healthy.
In fact, too healthy.
All the internal injuries that had built up over time from years of battle—injuries she had detected in both Skadi and Specter—were entirely absent from Gladiia.
Or rather… they seemed to have been healed recently.
With that thought in mind, Gavial couldn’t help but glance at Steven, who was currently trying his best to pretend he didn’t exist.
This whole thing… definitely had something to do with him.
After all, he was technically Gladiia’s legal guardian in name.
“How could this happen…?”
Hearing Gavial’s explanation, Skadi visibly deflated. It was as if the hope she had been reaching for had suddenly been shattered before her eyes.
“Was it the same people who hurt Specter…?”
Her expression darkened.
“I will avenge them.”
A murderous glint flashed in her eyes as she tightened her grip on the massive, strangely shaped greatsword strapped to her back.
The sheer rage she emitted was practically tangible, her killing intent thick enough to condense into reality.
If she ever found out who was responsible for Gladiia’s current state…
She would make them pay.
Feeling the overwhelming bloodlust radiating from Skadi, Steven awkwardly inched closer to the wall.
—Yeah.
This whole situation of being confronted by the victim’s family member was really uncomfortable.
Especially because… he was totally at fault here.
After all, he was the reason everything had ended up like this.
But Gavial had no intention of letting him off the hook so easily.
The moment she heard Skadi’s question, she immediately pointed at Steven without hesitation.
"You should ask him about that," Gavial said, pointing at Steven without hesitation. "After all, he’s the one who brought Miss Gladiia to Rhodes Island. In a way, he’s her guardian now."
"Guardian?"
Skadi frowned slightly, shifting her gaze back to Steven.
At the same time, the dazed and groggy Gladiia—who had seemed half-asleep this whole time—suddenly snapped to full alertness the moment she saw Steven.
In a flash, she leaped up from the hospital bed, ran straight to his side, and grabbed onto his sleeve tightly.
"Dad!"
Her loud, clear voice rang out across the room.
Skadi's eyes widened in shock.
"She just called you… Dad?"
Steven was momentarily speechless.
Not knowing how to explain the situation, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Well, if you want, you can call me that too."
The moment the words left his mouth, he immediately regretted them.
Skadi’s already pale complexion turned visibly red, her expression frozen in disbelief.
—Yeah.
This was what happened when you spent too much time joking around—you accidentally said dumb things in serious situations.
Steven let out an awkward chuckle and quickly tried to correct himself.
"Wait, no. What I meant was—there’s a reason for all this! Maybe you should hear me out first?"
Feeling the heavy pressure of Skadi’s growing anger, Steven had no choice but to lower his stance.
If he had been in the right, he wouldn’t have backed down so easily.
But the problem was… he wasn’t.
And as someone who prided himself on being a reasonable person, Steven found it difficult to argue when he was clearly at fault.
To his surprise, despite looking like she was on the verge of erupting into a full-blown volcanic explosion, Skadi actually managed to suppress her emotions and gave him a chance to explain.
"Alright. Go on."
‘This girl’s too gentle.’
—Of course, Steven didn’t dare to tell her the real reason.
If he admitted that he had quite literally collided with Gladiia so hard that he gave her amnesia and ended up accidentally becoming her father figure, it would be a joke that the entirety of Rhodes Island would never let him live down.
Especially that green-haired crocodile girl—she’d spread the story everywhere.
Honestly, if the situation were reversed, Steven would totally do the same.
"So, when I found her, she was being attacked by some creatures that emerged from the ocean."
Steven put on his most sincere expression, making sure his tone was convincing.
"She was already seriously injured by the time I got there. After I treated her wounds… maybe it was instinct or something, but she just started thinking of me as her father."
Technically, this wasn’t a lie.
He had only left out one tiny detail that wasn’t all that important.
So it still counted as telling the truth, right?
"If I remember correctly, those monsters were called 'Seaborn' or something like that."
Casually throwing out the name of the creatures, Steven subtly reinforced the credibility of his story.
As soon as Skadi heard that name, her expression shifted.
Her anger visibly lessened, and her tense posture relaxed slightly.
If Seaborn were involved, then… it actually made sense.
Considering the Second Company Captain strength, there were very few things in this world capable of putting her in such a state.
But Seaborn?
Yeah.
Those monsters had the qualifications.
After all, Captain Gladiia was a Captain of the Abyssal Hunter Second Company—there was no way a mere land-dweller could have beaten her into amnesia.
Chapter 56: Chapter 56: Are All Abyssal Hunters This Clueless?
Chapter Text
"So… you saved her?"
The fire in Skadi’s eyes had yet to fully subside, but it was no longer directed at Steven. Instead, it had shifted toward those Seaborn creatures as she nodded slightly, seeking confirmation from him.
Perhaps she should be thanking him—if not for this man, given Captain Gladiia’s current state, there was no way she would have made it here safely and in such good health.
"Yeah, not only that," Steven sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. "She’s been nothing but trouble for me. A bunch of guys calling themselves the ‘Church of the Deep’ even came knocking because of her. It’s been a real headache, you know?"
He wasn’t lying.
Ever since he’d met Gladiia, he had been dragged into an endless string of troubles.
If not for her, he might still be out there doing some wilderness survival routine instead of dealing with those Seaborn creatures.
At least they wouldn’t have had their eyes on him.
If it weren’t for the fact that he had also gained quite a few WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) thanks to her, Steven might have seriously considered just leaving her here at Rhodes Island.
After all, he had already saved her multiple times—didn’t that make them even?
"Anyway," Steven continued, suddenly pausing as if something had just come to mind.
“Judging from your tone, you must be her companion, right? When are you going to settle the bill for me taking care of her?”
"Huh?"
Skadi blinked, clearly caught off guard.
She had been seriously listening to his story, even feeling a bit grateful, only for Steven to suddenly hit her with… this?
"I took care of her for days," Steven explained matter-of-factly. "She ate my food, used my resources, and I was the one who healed her serious injuries. She’s obviously got no money right now, so as her companion, you should be the one paying for her expenses."
He sounded so serious, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
Steven wasn’t the type to do things for free—at least, not in a world where no one had given him a reason to do so yet.
"Let’s do the math." He started counting on his fingers. "They say life is priceless, but I’m a practical guy, so I’ll be generous. We’ll call it… 100,000 per rescue, yeah? I pulled her out of the ocean once, and then I saved her again from those Church of the Deep people—that’s already 200,000 right there."
He nodded to himself, satisfied with his own calculations.
"Then there’s the cost of treating her injuries. Now, that was expensive. Equivalent exchange and all, it should be at least a million, but since I’m such a kind person and hate seeing people die in front of me, I’ll give you a discount. Throw in all the other miscellaneous stuff, and I’ll settle for 700,000 total."
Steven patted Gladiia on the shoulder and turned back to Skadi with a bright, innocent smile.
"Everything I just said is 100% true. If you don’t believe me, you can ask her yourself. I’m not trying to scam you or anything."
Just in case Skadi did try to weasel out of it, Steven made sure to grab Gladiia as his witness.
The young woman, looking adorably confused—like a bunny staring at headlights—tilted her head before obediently nodding in confirmation.
Then, her gaze settled on Skadi.
For some reason… this person looked really familiar.
Had they met before?
"B-But… I don’t have that much money."
Steven’s entire speech had left Skadi utterly stunned.
She had listened to his explanation, processed every absurd sentence, and even confirmed the truth of his words with Gladiia.
Now, staring blankly at him, she felt her vision darken.
Skadi.EXE has stopped working.
Where was she supposed to find that much money to pay him?
Even all the bounty money she had earned as a mercenary barely covered her daily expenses and Specter’s treatment.
But this man had casually thrown out a bill of 700,000. Even if she sold herself, it wouldn’t be enough.
After all, in Terra, everything had value—except for manpower and slaves.
Those were dirt cheap.
Steven grinned as he watched what might be the only normal Abyssal Hunter on Rhods Island teeter on the edge of a breakdown.
She was actually considering paying him?
Her face was cold and distant, but she seemed… almost too honest and straightforward.
Were all Abyssal Hunters like this?
Meanwhile, Gavial, who had been watching the scene unfold, finally couldn’t stand it anymore.
It was one thing for Steven to extort her, but did he have to scam everyone he met? Was he obsessed with money or something?
The worst part was—she could tell that Steven didn’t even need the money. He just seemed to enjoy watching people struggle to come up with cash.
What kind of messed-up hobby was that?
"Miss Skadi, don’t worry," Gavial finally spoke up, cutting in to rescue Skadi. "Even if what he says is true, you don’t have to pay. I’m sure Dr. Kal’tsit and Amiya wouldn’t just sit back and ignore this situation."
She shot Steven a glare.
This guy did all sorts of good deeds, but when it came to moments like these, he acted like a total jerk.
Well… maybe not a jerk, but definitely not a good person either.
“Well, someone has to take responsibility, right?” Steven shrugged, his previous tension completely gone now that he wasn’t at risk of being accused by an angry ‘family member.’
No fun? Then he’d make his own fun.
This was a reasonable request for payment. No one had the right to complain.
"Dad, are you selling me off?"
Just as Steven was about to tease the overly honest Abyssal Hunter a little more, a soft, trembling voice interrupted him.
Gladiia, who had been quietly standing beside him the whole time, finally spoke.
Her expression—eyes filled with tears, lips quivering, looking as if she were a helpless little kitten about to be abandoned—completely shattered Steven’s playful mood in an instant.
Oh, right.
She had only regressed mentally to childhood, not become an idiot.
She had heard everything.
"Uh…" Steven coughed awkwardly, quickly shifting gears. "Actually, I was just helping you find your teammate. And this money? It’s just to buy you more food. Be good now, lie back down—I’ll start your treatment soon."
Teasing a beautiful girl was fun, but teasing a helpless innocent child? That was crossing the line.
With his mood thoroughly dampened, Steven turned his attention away from Skadi—who was still in shock over the supposed ‘debt’—and looked toward the green-haired crocodile doctor standing nearby.
"So, after all that examination, what’s the diagnosis? Can her amnesia be cured? If not…"
Reaching somewhere—no one knew exactly where—Steven suddenly pulled out a massive, half-human-sized metal drum filled with a creamy, milk-scented liquid.
He rubbed his forehead and muttered, "Then I guess it’s my turn to step in. I refuse to be a single dad any longer. If we don’t fix this, she’s gonna have me wrapped around her little finger forever."
Chapter 57: Chapter 57: How Long Has She Been Like This?
Chapter Text
"Where the hell did you pull that giant bucket from?"
Almost simultaneously, everyone asked the same question.
No matter how you looked at it, Steven just reaching behind himself and pulling out something that clearly shouldn’t be possible to carry was downright terrifying.
"Let’s not get caught up in trivial details like that." Steven waved a hand dismissively. "Just think of it as my special Originium Art. Anyway, here—be a good girl, drink your medicine."
Calling over Gladiia—who still looked a little wronged after his earlier words—Steven gestured toward the milk bucket in front of him.
It had felt like nothing more than a regular cup when he was holding it, but now that he had put it down, it was this massive?
Well, now that he thought about it… it made sense.
In Minecraft, a single bucket could hold an entire block of water—roughly a cubic meter, nearly a full metric ton.
Scaling that to real life… yeah, this size seemed about right.
Gladiia, on the other hand, didn’t find Steven’s actions strange at all.
She had already seen him do things that defied common sense.
To her, this was just another one of her all-powerful father’s special abilities.
But when she got closer and saw the huge bucket of milk, even in her current childlike state of mind, she couldn’t help but feel a little… speechless.
Was this really for drinking? It looked more like something she was supposed to bathe in.
A metal bucket nearly the size of a bathtub, filled to the brim with a milky white, sweet-smelling liquid.
The scent wasn’t unpleasant, and she trusted that her father wouldn’t harm her.
But this was still a bit too much, wasn’t it?
"Yeah, okay, I know this might be… just a little bit excessive," Steven admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "But trust me, this stuff is really good for you. You’re still growing, so you should drink as much as possible."
He was starting to struggle to keep a straight face himself.
Yeah… this was definitely more than he had expected.
"Wait, hold up—what exactly are you trying to do to the patient?!"
At that moment, Gavial finally snapped out of her earlier shock.
There was no way she was buying Steven’s "Originium Art" excuse.
This was clearly just an ordinary bucket of milk. She knew that smell anywhere.
She was seriously starting to suspect that Steven was some kind of primitive native from a long-lost village in the middle of nowhere.
What kind of ridiculously outdated folk remedy was this?
Forget whether or not it would cure Gladiia’s memory loss—drinking that much milk in one go would definitely kill her first.
"Yeah, what exactly are you trying to do to my comrade?" Skadi had also snapped back to reality after Gavial’s outburst.
She stepped in to stop Steven, looking at him with a deadpan expression. "I know you helped us, and we’re grateful for that. But this is just… too weird."
She had no idea what was inside that bucket. But just the sheer size of it was already wrong.
"Man, why don’t you guys ever trust me?" Steven sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "There’s seriously nothing bad about drinking this. If you’re that suspicious, why not just try some for yourselves? I guarantee it’s completely safe—no toxins, no side effects, no nothing."
Despite his exasperation, he wasn’t about to back down.
Reaching into his inventory, Steven pulled out a bowl, scooped up a portion of milk from the bucket, and handed it to Gladiia.
Although Steven had no idea what effect drinking just a single bowl of milk would have—compared to chugging the whole bucket—he figured it was worth a shot.
A full bucket of milk might seem intimidating, but a single bowl? Much less so.
Gladiia, who had no defenses against Steven to begin with, naturally took the bowl from his hands and downed the milky-white liquid in one go.
Then, under Steven’s expectant gaze, Gladiia licked her lips and let out a soft, adorable milk-scented burp.
—And that was it.
There was no sudden awakening, no dramatic transformation, no burst of regained memories followed by an immediate attack on Steven.
She simply looked like someone who had just finished a bowl of milk and was still savoring the taste.
It was obvious now—her amnesia wasn’t a buff that could be dispelled; it was more like the brain’s own self-defense mechanism.
Still thinking that maybe the dosage was too low, Steven scooped up another bowl and handed it to her, his gaze fixed on her eyes with renewed anticipation.
Yet, what greeted him was still the same innocent, childlike stare. There was no trace of the sharp, blade-like coldness in her gaze that he had seen the first time they met.
“It failed.”
“Well, duh! As if that was ever gonna work!” Gavial, who had failed to stop him earlier, couldn’t help but retort.
She had also been watching Gladiia closely for any reaction, but now she was just questioning why she had even expected anything to happen in the first place.
If milk could cure illnesses, what was the point of medical operators like her?
Dipping a finger into the white liquid at the edge of the bucket, Gavial tasted it cautiously.
Yep. It was just plain, ordinary milk—still slightly warm, as if freshly milked.
Where the hell had Steven even gotten something like this?
Just as Steven was about to sigh in disappointment while listening to Gavial’s complaints, something completely unexpected happened.
A dark blur suddenly shot past him and dove straight into the milk bucket.
Both Steven and Gavial froze on the spot.
Even Skadi, who had been moving closer to Gladiia to check on her, hadn’t anticipated that the other Abyssal Hunter, who was supposed to be resting quietly on the bed, would suddenly spring to life and dunk herself into the bucket—gorging on the milk like a starving beast.
And not just that—she was letting out an unsettling, almost ecstatic laughter, causing even Steven to furrow his brows in concern.
“How long… has she been like this?” Steven asked Gavial, his expression darkening.
Maybe his new “adopted daughter” wasn’t so bad after all—at least she wasn’t waking up and instantly going berserk.
“Forget complaining! Stop her! Something’s really wrong with her!”
At first, Gavial had assumed Specter was just having one of her usual episodes. But the more she listened, the more she realized—hidden beneath the gulping and laughter—there was something else.
A painful, wretched cry.
A realization hit her like a lightning bolt—something was seriously wrong.
“Skadi! Get her away from the bucket! Now!”
The moment the words left Gavial’s mouth, the crazed girl suddenly clamped her hands around the iron bucket, crushing it inward.
The milk inside was squeezed out in a violent burst, spraying everywhere like a popped water balloon.
And when her face finally emerged, everyone could see—her delicate features were now twisted in agony.
“It hurts! Why does my spine hurt so much?!”
Chapter 58: Chapter 58: Hold On a Moment, Friend
Chapter Text
Hearing her companion cry out in such intense pain, Skadi’s expression instantly turned ice-cold.
She didn’t have time to question what exactly Steven had put in that bucket—all that mattered now was calming the rampaging girl down.
Specter was never this out of control. Even when trapped in her nightmares, she rarely exhibited such aggression.
But that voice—so full of agony—was something Skadi had never heard from her before.
One thing was clear: she had to be stopped.
If Specter were allowed to unleash her full strength, all of Rhodes Island might be in danger.
Like an arrow loosed from a bow, Skadi shot toward the frenzied girl, trying to reach her before things escalated further.
But before she could even steady herself to offer words of comfort, an immense force struck her, sending her flying backward.
Glowing, strange wounds began appearing all over Specter’s body, from which a brilliant orange-yellow energy burst forth in violent surges.
Skadi had never seen anything like this before. She had no idea how to stop it.
Meanwhile, Gavial’s jaw nearly hit the floor in shock.
That orange-yellow glow—there was no mistaking it. That was the same energy released by Oripathy-infected patients when they died.
But Specter’s spinal column had always contained unstable Originium condensate—so why was it suddenly erupting like this?
There was no time to figure it out. Acting on instinct, Gavial grabbed Steven’s wrist, trying to drag this bizarre guy away to a safer location.
She was already an Infected, so exposure to the energy wouldn’t make things worse for her.
Skadi, being an Abyssal Hunter, also had some level of resistance to this stuff
Steven? He showed no signs of infection. If he stayed any longer, he’d be at serious risk.
But, as always, Gavial couldn’t move him an inch.
He stood there, as immovable as a boulder.
"Move! This place is dangerous! You need to explain what the hell was in that bucket!"
She shouted at him. Sure, Specter’s rampage was definitely related to him, but she also realized he wasn’t exactly at fault—who could have predicted that her first instinct upon waking up would be to chug whatever was in front of her?
Still, the strange pain now radiating from the Originium crystals on her own body made her suspicious.
What exactly was in that bucket?
"It was just a bucket of milk." Steven replied matter-of-factly. "She decided to chow down on my stuff without asking. Honestly, the fact that I didn’t even get mad is already pretty generous of me."
He still stood there stubbornly, his gaze fixed on the girl whose entire body was now overflowing with raw Originium energy.
Truthfully, he could have stopped her.
But he didn’t.
Because, in that brief moment, curiosity had gotten the better of him.
He had wanted to see what would happen if someone else drank the milk.
And now, well… it looked like the reaction was a bit more dramatic than he had anticipated.
Turns out, milk didn’t do much for amnesia. But for other conditions? Yeah, it definitely had an effect.
For a second there, he had worried that the milk was completely useless.
With his mind now at ease, Steven was fully prepared to enjoy the show.
He was just about to pull up a chair, grab some beer, and watch these beautiful women duke it out—there was no way he was leaving just because Gavial told him to.
So, even as Gavial shot him a glare full of frustration before running off to get reinforcements, Steven still made no effort to move.
Meanwhile, Skadi, having just been blasted away by Specter’s energy, was already charging back toward her.
This time, she was done talking—she reached out, ready to pin Specter to the ground.
But Specter, already driven to madness by the searing pain in her body, wasn’t about to let that happen.
Like a wild beast, she lunged—tackling Skadi to the floor.
The fight between Skadi and Specter was nothing but a chaotic brawl, void of any refined technique. Yet, the sheer force of their struggle, combined with the Originium energy surging from Specter’s wounds, made the small infirmary feel as though it had been struck by an earthquake.
As Steven debated whether to bet on Specter or Skadi emerging victorious, he noticed that Gladiia—seated beside him—suddenly had a sorrowful expression on her face. Then, for some reason, she stood up.
"What's wrong?"
Steven shot her a puzzled look.
If there was one thing he disliked, it was seeing someone cry—especially when that someone was a beautiful girl.
"Dad, I don’t know... I just don’t want to see them fighting or getting hurt. It... feels really uncomfortable."
Her delicate face was filled with sorrow as she pointed at her chest with a slender finger.
She didn’t know what this emotion was called, but her consciousness was transmitting a sensation so unbearable that she could hardly stand it.
"Can I stop them?"
Gladiia asked pitifully, her crimson eyes filled with even deeper distress.
"And what exactly would you do? Get beaten up?"
Steven rolled his eyes, his amusement fading.
Damn it. He should never have picked up this so-called daughter. Why did he have to be so soft-hearted?
What a waste—two gorgeous girls locked in a fierce battle, and he barely got to enjoy the show before it had to end.
With a sigh, Steven stood up.
He had no choice—until this adopted daughter of his was fully cured, he owed her.
This debt of turning her into a fool wasn’t so easily repaid.
"Watch your old man work his magic."
Saying something that sounded a little strange even to himself, Steven suddenly vanished, leaving behind only a fleeting afterimage.
In the blink of an eye, he reappeared between the two combatants, right in the middle of their clash.
Reaching out, he effortlessly grabbed both of their arms. With just a slight application of force, he separated the two girls who, mere moments ago, had been tearing into each other like rampaging dragons.
"Ladies, take a breath. Let’s talk this out, shall we?"
He grinned, completely ignoring their struggles.
Then, after a brief pause, he realized—he had nothing to say.
"Actually... I don’t have much to add. How about you both just take a break?"
He had spent a few moments trying to come up with something meaningful, but nothing appropriate came to mind.
Skadi was completely dumbfounded.
This boy—who had just casually interfered in a battle between Abyssal Hunters—had stopped her without breaking a sweat.
That realization alone was enough to make her freeze.
But Specter, still writhing in agony, was far from being so easily calmed.
When she found that she couldn’t break free from Steven’s grip, her instincts took over.
In a feral, mindless act, she opened her mouth and bit down on Steven’s hand.
"Oi! What’s wrong with you? First, you steal my milk, and now you wanna eat me too? Where’s the justice in this?!"
Steven twitched in annoyance. With Skadi finally settled, he had a free hand, and he wasn’t about to waste it.
He had no intention of holding back for the sake of some misplaced chivalry—so, with a swift motion, he delivered a firm chop to the back of Specter’s neck.
At first glance, it didn’t seem like a particularly powerful strike. His movements were light, almost casual.
But despite this, Skadi felt a chill run down her spine.
Her battle instincts screamed at her—if that strike had been aimed at her, she wouldn’t have been able to block it.
And if she couldn’t, then neither could a berserk Specter.
Steven’s hand landed on Specter’s nape like a feather—yet the moment it touched her, the rampaging girl instantly collapsed into an unconscious heap.
"I know you're worried about her, but don't stress. I held back. She’s got a sturdy build—worst case, she’ll have a stiff neck for a few days."
Steven casually flexed his fingers, as if he had just swatted a fly.
Meanwhile, Skadi, still sitting on the ground, looked up at him in shock.
Steven turned his gaze toward her, his expression turning deadpan.
"Also, your friend just cost me a bucket of milk. That’s going on your tab. Let’s say… one or two million LMD? Sounds fair, right?"
Chapter 59: Chapter 59: Do I Need Treatment?
Chapter Text
By the time Gavial arrived at the scene with Kal'tsit and Warfarin—both of whom had been alerted by the commotion—the battle had already long since ended.
It had started abruptly and ended even more so.
What greeted their eyes was a scene of aftermath: Skadi sat slumped on the ground, Specter lay unconscious, and the only two still standing were Steven and his so-called adopted daughter, who was staring at him with eyes full of admiration.
"Could you help me explain exactly what just happened, Mr. Steve?"
Kal'tsit turned to Steven, a trace of doubt in her voice as she prepared to question him about the incident.
However, in the very next second, something about him made her pupils contract slightly.
The room was still filled with residual Originium energy, but the aura emanating from Steven now was unmistakably one that only an Infected would possess.
This mysterious young man who had claimed to have a way to cure Oripathy—had he somehow messed up and gotten himself infected?
Compared to Kal'tsit, who had only just noticed the anomaly, Warfarin—being a vampire—picked up on it even earlier.
Her expression turned serious as she stepped closer to Steven, offering a concerned warning.
"I think you need treatment. It’s still in the early stages, so if we control it now, it won’t cause you any serious harm."
Warfarin held a certain degree of goodwill toward Steven. After all, it wasn’t every day she found someone she could converse with so effortlessly.
Seeing him infected with Oripathy? It made her feel a little uneasy.
"Hah? What do you mean? I need treatment?"
Steven had been just about to demand compensation from Kal'tsit, but the expressions on both her and Warfarin’s faces—expressions one would give to a terminally ill patient—completely threw him off.
What was with this atmosphere? Why were they looking at him like he was on his deathbed?
Glancing at the upper right corner of his status bar, Steven finally noticed a newly added debuff.
[Oripathy: Early Stage] (Originium is currently eroding your body.)
"Eh?"
It was then that Steven remembered—sure, he had looked pretty cool breaking up the fight between the two Abyssal Hunters, but in doing so, he had also been exposed directly to the Originium energy leaking from Specter’s wounds.
So, Warfarin was right. This stuff was, in fact, infectious.
However, now that he understood what was going on, Steven wasn’t worried at all. Instead, he simply gave Warfarin a reassuring smile.
"Oh, that’s all? I thought it was something serious. No problem—I just need to eat something, and I’ll be fine."
When it came to Oripathy affecting the native inhabitants of this world, Steven wasn’t yet confident in claiming he could cure it completely.
But when it came to himself?
This was way too easy to deal with.
Reaching into his inventory, Steven pulled out yet another bucket of milk.
Holding it like a casual drink, he began chugging it down right in front of everyone.
Gavial twitched her nose—this scent, it was unmistakable.
She was sure it was the exact same liquid from the previous bucket.
The so-called "milk" Steven had been talking about.
And then, after finishing the entire bucket in one go and letting out a satisfied burp, something happened that left the three medical Operators completely stunned.
Just moments ago, Steven had been radiating the unmistakable aura of an Infected.
But now?
It was as if someone had completely washed him clean—like the infection had never happened at all.
As if the person who had been infected a moment ago had been someone else entirely.
Could this really be happening?
Was Oripathy... truly curable?
Kal'tsit's gaze toward Steven shifted subtly—there was now something indescribable in her eyes.
The very thing she had been pursuing for years was now within arm’s reach, lying right in front of her.
Yet, instead of joy, what surfaced in her heart was something far more complex.
Unlike Kal'tsit, Warfarin was far less reserved in her reaction.
Excitement was written all over her face.
After all, the entire reason she had joined Rhodes Island was to search for a cure for Oripathy.
And now, Steven had just demonstrated it right before her very eyes.
How could she not be thrilled?
"Y-You—how did you do that?! What exactly did you just drink? Do you have more?!"
Warfarin’s cold, slender fingers latched onto Steven’s arm, her face full of eager anticipation.
At that moment, she even forgot about the two Abyssal Hunters still lying on the ground.
All she wanted was to drag Steven onto a hospital bed and dissect him for answers.
Kal'tsit, though silent, was also watching him with expectation in her eyes.
When Steven first claimed that he might be able to cure Oripathy, neither she nor Warfarin had truly believed him.
How could they?
As Warfarin had pointed out, this was someone who hadn’t even known what Originium was until recently—so how could he possibly hold the cure for a disease that had plagued the world for decades?
The only reason they entertained the idea was because they didn’t want to let go of any possible hope.
But now?
Steven’s actions had completely shattered their doubts.
Inviting this mysterious young man to Rhodes Island… had undoubtedly been the right choice.
However, just as the two women were about to demand more answers, Steven frowned slightly and poured a bucket of cold water on their enthusiasm.
"Whoa, whoa, calm down. First of all, yes, I do have more. But let me remind you of one thing—see that Abyssal Hunter over there?"
He gestured toward the unconscious Specter.
"She also drank the same thing, and look what happened. Without my body’s constitution, drinking this stuff recklessly might not give you the results you’re hoping for."
Warfarin and Kal'tsit froze.
Their excitement turned into an uneasy hesitation.
Steven, on the other hand, turned his gaze toward his status bar.
The [Oripathy: Early Stage] debuff had disappeared—confirming his theory.
For him, Oripathy was nothing more than… a bucket of milk.
But more than that, after testing it on himself, he finally understood why Specter had gone berserk.
The principle was simple.
Oripathy worked by fusing Originium into the body’s flesh and cells.
His milk, however, purged all infected parts.
Which, in Specter’s case… meant that the drink had just ripped those parts out of her body.
Calling it painful was an understatement.
From what Kal'tsit had said earlier, Specter’s infection was concentrated around her spinal cord.
So, drinking all that milk at once was practically the same as... having her spine ripped out and reconstructed on the spot.
How could she not go mad from the pain?
Steven doubted anyone could endure something like that.
"H-How could this be…?"
Warfarin's voice wavered in disbelief as she examined Specter’s unconscious body.
The cracks in her skin had stopped leaking Originium energy, but in return, she now looked incredibly weak.
Yet, what shocked Warfarin even more was—
The Originium crystal density in Specter’s blood had… decreased.
Chapter 60: Chapter 60: You Can Try Farming Gold
Chapter Text
Among the medical operators present, the only one capable of directly detecting the Originium concentration in someone’s blood without relying on instruments was Warfarin.
Having spent so much time with Specter, there was no one more familiar with her condition than her.
And now—
The blood Originium density that she had tried countless methods to reduce, without even the slightest success, had visibly decreased.
Was this Steven’s so-called trump card for curing Oripathy?
If Steven removing his own infection could still be explained as a quirk of his unique physiology, then the changes in Specter’s body completely proved that he possessed a method to cure the infected.
However—
After conducting a more detailed examination of Specter’s condition, Warfarin quickly suppressed her initial excitement.
Yes, the Originium crystal density in Specter’s body had decreased.
But at the same time, it had inflicted massive damage to her body.
Had it not been for the inhuman physical resilience of the Abyssal Hunters, anyone else undergoing this treatment might have ended up crippled or dead.
In other words, Steven hadn’t been lying.
If they wanted to use his method to cure Oripathy, it would need further refinement before it became a viable treatment.
At the very least, someone like Amiya—whose infection was at a critical level—would not be able to survive this kind of damage.
"Well? I was right, wasn’t I?"
Seeing Warfarin’s expression shift from excitement to deep contemplation, Steven finally spoke.
"Words can be spoken recklessly, but food shouldn’t be eaten carelessly. It’s not that I’m trying to keep secrets from you—it’s just that even I can’t guarantee the safety of this treatment yet."
As he explained, he reached into his inventory and pulled out another bucket of milk, waving it slightly to confirm that he did, in fact, have more.
Of course, when it came to how to make the treatment safer, Steven had already come up with a rough plan.
The problem was—
One, the people here would likely never agree to it.
And two, it was simply too much of a loss for him personally.
"Would it be possible for us to purchase some from you for—"
"No."
Before Kal'tsit could even finish her request, Steven shut her down immediately.
He already knew what she was going to ask.
And no matter how worthless milk might seem to them, he had zero intention of handing it over for research.
Did they not understand the importance of holding onto core technology?
Sure, with how broken minecraft bullsit was, he was fairly certain that even if he handed the milk over, Rhodes Island wouldn’t be able to replicate it.
But why should he make trouble for himself?
If they couldn’t figure it out, they might start suspecting that he was hiding some secret ingredient.
It was better to not give them anything in the first place.
"I can’t guarantee that you wouldn’t use this for... special research purposes."
Steven was completely open about his reasoning.
"To put it bluntly, the level of trust between us is far from sufficient for that."
His voice was calm, without a hint of hesitation.
"This concerns my privacy and secrets. If you really want to study it, then maybe you can try defeating me."
"Who knows? Maybe if you beat me up hard enough, I might drop some loot."
Steven grinned, looking genuinely excited at the idea of them trying.
Unfortunately, Kal'tsit’s initial fervor gradually faded, and she soon regained her composure.
As expected, older people are always so annoyingly rational.
"Please don't joke about such things."
Her voice was as cold as ever.
"If you're unwilling to provide it for research, then do the terms of our previous agreement still stand?"
She didn’t resort to force as Steven had expected, nor did she attempt to snatch the bucket of milk from his hands.
Instead, Kal’tsit simply confirmed their prior agreement with him.
“That’s not an issue. As long as you’re willing to pay, I’m happy to help with treatment. That’s a separate matter.”
Steven shrugged.
Paying for medical treatment was common sense. He had no reason to refuse, plus, it was a good opportunity to test his theories.
“Alright, then Rhodes Island sincerely thanks you, Mr. Steve, for helping us suppress our rampaging patient. If you have any requests, feel free to state them now.”
Kal’tsit stopped Warfarin, who still had questions, before formally thanking Steven.
Since he wasn’t planning to run off anytime soon, their priority now was to calmly process the overwhelming amount of information they had just received and strategize on how to negotiate with him going forward, rather than risk angering him with ill-timed inquiries.
What remained was figuring out how to earn his trust and how to refine his so-called treatment method.
And, of course, ensuring that news about him remained absolutely confidential—especially from Rhine Lab.
If that group caught wind of this, there was no telling what kind of insane experiments they’d try to pull.
“What kind of request could I even have? Didn’t I say it already? Help fix my daughter's brain. If she keeps clinging to me, how am I supposed to travel the world?”
Steven shrugged, pointing at Gladiia.
At the moment, she was the only person he cared about to any degree—but even that was just out of responsibility.
Now that it was clear his milk couldn’t fix brain-related issues, he could only rely on this medical organization to provide him with some pleasant surprises.
“Her body is healthier than most people here,” Gavial finally spoke up.
She had been just as shocked by everything that had happened, but since her expertise wasn’t as deep as Kal’tsit’s or Warfarin’s, she had adjusted fairly quickly.
“And her memory loss isn’t even a disease. It’s more like a self-defense mechanism of her brain. There’s no actual ‘treatment’ for it.”
“Maybe if people talk to her about her past, she might regain her memories.”
Steven sighed.
“So you’re saying she just needs rest? And to have people chat with her?”
This conclusion was something he had already suspected.
But hearing it confirmed by actual professionals still left him a little disappointed.
Looked like he wouldn’t be able to shake off this extra baggage anytime soon.
Gavial nodded.
“Alright, I guess that’s the only option. I’ll need to stay here for a while. Kal’tsit, I assume you won’t mind?”
Though he already knew the answer, Steven still asked, sounding a little exasperated.
Without waiting for a response, he quickly walked over to the Abyssal Hunter girl who was supporting the unconscious Specter.
“Miss ‘Owes-Me-A-Ton-Of-Money,’ I’ll be leaving my ‘daughter’ in your hands.”
“Helping her regain her memories is something you wanted to do too, isn’t it?”
Chapter 61: Chapter 61: Attending the Old Folks’ Gathering or Not?
Chapter Text
After leaving Gladiia—who was just as curious about Skadi—behind in the infirmary, Steven followed Kal’tsit’s arrangements and headed to the room assigned to him aboard Rhodes Island.
Ever since stepping foot on this ship, he had been caught up in a whirlwind of all sorts of bizarre events. And while these kinds of amusing experiences were exactly the type of fun he sought after, dealing with them non-stop was beginning to wear him out.
Collapsing onto the bed—which seemed to have been repurposed from a regular operator’s dormitory—Steven stretched lazily with a satisfied sigh.
This was the first time since arriving in this world that he had the chance to properly rest in a real bed.
Back in Iberia, with Gladiia—the biggest baggage of all—dragging him down, he had no choice but to sleep under the open sky, using the ground as his mattress.
A soft bed like this? It had been way too long.
"You really have to suffer a bit before you appreciate how comfortable life used to be, huh?"
After lounging on the bed for a while, Steven decided to take a shower and changed into the fresh set of clothes issued by Rhodes Island.
The outfit was primarily black, with hints of blue as an accent color. It came with a hooded trench coat, and when paired with his already handsome looks, he was practically the definition of a stylish young man.
"Everything’s great—except I don’t have any stubble. Makes me look too young and immature."
Admiring his reflection in the mirror with a slightly self-satisfied gaze, Steven chuckled at his own appearance.
Ever since he crossed into this world, his age and looks had been frozen at the moment he first arrived at Minecraft.
He had to admit—people’s mindsets really do change based on their appearance. No wonder manga and games were filled with "loli grandmas."
But this wasn’t the time to be admiring his own handsomeness. After taking a short rest, Steven was ready to resume his exploration.
There was no way he could ignore such a massive place like Rhodes Island and not go looking around. That would be completely unacceptable in his book.
Clipping the temporary work ID that Kal’tsit had given him to his chest—one that looked similar to the ones the other operators wore—Steven hummed a tune as he stepped out of his room.
His assigned guest room was fine overall—he had no complaints about the size or cleanliness, and it was definitely a comfortable place to stay.
But there was two thing that Steven absolutely could not accept.
There was no underground storage packed with chests.
There was no land for farming.
In Steven’s eyes, such features were essential for a proper living space.
Still, since he wasn’t planning on staying here for long, he could tolerate it. What mattered more was getting out and seeing how the other people aboard this landship lived.
Most importantly—what kind of fun stories and entertaining weirdos he could find.
After all, Steven knew from experience just how many strange and questionable characters could be packed into a place like this.
Forget that crocodile girl Gavial—he had already spotted a humanoid lizard earlier. And there was even a car-shaped robot telling bad jokes.
The more chaotic the place, the more stories and entertainment there were to uncover.
And Steven lived for that kind of stuff.
Sneaking out of his room like a thief, he took a few crouched steps before abruptly realizing—he was a guest here.
There was absolutely no reason for him to skulk around like this.
Maybe he had just spent too much time exploring castle dungeons in various mods—his stealth instincts were kicking in by default.
Shaking off the habit, Steven quickly switched gears—going from "sneaky dungeon explorer" mode to "old man taking a leisurely post-meal stroll" mode.
With his hands in his pockets, he swaggered down the halls of the landship, ready to see what kind of trouble he could stumble into.
It seemed that the area Steven was assigned to was part of the dormitory block. Every door was shut tight, leaving him with nothing worth exploring.
He couldn't just whip out a pickaxe and force his way in, right? If a guest went that far, wouldn’t that be no different from being a straight-up burglar?
Sighing in disappointment, Steven reluctantly put his pickaxe away, ultimately deciding to abandon that rather morally questionable idea.
After wandering around for a bit, he quickly realized that, at least in this part of the ship, there was nothing but rows of dormitory boxes—it felt just like his old college dormitory, except without the kind of students who frequently visited each other's rooms.
Just as Steven was thinking about where else he could go, he suddenly spotted a familiar figure stepping out of a dormitory not too far away.
"Outcast, your Rhodes Island is so boring. Do operators not socialize at all? Doesn’t anyone get sick of this?"
He greeted her first, taking the initiative to strike up a conversation.
Steven had a pretty favorable impression of this badass older lady—who looked old enough to be his grandmother on the outside.
At the very least, she was easy to talk to. Not to mention, her speech and demeanor had that carefree charm.
"Rhodes Island is just like this," Outcast replied casually. "Most operators have their own duties, and their rare moments of free time often don’t line up. Plus, instead of visiting others, most would rather just lie down on their own beds."
Outcast had been informed by Kal’tsit to pay special attention to this guest. After dropping Steven off at the infirmary earlier, she had been busy with other matters, so she had no idea that his status had risen yet another level since then.
But she already had a good impression of Steven’s easygoing personality, so she didn’t mind answering his questions.
"That just makes it even more boring, doesn’t it?"
Steven scratched his head, genuinely puzzled.
"Well... it's just how things are," Outcast sighed. "Most of Rhodes Island’s operators are infected. Under the constant pressure of Oripathy, even if they want to relax, it’s not that simple. Not everyone has the luxury of maintaining a lighthearted attitude."
Walking side by side with Steven, Outcast spoke with the kind of wisdom that came with age. She had seen too much over the years—so much that, when she spoke of such things now, there was no longer sorrow in her tone—just a quiet sense of resignation.
After all, in a world where even survival itself could be a struggle, who had the luxury to take it easy?
"Yeah, makes sense," Steven nodded in understanding. "Doctors and hospital staff messing around like they’re at a party would feel a little inappropriate, huh?"
Outcast’s explanation was reasonable—after all, not everyone could be as unconcerned about Oripathy as he was.
In the end, people feared death.
"But still, it’s kinda dull," Steven grinned. "Say, Outcast, do you know any fun places around here? Kal’tsit said I could ask you if I had any questions."
"Hmm."
Hearing his question, Outcast paused for a brief moment of thought before finally making a decision.
"How about coming with me to an old folks’ gathering? As long as you don’t mind that everyone there is… well, a bunch of old-timers."
Since Kal’tsit had instructed her that Steven could be trusted with almost anything—except for extremely classified secrets—Outcast figured it would be fine to invite him.
With his personality, he’d probably get along well with her old friends.
Chapter 62: Chapter 62: All Familiar Faces
Chapter Text
Steven certainly had no reason to refuse this kind of gathering. In fact, if judged by age, he should have already been categorized as a senior.
As long as there was someone to talk to and stories to hear, and he didn't have to be alone, Steven was always open to it.
So, after following Outcast for a while, they stopped in front of a room that was visibly larger than the other dormitories.
"Wait, are you sure you want to hold the party in a place like this? Isn't it a bit weird?"
Steven glanced up at the sign above the door, which read Trade Station.
No matter how he looked at it, this didn't seem like a spot for a gathering.
"Hey, you're just not being flexible enough. Since Rhodes Island is constantly on the move, there's no way to conduct real trade. We're just making the most of the limited space we have."
Outcast flashed a smile, and Steven immediately gave her a thumbs-up.
He loved talking to people who were adaptable and not overly rigid. This was way more fun than trying to decipher Kal'tsit's cryptic words.
"Besides, we rented this Trade Station ourselves. As long as we're paying, the person in charge is more than happy to let us use it."
With that, Outcast led Steven through the door into the Trade Station.
As soon as they entered, Steven was hit by a strong aroma... the unmistakable scent of alcohol.
Inside, a few cardboard boxes had been set up as makeshift tables and chairs. Sitting on them were several figures in Rhodes Island uniforms, just like Outcast.
Judging by the unknown liquids in their cups, it was pretty clear where the smell of alcohol was coming from.
"Outcast, you’re finally here! It’s your welcome-back party, and it just wasn’t right without the guest of honor!"
A tall, black-haired girl with cat ears noticed their arrival. She brought a glass of liquor over to Outcast and then turned a curious gaze toward Steven.
"And who might this be?"
"A guest invited to Rhodes Island by Miss Kal'tsit. To me... I guess you could say he's a friend I get along with?"
Outcast exchanged a glance with Steven, sounding a bit unsure as she described their relationship.
She genuinely thought he was quite interesting. Whether it was his way of speaking or his mysterious abilities, none of it was off-putting. In fact, it felt more like reconnecting with an old friend around her age.
"Of course, definitely a friend."
Steven chuckled heartily and confirmed it without hesitation.
When it came to making friends, his only criterion was whether he could have a good conversation. Age didn't matter. After all, he wasn't there for a blind date—who cared if someone was a mature lady or a little girl?
"Nice to meet you! I'm Blaze, an elite operator of Rhodes Island. Welcome to Outcast’s homecoming party!"
After receiving Outcast’s confirmation, the cat-eared girl naturally let go of her initial doubts about Steven. She trusted Outcast’s judgment and was more than willing to believe in this young man who had made such a positive first impression.
With a bright smile, Blaze walked over to the makeshift table of cardboard boxes, grabbed a cup emitting the rich aroma of alcohol, and offered it to Steven with a raised eyebrow.
"Care for a drink?"
"It’d be my pleasure."
Steven took the cup without hesitation and downed it in one go.
The burning taste filled his mouth, indicating that this wasn’t some high-end liquor, but it was more than enough to make him happy.
After all, it had been a long time since he'd had a drink, right?
"Good! I like straightforward people like you. You’ll fit right in with us,"
Blaze gave Steven a hearty slap on the shoulder and led him and Outcast back to the group gathered around the cardboard box "table."
"Sorry about that," Outcast whispered to Steven. "She’s just like that—very outgoing. To be honest, we’re all like that in private. We tend to let loose."
Outcast took the chance to quietly explain Blaze’s behavior to Steven, though from the way she kept sipping her drink, she seemed to enjoy this kind of atmosphere herself.
Fortunately, Steven felt the same way.
"It’s fine. Being warm and friendly is a good thing."
Steven had no complaints. In fact, compared to those stiff corporate gatherings where no one knew what to do, this kind of casual get-together felt just right.
"Name’s Steve. Well... just a wanderer, currently working part-time as a doctor. Nice to meet you all,"
Now standing by the cardboard box that served as a table, Steven boldly introduced himself to the group without a hint of shyness.
"Ah, don’t be so formal! If Outcast brought you here, then you’re already one of us. Look, the big guy over there is Ace, an elite heavy defender of Rhodes Island. That guy trying to look cool even while drinking—that’s Scout, a Sarkaz. And those two lovely ladies over there are Touch and Pith, both top-tier caster operators."
Blaze took it upon herself to introduce everyone to Steven, treating him like an old friend rather than an outsider.
The people she introduced also responded with friendly smiles, raising their glasses to him as a casual greeting.
Just as Blaze had said, if Outcast had brought Steven here, that alone was enough to prove he was trustworthy. That was all they needed.
"Where is everyone else? Is it just you guys here, or did a few already drink themselves under the table?"
Now that Steven was blending in well, Outcast also dropped her initial seriousness, enjoying the cheap liquor as she asked Blaze.
"Come on, this little bit of alcohol isn’t enough to knock anyone out."
"The others are either busy with work or out on missions. Otherwise, who’d miss Outcast’s welcome party?"
Blaze waved her hand dismissively as she explained. Meanwhile, she didn't forget to refill Steven’s empty glass.
Although Blaze called it Outcast’s welcome party, aside from the initial "welcome back," everything about this gathering felt more like a casual drinking session for old friends.
"It’s alright. This is just how we are—you’ll get used to it. Also, are you just sipping? Come on, don’t hold back."
Outcast noticed the confusion in Steven’s eyes. After explaining their casual vibe, she joined the rest in encouraging Steven to drink more.
After all, with a newcomer in their midst, who else were they supposed to toast?
Chapter 63: Chapter 63: I'm Handsome
Chapter Text
A great philosopher once said, "There’s nothing a good barbecue can’t fix."
For Steven, though, there’s nothing like sharing a drink to bring people closer.
After several rounds of toasts and exchanges, the once somewhat reserved operators gradually let go of their initial caution towards Steven, the outsider, and became noticeably more enthusiastic.
"Let me tell you something, Steve," Ace, the usually mature and reliable man, now slightly flushed from drinking, hooked an arm around Steven’s shoulder and whispered conspiratorially. "Don’t be fooled by how Outcast looks now. Back in her younger days, she had a ton of admirers. But she was too focused on work, and now that she’s become an auntie, nobody’s chasing after her anymore."
Steven glanced at Outcast, whose expression had subtly darkened.
"Yeah, I can see that," Steven, who showed no signs of getting drunk despite the crowd’s best efforts, could only offer an awkward smile and avoid engaging too much in the conversation.
He valued his life too much to step on that landmine.
"Hey, that’s not fair," Scout, the sunglasses-wearing operator who usually carried an air of mystery, chimed in. He leaned over, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "You know Misery still has feelings for Outcast. How can you say nobody’s interested in her?"
Then, as if sharing a deep understanding, the two middle-aged men clinked their glasses with knowing smiles.
What they seemed to forget, however, was that Outcast wasn’t nearly as drunk as they were. While their voices were lowered, they weren’t exactly whispering either.
"Oh? Funny, I don’t remember anything about that. Why don’t you both enlighten me in detail?"
With an ominous smile, Outcast wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders and dragged them toward a corner, leaving Steven standing there with his drink, dumbfounded.
Before he could consider joining in on the fun, two other elite operators—both of whom appeared to be around Outcast’s age—sidled up to him.
"Ignore them. They get mouthy when they’re drunk. A little punishment will do them good. But hey, Steve, how old are you? Do you like your job? How much do you make per month? Do you have a girlfriend?"
Though slightly tipsy, these two at least seemed to handle their liquor better than the previous duo. However, their questions felt… oddly specific.
Steven hesitated. Their questions felt oddly familiar—like the nosy relatives he used to deal with back in his first world.
"Uh, well, I guess I’m not that young anymore. But I don’t have a girlfriend for now. I suppose you could say I’m single."
As soon as he answered, he couldn’t shake the feeling that these two weren’t looking at him like a proper colleague.
Rather, their expressions were more like… in-laws inspecting a potential son-in-law.
"That’s fine, that’s fine! You’re such a handsome young man, with a great demeanor too. I doubt you’ll have any trouble in that department. Interested in getting a girlfriend?"
A shorter elite operator chimed in, but her question left Steven completely unsure how to respond.
"Um… Not at the moment, I guess?"
He scratched his head awkwardly, suddenly feeling like this gathering of elders wasn’t as enjoyable as he’d imagined.
"My disciple is quite nice! Let me tell you, the operator benefits at Rhodes Island are amazing. Want me to introduce you two?"
Clearly, Steven had underestimated their level of intoxication. Just moments ago, he had thought they were the more reasonable ones—now, all he wanted to do was escape.
This felt just like those New Year gatherings from his first world—where aunties would swarm him, eager to set up blind dates.
"Thanks, but I think you might’ve had too much to drink. Maybe take a break instead?"
Steven’s mouth twitched as he shot up from his seat like a rabbit, swiftly making his escape. Behind him, the two elite operators burst into laughter, thoroughly amused.
He had never expected that, after all the times he had enjoyed teasing others, he would one day become the one being teased.
But he had to admit—it was pretty fun.
As he took small sips from his drink, savoring the moment, he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. Looking over, he realized that the beautiful cat-eared girl named Blaze had appeared beside him at some point. She had an arm draped over his shoulder and was pouring more alcohol into his glass.
"Keep drinking! They’re all down for the count, but you still have me."
The warmth radiating from her body was noticeably higher than that of an average person, but Steven wasn’t fazed by it. Instead, he simply smiled and clinked glasses with her.
"You all are elite operators of Rhodes Island… Why do you trust me this much?"
After a brief hesitation, Steven finally voiced his thoughts in a low tone.
He truly didn’t understand why these seasoned elites, many of whom were well past middle age, were being so friendly toward him.
Blaze chuckled. "Knew you’d ask that."
As if she had predicted this question all along, Blaze downed her drink in one gulp and flashed Steven a dazzling smile.
"First off, like I said, you’re Outcast’s guest. She trusts you, so we trust her judgment."
"Then?"
Blaze gave Steven’s shoulder a firm pat with her pale hand.
"Second, well..." She playfully slapped his shoulder. "You noticed I’m infected as soon as you walked in, didn’t you? But you didn’t hesitate to take the drink I offered, and there wasn’t a trace of disgust in your eyes. That told me you’re someone worth knowing."
"That’s when I knew—you’re someone worth getting to know."
"What I can see, those old-timers can definitely see too. For people like us, these two reasons are enough."
After laying out her reasoning, Blaze locked eyes with Steven, her beautiful blue pupils glimmering.
"The rest? Just intuition. We’re elite operators, after all. What do you think? Good enough for you, Steve?"
Steven’s response was a broad, carefree grin.
"More than enough. But you clearly forgot one important factor."
Blaze tilted her head, eyes flickered with curiosity. "Oh? And what’s that?"
Blaze tilted her head. "Oh? What’s that"I’m handsome," he said with mock seriousness. "People are naturally drawn to good-looking faces. Being good-looking is like having a built-in charisma boost."
With a smug expression, Steven playfully ran a hand through his hair, speaking with absolute confidence.
Blaze burst into laughter, clinking her glass against his again.
‘Coming here with Outcast had definitely been the right choice.’
‘These people… they were such a joy to be around.’
Chapter 64: Chapter 64: Trying to Extort Me?
Chapter Text
After nearly ten whole crates of high-proof, low-quality booze had been drained, Steven was the only one still standing in the entire Trade Station.
There was no helping it—his Minecrafter physiology made it nearly impossible for him to get drunk.
Even without drinking milk to remove the debuff, at most, a bottle of alcohol would just make him feel nauseous for a few seconds before he was completely fine again.
Downing the last bit of liquor in his bottle, Steven scanned the Trade Station, where the elite operators of Rhodes Island lay sprawled across the floor in various states of unconsciousness.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say.
These uncles and aunties had a collective age well into the hundreds, yet they still knew how to party hard.
Truly, an inspiration to the elderly.
"Come on, Steve, let’s keep drinking…"
Blaze, reeking of alcohol, suddenly latched onto him, an empty cup in her hand.
The heat radiating from her body mixed with her faintly sweet scent, creating a strangely unique aroma around her.
"Go drink with Morpheus instead."
Steven gave her a look of disgust as he effortlessly pushed the drunken cat girl away with one hand.
He didn’t mind her scent, but he did mind the possibility of her throwing up on him.
He had already seen what happened to the two middle-aged elite operators across the room, who were now doubled over, violently expelling a mosaic of regret.
This whole crew had been downing booze nonstop without so much as a peanut to soak it up. If they didn’t end up puking, that would be the real miracle.
Just as he finished dealing with the drunken feline, the Trade Station’s main door suddenly swung open.
A girl with black twin-tails strode in, pinching her nose as she took in the scene before her. Her crimson eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Steven—the only conscious soul left.
"I agreed to rent this place to you guys for a party, but I don’t recall saying you could puke all over the place. So, who's paying the cleaning fee?"
Completely at ease, she gave Steven’s shoulder a shove before striking a very familiar pose—slightly leaning forward, extending a delicate, pale palm, her fingers curled ever so slightly…
The universal ‘gimme money’ gesture.
Steven glanced around.
The same Blaze who had been demanding another drink just moments ago was now snoring sweetly, even letting out tiny, adorable purring sounds.
As for the two middle-aged men who had been throwing up their souls earlier? They were now lying on the floor, clinging to each other like two lovers who had braved the storm together.
Honestly, if someone called them a couple at this point, Steven wouldn’t even argue.
Outcast and the two aunties were completely out cold on the couch, looking indistinguishable from actual corpses.
"...Listen, would you believe me if I said I was just an invited guest?"
Steven spread his hands helplessly.
He was always the one shaking people down for money, not the other way around. Being on the receiving end of extortion was a new and baffling experience.
"I believe you. But you’re the only one still conscious."
The black-haired girl, wearing a slightly oversized trench coat, blinked her scarlet eyes at him. Her elf-like pointed ears twitched slightly, but she maintained her firm pay-up stance.
"You must be a new elite operator then? The newbies always go through this once—get used to it. So, will you be paying in Lungmen dollars or an equivalent currency?
"Oh, and by the way, they haven’t paid for the booze either. Wanna cover that too?"
She looked like she definitely wasn’t going to let Steven leave without paying up.
"So, who exactly are you? Why do you just go around demanding money from people?"
Steven scratched his face, a little troubled as he looked at the petite girl who was nearly a full head shorter than him. Her pointed elf ears and crimson eyes instantly reminded him of Warfarin from the infirmary.
Rhodes Island sure had an abundance of cute girls, huh? And they all seemed to have red eyes too—talk about a niche specialty.
"Me? Now that’s the right question!"
The girl puffed up with pride and rattled off a string of self-important titles as if she were reciting a dish menu:
“I am the Rhodes Island ship reliability engineer, SUPERVISOR of Rhodes Island, a brilliant system engineer, one of Kazdel’s top 100 youth innovators, an advocate for open-source software, a recipient of multiple design awards, and an enthusiastic gamer—Closure!”
She seemed worried that Steven might try to weasel out of it, so she quickly added,
“By the way, I’m also the head of this trade station. All the booze you drank was painstakingly procured by me—it’s all my blood, sweat, and tears!”
"Hmm, and what does that have to do with me, a mere bystander?" Steven feigned ignorance before suggesting with a smirk, "How about this—you go ask Kal’tsit about it? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to reimburse me."
The moment Steven mentioned that name, the confident and smug expression on Closure’s face vanished instantly.
As expected.
She’d been acting all high and mighty, but at the end of the day, she was just a textbook merchant—and dealing with merchants was one of Steven’s specialties.
First, he had to completely distance himself from the drunken idiots behind him. Then, he had to introduce a real heavyweight into the conversation.
Considering Kal’tsit’s cold and commanding personality, if she found out her subordinates had pulled something like this, well… things were going to get very interesting.
And sure enough, at the mere mention of Kal’tsit’s name, Closure instantly shrank back like a mouse spotting a cat.
Not just her—Steven even noticed that the supposedly unconscious elite operators behind him all subtly held their breath.
So these bastards weren’t actually knocked out—they just wanted to see him struggle for fun!
"Uh… you and Kal’tsit… are close?" Closure asked hesitantly.
"More or less. Let’s just say I’m a VIP guest of hers," Steven said leisurely. "She personally invited me here, never asked me to do anything, and didn’t mention anything about me having to pay for anything, either."
He put a bit of extra emphasis on the word pay just to mess with her.
Judging by Closure’s reaction, she seemed genuinely terrified of Kal’tsit.
That green-haired, eternally composed woman really did have the aura of an empress ruling from behind the curtains. Not someone to be trifled with.
"D-Don’t just throw her name around like that!" Closure’s voice wavered as she withdrew her outstretched hand. "Kal’tsit—she’s got a really small tolerance for nonsense, you know? If you’re just bluffing, and she actually gets pissed, things are going to get real bad!"
Her shifty eyes and the way she was actively avoiding his gaze told Steven everything he needed to know—she was completely chickening out.
She must have realized that Steven wasn’t lying, which made things even worse for her.
If Kal’tsit found out Closure had rented out the Trade Station for a drunk party and even tried to profit off booze sales, she’d probably have her hide.
"Well, if you’re unsure, why don’t you just go ask her yourself?" Steven suggested, his grin widening. "In fact, you won’t even have to go far—she’s standing right outside."
Glancing at his minimap, Steven noticed the little green cat-head icon that represented Kal’tsit had just arrived at the Trade Station entrance.
His grin widened.
This was about to get real fun.
Chapter 65: Chapter 65: What Does It Have to Do with Me
Chapter Text
Kal'tsit hadn’t actually been looking for Steven. She never expected that when she opened the door to the trading post, she’d find him standing there with Closure.
How did this guy even find his way here? Was he trying to trade for something?
With a puzzled mind, Kal'tsit’s small, cute nose twitched, and then her brow furrowed tightly.
"Closure, did you secretly bring in alcohol again? How many times have I told you, Rhodes Island’s resources are not abundant. We’re far from having enough to let you squander them like this. Instead of buying these things, you should be purchasing more materials and energy."
She called out to the Sarkaz girl, who was trying to sneak away, and gave her a cold reprimand.
"You should be talking to those guys about this..."
Closure originally wanted to drag the other elite operators down with her, but when she pointed towards where the elite operators had been sleeping like the dead, all she saw was a devastated scene.
Those elite operators, who were usually craftier than monkeys, had long disappeared, leaving only Steven standing there with his arms crossed, looking on with a spectator’s expression.
"Talk to who? Mr. Steve? He’s not a Rhodes Island operator, and he probably doesn’t have time to buy this kind of low-quality Ursus alcoholic beverage."
Kal'tsit glanced down at the mess on the floor. She had already more or less figured out what had happened. But since only Steven and Closure were left at the scene, naturally, she could only trouble these two.
To be precise, she could only trouble Closure. As for Steven, she really didn’t know how to deal with him.
Now that she knew he might hold the key to curing Oripathy, she was just short of worshipping him. How could she dare to criticize him?
As long as Steven didn’t commit mass murder, arson, or cross Kal'tsit and the other operators' bottom line, nobody would say a word against whatever he wanted to do on Rhodes Island.
"Exactly, exactly. I’m innocent. But this Miss Closure here said I should cover the cost of the alcohol and clean up the place. I’m just a lonely traveler—where would I find such a fortune?"
Steven added fuel to the fire, delivering another blow to Closure.
Trying to scam him out of money was not that easy.
"Oh, and she also said, ‘Kal'tsit is so petty.’ I have to say, of all the things she said, that one made the most sense to me."
Steven had no intention of hiding his mischief, even expressing wholehearted agreement with the statement.
"—I didn’t, I never said that! What I said was that Kal'tsit, you’re so kind, and you wouldn’t stoop to your subordinates' level, right?"
Closure’s delicate and adorable face, still carrying a bit of baby fat, twisted into an awkward smile as she pitifully tried to explain to Kal'tsit.
"I don’t think I match your imagination quite so well. Or rather, I don’t think I can easily let off a Rhodes Island member who has made such a serious mistake. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Closure?"
Kal'tsit’s face darkened, her tone slipping back into the cryptic style that Steven despised. However, this time, he didn’t find the interpretation difficult at all—instead, he found it incredibly entertaining.
After all, Kal'tsit wasn't targeting him.
"Uh, my bad."
Closure covered her ears and bolted away from Kal'tsit, running even faster than a rabbit, as if she were terrified Kal'tsit might chase her down.
If Kal'tsit were just going to punish her, that would be one thing. But if she was going to dock her wages, Closure would rather take a beating—it’d hurt less.
Luckily, Kal'tsit didn’t seem like she intended to settle the score with her immediately.
Her gloomy expression softened when she looked at Steven.
Knowing he didn’t like seeing her with a cold face, Kal'tsit forced a smile, though it looked so awkward that it only emphasized the incongruity.
"Aren’t you going to chase her down and properly punish her? At the very least, dock a few months' wages and maybe put her in solitary for a while, right?"
Steven couldn’t help but want to laugh at that expression on Kal'tsit’s face. This cold and serious “BBA” (Big Boss Attitude) showing such a clumsy attempt to please someone was such an amusing contrast.
"I will, but right now I'm more curious—how did you get so close with them so quickly? The elite operators of Rhodes Island are generally not very trusting of outsiders."
Kal'tsit calmly pointed out that she was well aware of the elite operators’ occasional private gatherings. She had long been aware of their secret drinking parties. But Steven managing to blend into their little circle was beyond her expectations.
With his strange personality, how did he even make friends with anyone?
"You might not believe it, but it’s probably because I’m too charming. Resisting my charisma is… well, quite difficult." Steven, looking a bit smug, adjusted his hair. He certainly couldn’t say he had no idea how he became so close with them, could he?
"Of course, if you’d like to experience it yourself, I suggest you sit down and have a drink with me. Who knows, maybe our friendship will improve too."
He pulled out a half-empty bottle of booze from a nearby cardboard box. After wiping the bottle's mouth, he took a large swig and then handed the remaining quarter of the bottle to Kal'tsit.
"No need. I’m not good with alcohol."
She rejected the bottle with a frosty expression, unable to stop her brow from furrowing.
"See, that’s why I get along with them better than with you. It’s all your own choice."
Steven shrugged and finished off the cheap, harsh liquor. Then, he lay back on the cardboard box, looking every bit like he was basking in a life of debauched leisure.
"I just think that if you really consider them friends, maybe you should understand what they're fighting for."
"Do you know why they were throwing a welcome party for Outcast? It’s because not every elite operator mission ends perfectly. Sometimes, they can’t wait for old friends to return."
"This is the curse that hangs over this land. As long as Oripathy is not eradicated, as long as there are infected still out there, these operators—who joined Rhodes Island to save the infected—will always be risking their lives."
This time, Kal'tsit wasn’t speaking in riddles. But what she said was even harsher than any cryptic message.
Yet, after listening to it all, Steven just remained slumped on the box, drinking the bitter, low-quality liquor with a look of complete indifference.
"And then what? What does that have to do with me? Did I make them do any of this? Or is Oripathy my fault?"
"If neither of those is true, then what’s the point of telling me all this?"
Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Can't You Be Serious?
Chapter Text
Steven knew exactly what Kal'tsit was trying to convey with her words.
But as he had said himself—What does that have to do with me?
Sure, he had a bit of a soft spot for Outcast and the other elite operators, but that didn’t mean he had to play the role of a savior and rescue the world because of it.
Steven never considered himself that noble.
Besides, Outcast and the others were doing what they chose to do. There was no way he would interfere with their choices.
He respected those who sacrificed themselves for lofty ideals, but that didn’t mean he wanted to become one of them.
Living for others was exhausting, after all.
“I just want… you to understand what Rhodes Island is trying to do,” Kal'tsit said.
“And let me guess, you’re hoping I’ll hand over that medicine for you to research, right?” Steven shrugged, directly stating Kal'tsit’s ultimate goal. No matter how tactfully she phrased things, if he didn’t have that miraculous milk, he doubted she’d be treating him so politely.
“Yes, that’s right. Rhodes Island needs that medicine. The people of this land need that medicine. And I… need that medicine.”
Kal'tsit didn't try to deny it any longer. Her gaze grew firm, and she openly admitted her intentions to Steven.
"If you had been this straightforward earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have been so harsh with you. At least now, you sound much more agreeable."
Steven chuckled lightly, offering a bit of commentary on Kal'tsit’s current approach. If she had been this direct from the start, perhaps they could’ve even been friends.
“So—”
“No deal.”
Steven waved his hand, delivering a brutal conclusion.
"However, since your attitude just now pleased me, I don’t mind telling you: even if I did give you that thing to research, you still wouldn’t get anywhere with it."
"This stuff is my own unique creation. It can’t be replicated, and thinking of spreading it across the entire land to save all those so-called Infected is nothing more than a pipe dream."
This time, Steven wasn’t trying to mislead her. He had no idea how many Infected existed in this world, but it was clearly not a small number.
And based on what Blaze had told him, there was a deeply entrenched conflict between the Infected and the uninfected.
Even if he had a way to cure the Infected, promoting it widely would be nearly impossible.
Unless he could first conquer this world.
But that would be way too much hassle.
Steven had no interest in playing some grand nation-building, world-conquering strategy game. He was a survival game player—a completely different genre.
If anyone wanted to play that kind of game, they’d be better off finding a Paradox Interactive player next door.
Since he couldn’t meet that prerequisite, exposing the existence of his milk would only make him a target. The risk far outweighed any potential gain for him.
"Believe it or not, I’ve told you the truth. Maybe I could perfect a treatment for Oripathy, but clearly, the world you speak of needs a lot more than just that kind of healing."
“Unless I see something worth fighting for, you should think more about how much you can afford to pay just to try treating a single person."
Steven stood up. After laying everything out, he walked past the stunned Kal'tsit, leaving her standing in place.
Kal'tsit stared at Steven's departing figure, lost in thought.
How could she not know about the things Steven mentioned? It was precisely because of this understanding that she so desperately wished for someone to break this deadlock.
“Oh, by the way, about earlier—since that girl blackmailed me, I demand compensation for my mental distress. Should I put it on your tab, or would you prefer to pay in cash? If not, a few Originium shards will do. I can use them to experiment—maybe make some fireworks or something.”
The previously heavy atmosphere was abruptly shattered.
The same Steven who had just left with a deep and serious demeanor suddenly reappeared, but his words instantly squandered all the gravitas he had built up.
“Can’t you be serious for once?” Kal'tsit said, looking at the boy holding out his hand, asking for money. She couldn’t help but sigh with a wry smile.
"Come on, can seriousness fill my belly? Or are you paying me to be serious? If not, why live so exhaustingly? Also, don’t change the subject—do you have the goods or not?"
Steven clapped his hands together, showing no sign of guilt. If he were truly being improper, he would have already used his milk as leverage to make Kal'tsit sit on his lap and hand feed him.
“This is extortion.”
Kal'tsit sighed, no longer in the mood to argue. At least his antics had distracted her from her earlier frustration.
“Hey, you’re slandering me. How is this extortion? I’m just asking directly. So, are you giving me some Originium or not?”
"Fine. Go find Closure, the girl who ran off earlier. Just tell her I sent you, and you can ask for whatever you need."
Though Kal'tsit had no idea what Steven planned to do with the Originium, considering how unpredictable his actions always were, she agreed.
Maybe going along with his whims would spare her some headaches—just like his sudden cure for Oripathy before.
"If you had been this straightforward earlier, I wouldn’t have needed to talk so much. Don’t worry, since you’re giving me the stuff, if you need my help treating the Infected later, I’ll give you a discount."
Steven grinned widely. Now that Kal'tsit was speaking more directly, he found her much more agreeable.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot to ask you something."
Just as Kal'tsit thought Steven was finally leaving, he turned back again.
"Go ahead."
Kal'tsit, already worn out by Steven’s antics, didn’t have the energy for any more riddles.
"Isn't there supposed to be someone called 'The Doctor' on your island? Why haven’t I seen them? I’m pretty interested—could you introduce me?"
Steven suddenly remembered he still needed to progress the main storyline. He had wandered around Rhodes Island but had yet to meet the protagonist of the game.
That didn’t make sense. He recalled that the player-controlled character, known as "The Doctor," should be closely tied to that girl named Amiya. But so far, he had only seen Amiya and not the protagonist.
"...I don’t know how you learned of that person’s existence. But unfortunately, if you want to meet that person, you’ll probably have to dig her out yourself. As it happens, Rhodes Island is passing through Ursus. Should we drop you off there?"
Kal'tsit narrowed her eyes, her gaze toward Steven growing even more curious.
How could this boy, who didn’t even know what Originium was, know about that person's existence?
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Chapter 67: Chapter 67: But I Am
Chapter Text
"Eh? Don’t you have any thoughts about finding that person to take charge?"
Steven scratched his head. Although he was curious why Kal'tsit used the word "dig out" to describe finding someone, he was more concerned about why the person was missing.
"Although I don’t know how you learned that person’s title, at least for now, Rhodes Island hasn’t fallen to the point where we absolutely need her to step in to solve our problems."
Kal'tsit frowned deeply. She sensed a strange feeling in Steven’s tone.
The young man before her seemed to know something about that person, but this understanding felt oddly shallow and deliberate.
He didn’t even realize what it would mean if the "Ghost of Babel" were unleashed.
At the very least, if she were in charge of Rhodes Island, she would probably do whatever it took to capture Steven as a bargaining chip, even if it meant sacrificing far too many people.
"Eh, that’s no fun. So, it’s because I came too early, and the timeline is still before the main plot? Who the hell knows when this storyline will start."
Muttering quietly to himself, just loud enough for only him to hear, Steven didn’t press Kal'tsit further about her reasoning. He wasn’t really that interested in the matter; otherwise, he wouldn’t have only thought of it now.
"Alright then, if you ever want to find that person, maybe you can contact me. I’m quite interested in the Doctor, and who knows, I might help you guys out for free."
He spoke earnestly to Kal'tsit, not bothering to hide his interest in that Doctor. It wasn’t as if he planned to kill the protagonist—why worry about being misunderstood?
"Maybe, but I hope that day never comes."
Kal'tsit shook her head. Seeing that Steven had no more questions, she turned and left.
She was somewhat wary of Steven now. If he asked another strange question, Kal'tsit wasn’t sure if she could handle it smoothly.
Meanwhile, Steven watched her leaving with a bit of disappointment, his mind preoccupied with a critical question.
—It’s one thing for her tail to be missing, but where does she usually hide such a big MON3TR? Could it be, like him, she also has an extra-dimensional inventory?
With this doubt lingering, Steven walked toward his dormitory. Before he knew it, it was nearly midnight, and it was time to get some rest.
Yawning as he headed back, Steven wasn’t at all worried about getting lost thanks to his mini-map. He could find his way home even with his eyes closed.
But clearly, the more you want something to go smoothly, the less likely fate is to let it happen.
Steven hadn’t even made it back to his room when a hand reached out from around a corner and dragged him into a room.
"What’s going on?"
Yawning, Steven, more curious than cautious, didn’t resist. He let the slender hand toss him onto the bed in the room.
However, when he saw under the light who had performed this almost kidnapping-like act, he nodded as if he understood.
"Miss Gavial, even if you fell in love with me at first sight, isn't this a bit too forward? Dragging me into your dorm late at night seems a bit... open, don't you think?"
"Alone in a room with just the two of us—if you suddenly couldn't suppress your primal desires and took away the purity I've cherished for so many years, it wouldn't be good for either of us, right?"
Steven said this with a straight face, yet his posture on the bed was quite the opposite—arms spread wide, wearing an expression as if inviting her to "pick the fruit."
"Ugh! Can you not have such a twisted mind? Do I look like the kind of person you're describing?"
Gavial, clearly frustrated, scratched her green hair. She was struggling to deal with Steven's ridiculously cheeky mouth.
What puzzled her more was how earlier she couldn't move him an inch no matter how hard she tried. Yet just when she was ready to pull him with all her strength, he suddenly felt as light as a sandbag, allowing her to toss him onto the bed.
This was precisely why she hadn't controlled her strength and ended up throwing him so forcefully.
"But I am."
Steven's face remained calm, as if the word "shame" didn’t exist in his dictionary.
"Come on, don’t hold back just because I’m a delicate flower."
He puckered his lips, mimicking a kiss, showing a playful willingness to accept Gavial's "advances," even if she was a bit on the violent side.
"Delicate flower, my ass!"
Unable to suppress the urge to punch him, Gavial swung her small fist straight at Steven's face.
Though Kal'tsit had seriously warned her not to anger Steven, wasn't he clearly asking for it right now?
Unfortunately, her fist was stopped midway by his hand. The overwhelming sense of strength returned, preventing her from moving even an inch closer.
She couldn't even pull her hand away from his grip.
"If you didn't want to, you could have just said so. Why resort to violence? I'm telling you, girls who are too aggressive might find it hard to get married."
In an instant, Steven shifted back to a normal demeanor, as if his previous provocative attitude belonged to a different person. With a serious expression, he released Gavial's fist and sat up on the bed.
"So, what’s up? I’m really sleepy. You’re not seriously hoping I’ll sleep here with you, right?"
"…How do you manage to be so shameless?"
Gavial was struggling to adapt to Steven's sudden shift in tone. She even put aside the question of how he had overpowered her so easily, as if his cheekiness was a greater enigma than his strength.
Compared to his physical prowess, she was now more impressed by Steven's seemingly impenetrable thick skin—perhaps even an Originium chainsaw couldn’t cut through it.
"Hey, didn't you ask me to act normal? So now I’m shameless? You don’t like me passive, and you don’t like me serious—do you want me to take the initiative instead?"
His gaze, almost academic, swept from Gavial's long, slender legs up to her entire body, finally resting on her light golden eyes. Only then did Steven sigh with a tone of helplessness.
What did she want from him? Wasn’t this already cooperating with her? Did she actually expect him to start taking off his clothes and jump straight to it?
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Chapter 68: Chapter 68: My Prices Are Very Fair
Chapter Text
Sensing Steven’s ‘academic’ and ‘gentlemanly’ gaze, Gavial instinctively covered her collar with her hand.
Normally, she didn’t really mind being looked at, but this guy’s stare felt way too invasive!
"Can you be serious for a moment? I just came here to discuss something with you, that’s all. Stop messing around, alright?"
Gavial was actually a bit worried now. This freakishly strong boy in front of her… if he really decided to make a move, she doubted even ten of herself would be enough to stop him.
What kind of monster disguised as a human was he, exactly? How could someone who didn’t even look that muscular possess such insane strength? This completely defied common sense!
"Then say something already! You can’t blame me for misunderstanding when you just barged in and pushed me onto the bed!"
Steven shrugged, his gaze returning to normal. Seeing her act all flustered and cautious meant that she was already scared off, which meant his little teasing mission was a success. Naturally, he had no reason to keep messing with her.
As for the misunderstanding? That wasn’t his fault at all!
"Ahem— Well, who told you to sometimes be ridiculously strong and other times as flimsy as a bean sprout? You just fell over with a light push!"
Gavial awkwardly scratched her cheek with a finger but quickly shook off the embarrassment and adjusted her expression.
"Anyway, let’s not talk about these pointless things. I actually came here to ask for your help with something."
She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. For the first time, Steven saw a trace of genuine request on this usually bold and confident girl’s face.
"Go ahead, say it. But I have a condition—don’t even mention anything about that milk. I’m not giving it to you. Kal’tsit already gave up on trying, so even though I think we get along pretty well, you can forget about it."
Sitting on the bed, which still faintly carried Gavial’s scent, Steven leaned his head on one hand and calmly stated his non-negotiable condition.
He had no desire to explain himself all over again. No was no.
"Uh… I can understand why you’d think that," Gavial sighed. "But don’t worry, what I need your help with isn’t about that."
She hadn’t expected even Kal’tsit to go and try talking to him about it, but it wasn’t surprising. Regardless, she had no intention of relying on Steven for that in the first place.
If she put herself in his shoes, she wouldn’t have handed over something so valuable, either.
"Then what do you want?"
Steven frowned. Besides that stuff, what else did he even have that could attract her interest?
He had already ruled out his undeniably handsome physique, so… was this some love-at-first-sight situation where she wanted his heart?
Without saying a word, Gavial opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out a small green frog-shaped wallet. She unzipped it, reached inside, and took out a thick stack of Lungmen dollars.
Even without counting, Steven could estimate at least 50,000 to 60,000. That was no small amount.
But the more generous she acted, the more confused he felt.
Giving someone money for no reason? What was this, some kind of test to see if he could resist corruption?
"This is the savings I’ve built up over my years working at Rhodes Island," Gavial said, handing him the stack of cash. "According to what you said before—if I want your help, I have to offer compensation first, right?"
Even though she seemed a bit pained to part with this much money all at once, her resolve never wavered. She was determined to hand it over.
Unfortunately, Steven didn’t accept the money.
That kind of cash couldn’t be taken lightly. What if she was trying to hire him for something inappropriate?
"Tell me first. I’ll decide the price based on the situation," Steven said, calmly watching the green-haired girl in front of him. "I’m a fair guy—one penny gets you one penny’s worth. I won’t overcharge you, but don’t expect any big discounts either."
Now that money was involved, he had to take this a little more seriously.
Gavial hesitated before finally speaking, albeit in a somewhat awkward manner.
"It’s nothing too complicated. It’s just that… didn’t you say you needed some Infected from Rhodes Island to help test your medicine? Well, I can do it. I may be a doctor, but I’m also an Infected. Plus, I can use my medical knowledge to assist you."
"So all you need to do is talk to Kal’tsit and assign the test subject slot to me."
It was obvious that asking for favors wasn’t Gavial’s strong suit. Even so, she managed to get her request out, albeit in a rather hesitant and choppy manner.
But instead of simply offering to assist in Steven’s research, she was straight-up volunteering to be a test subject. That was a first for him.
Still, the more absurd a request was, the less likely Steven was to accept it so easily.
"What’s in it for you?" he asked, his tone serious. "You do realize that drinking my stuff doesn’t just ‘cure’ Oripathy, right? If your body isn’t strong enough, you won’t just get healed—you’ll die. Plain and simple."
This was a harsh reality—his milk did have the power to cure Oripathy, but if it wasn’t used in combination with other treatments, most Infected wouldn’t even survive the sudden eradication of the disease.
"I want to take this chance to study and learn from your medicine."
As always, Gavial was straightforward with her thoughts.
"Back in my homeland, many people suffer from Oripathy. And all across this land, there are countless others just like them. After witnessing what your medicine can do, there’s no way I can just give up on researching it."
Her tone was calm and steady, but she knew exactly what she was saying.
She had personally witnessed the horrors that Steven’s milk could bring. Even the Aegirian Abyssal Hunters had nearly been driven insane by the agony it caused. With her level of physical endurance, there was no guarantee she could withstand it, either.
That was exactly why Kal’tsit and Warfarin had rejected her when she originally volunteered as a test subject. They didn’t want to see her put herself in such danger.
But that went against Gavial’s core beliefs.
She had already made it clear—giving up on this research simply wasn’t an option.
"Hmm…"
Steven fell silent for a long time after hearing her out, his gaze locked onto hers, as if trying to detect any deception in her words.
But he found nothing.
Her golden eyes held only unwavering sincerity.
"I just don’t get you people who live your lives for others," Steven sighed.
Whether it was Gavial now or the elite operators of Rhodes Island he had encountered earlier, he didn’t know how to feel about them.
Living like this… wasn’t it exhausting?
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Chapter 69: Chapter 69: Take It Off!
Chapter Text
"Alright then. If you think you can actually learn something from this, I guess I have no reason to stop you. Even though it’s obviously a waste of time. But even if I told you that, you wouldn’t give up, would you?"
Shrugging, Steven pushed the stack of Lungmen dollars back toward Gavial.
He had already made it clear—he wasn’t like those sleazy merchants. One penny for one penny’s worth. Since she was volunteering to be his test subject, he figured not charging her was already kind enough. Taking her money on top of that? Now that would be heartless.
Gavial watched as Steven returned the money, thinking for a moment that he was going to reject her request. But his next words made her eyes light up with hope.
As expected, this guy might be a little weird, but if you reasoned with him properly, he wasn’t that difficult to deal with.
In fact, sometimes, it was easier to talk to Steven than to deal with all the scheming and mind games of others. He was straightforward—no unnecessary twists and turns.
"So… that means you’re agreeing?"
"I don’t really care, honestly. Whoever it is, it makes no difference to me. I just need test subjects for my medicine—that’s all that matters."
Steven spread his hands casually. Since Gavial was willing to take the risk herself, he had no reason to stop her.
After all, she wasn't like Gladiia, who was practically his adopted daughter.
"And since you’re so eager, go ahead and take off your clothes then."
With his arms crossed, Steven stood up and once again gave her a thorough up-and-down look.
"Huh?"
Gavial’s expression stiffened.
"Y-You— Are you actually that kind of person?"
She clutched the collar of her shirt tightly, her gaze toward Steven turning suspicious again.
So that’s why he refused the money earlier? He was waiting for this moment instead?!
"Yup, I’m exactly that kind of person," Steven replied without hesitation. "You know, humans only have two states—hungry or… horny. I just had a drink, so obviously, I’m in the second state now. If you want my cooperation, then hurry up and strip."
Steven grinned mischievously. He knew exactly why she reacted this way, so he deliberately played along.
"So? Are you gonna cooperate, or are you gonna scream for help?"
He smirked, watching the flustered green-haired crocodile girl struggle with her thoughts.
"Just a heads-up—if you scream, someone will come to save you."
But that very last remark was what made Gavial snap back to reality.
She studied his expression carefully—there was no disgusting desire in his eyes. Instead, all she saw was the barely restrained amusement at her reaction.
‘This bastard just wants to mess with me!’
"Wait— You’re just trying to check my Oripathy crystal formations, aren’t you?"
The moment she said it out loud, Gavial realized that was probably the truth.
Considering Steven’s unique way of thinking, of course he would do something like this.
"Well, what else?" Steven snorted. "What, did you think I was about to pounce on you because we’re all alone on this long, lonely night? That I couldn’t hold back my primal urges and wanted to leave a descendent with you? Would that be a better excuse?"
Steven covered his mouth, letting out a chuckle.
Watching this once-righteous, ready-to-sacrifice-herself-for-science girl now flustered and embarrassed… Well, that was definitely entertaining.
What’s wrong with making life a little more interesting?
"Alright, alright, enough already! I’ll take it off, okay?"
Gavial sighed in defeat.
Even though she knew that Steven was just messing with her, she still couldn’t stand his mouth.
Waving him off, she unfastened her black trench coat and shrugged it off her shoulders.
Now that she was sure he wasn’t up to anything shady, Gavial didn’t hesitate like some shy, delicate girl might have.
As her coat hit the ground, her white sports wrap and toned, athletic waist were revealed.
Steven had to admit—when it came to waists, Gavial had one of the best he’d ever seen.
Sure, he wasn’t some legendary playboy with a long list of exes, but in the internet age, anyone could see beautiful women with just a few clicks.
And yet, even among all the waists he had seen, none quite matched Gavial’s.
Her narrow yet powerful waistline was something his hands could just barely wrap around. There was zero excess fat, her defined abs were on full display, and the smooth curve connecting her thighs to her lower abdomen made Steven unconsciously lick his lips.
It was slim yet strong—her well-trained core muscles were proof of that. It was obvious she worked on her waist and abs regularly.
‘Damn… I wonder how it feels to touch…’
But of course, this masterpiece of a waistline had a single flaw—right next to her cute little belly button, a few dark crystalline growths protruded from beneath her skin.
"Can you stop staring at my waist? It’s starting to feel weird."
Shuffling slightly under his intense gaze, Gavial finally moved her crocodile-like tail in front of her stomach, using it to cover her belly button.
"You’re supposed to be looking at the Originium crystals, not just staring at my waist!"
Even though she wasn’t someone who cared much about people’s stares, that didn’t mean she couldn’t get embarrassed.
"I mean, you won’t let me look anywhere else, so what choice do I have?"
Steven grinned, but his playful tone had softened a bit. Pushing aside her tail, he finally focused on the dark, jagged crystals embedded in her skin.
"Can I touch them?"
"Would you actually listen if I said no? Just don’t touch anything weird."
Gavial rolled her eyes. She could already tell—Steven had his hand out before he even asked. Clearly, her answer didn’t matter.
This time, Steven didn’t make any more jokes.
After all—you don’t just touch a man’s head or a woman’s waist without consequences.
What if she decided to blackmail him later?
With gentle pressure, he pressed a finger against one of the black crystals. The moment his skin touched it, he noted the sensation—cold, smooth, and as hard as stone.
It was almost like a polished gem.
If Steven didn’t know this was caused by Oripathy, he might have assumed it was just a body modification, like a piercing or a dermal implant.
After all, humans have always been creative when it comes to modifying their own bodies.
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Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Treatment Methods
Chapter Text
"Can you feel anything?"
After confirming that these Originium crystals wouldn’t explode on contact or emit radiation like Specter’s did, Steven finally lifted his gaze and asked the girl in front of him.
Her face was tinged with pink, but she quickly regained her composure.
"No. Infected Originium crystals are usually very stable. As long as you don’t press them against an open wound or something like that, there’s no risk of infection."
Seeing that Steven was finally taking things seriously instead of spouting nonsense, Gavial suppressed the last traces of embarrassment and shook her head in response.
"So… doesn’t that make this just a really big kidney stone?"
Steven scratched his head, trying to make sense of things with his limited medical knowledge.
No matter how he looked at it, this seemed awfully similar to a condition that middle-aged men dreaded.
The only difference was that kidney stones were internal and not contagious.
"…Can you not describe it in such an uncomfortable way?"
The corner of Gavial’s eye twitched.
She had just started thinking that Steven might actually be serious for once—but he barely lasted three sentences before he started talking nonsense again.
"Anyway, that’s basically the idea, right? If these things don’t have any sensation, then in theory, they should be removable through surgery, right?"
After removing his hand from the Originium crystal, Steven rubbed his chin, voicing a question.
For any kind of abnormal growth, the first step in treatment should be removal, right?
"Do you think we haven’t tried?"
Gavial let out a sigh.
"These crystals might look like ordinary rocks when they’re inactive, but in reality, they behave more like unawakened fungi. They exist as a physical manifestation of the Originium inside an infected person’s body. If you forcibly remove them, the Originium within the patient’s bloodstream will quickly destabilize."
"At that point, the infected individual will enter the final stage of infection, effectively turning into a walking Originium bomb that could explode at any moment. Worse yet, once active, the Originium becomes even more contagious."
Calmly, Gavial recited the Rhodes Island research findings regarding Oripathy.
As a specialist in the field, she understood all too well the dangers of reckless removal.
Her explanation sounded simple, but the knowledge behind it came at the cost of countless lives—those who had died testing these theories.
"Tch. So basically, unless you can completely cure it, you can’t touch these things at all?"
Steven scratched his head again.
Gavial’s comparison to a parasitic organism is surprisingly apt. And, considering the effects of his milk, it pretty much confirmed his theory.
In essence, the milk worked by brutally flushing out the infected Originium and removing all affected areas. That explained why people suffered extreme pain after drinking it—it was essentially forcibly erasing parts of their body.
So in theory, as long as he could remove the infected parts while ensuring that new tissue regenerated fast enough to replace them, he could solve the problem entirely.
Of course, that idea sounded completely unrealistic.
After all, what kind of human could regenerate lost body parts so quickly?
—But for Steven, that was actually the easiest part of the problem.
If recovery is the issue, then wouldn’t a Regeneration Potion fix everything?
Worst case scenario, just eat a Golden Apple—that should be more than enough, right?
But that brings up another problem.
Milk doesn’t just remove negative status effects—it also wipes out positive ones. That means it’s impossible to use both together.
‘So that means I need to use instant recovery potions instead? But if I do that, the amount I’ll need will be hard to control…’
The treatment had to ensure that the patient didn’t die from the milk’s purge effect while also restoring their health fast enough to prevent secondary Originium infection. That meant multiple doses of healing potions would be required.
Which also meant a massive increase in potion consumption.
Steven nodded slightly, finalizing the treatment plan in his mind.
Other than the huge amount of instant healing potions he’d need, there didn’t seem to be any glaring issues.
As for the cost, if he couldn’t lower expenses, then he’d just increase the price—simple as that. No way he was gonna take a loss on this.
"Wait, you already have a plan?"
Gavial had been watching his expressions closely—first troubled, then confident—and finally couldn’t hold back her curiosity.
She quickly used her tail to cover up her exposed stomach and asked impatiently.
"I guess you could say I have a rough idea. But I still need to test it first… And even if it works, most people probably won’t be able to accept it."
Steven nodded.
The cost of healing potions wasn’t actually that high. Nether wart and melons could be farmed easily, and blaze powder and gold nuggets weren’t exactly rare.
But value wasn’t just based on materials—it was also about effort.
Brewing potions was a pain in the ass, and if he relied on equivalent exchange, it would be too expensive. No matter how he looked at it, it felt annoying.
And aside from that, there was one more issue that worried him.
"What do you mean people won’t be able to accept it?"
Gavial tilted her head.
"If it’s about the price, I can understand. Your medicines definitely don’t look cheap."
She knew all about supply and demand—rare goods command high prices.
"It’s not just the price. The real issue is something… most people simply won’t be able to handle."
"Then just tell me! As a doctor, maybe I can offer some suggestions."
Gavial’s eyes sparkled. If Steven was willing to explain, she might actually learn something new.
"Oh, it’s nothing much."
Steven shrugged casually before smiling and demonstrating with his hands.
"Basically, to heal someone, I just need to take a bladed tool, slice open their flesh, and dig out the Originium, which would cause blood to gush out everywhere—"
"The patient, upon seeing this, will naturally be terrified beyond belief."
As he spoke, he even mimed the cutting motions, looking dangerously close to performing a live demonstration on Gavial herself.
"Just say you need to surgically remove the Originium crystals."
Gavial facepalmed, her voice dropping to a whisper.
It was just a surgery—why the hell did he have to describe it like a crime scene?
"No, surgery is too slow. It has to be quick and efficient—and we can’t use anesthesia, since the patient still needs to drink the potions during the process."
Steven shook his head, rejecting Gavial’s idea outright.
Come on—if they took their time with an actual surgery, who knew if the patient would even survive?
Not to mention, they’d probably burn through several bottles of healing potion before they were even halfway done.
No, treatment had to be fast, precise, and ruthless.
A few swift strikes to cut open the infected areas, then force-feed the patient a healing potion to instantly recover.
After that, just alternated between cutting the patient's now-healed flesh, digging out the remaining crystal, giving them milk and healing potions, and kept on repeating it over and over again until the disease was completely purged.
As for whether this method might leave the patient with psychological trauma... Well, that wasn’t his problem.
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Chapter 71: Chapter 71: If You Were a Dragon, That’d Be Nice
Chapter Text
"You might as well just kill the patient and revive them afterward—it’d be a cleaner solution. Do you even realize how much pain cutting out Originium without anesthesia would cause?"
After hearing Steven’s explanation, Gavial felt like he should’ve just kept his mouth shut.
This so-called treatment—even by the wild standards of her homeland—was something almost no one would accept.
"That’s why it still needs improvement."
Steven had considered using Lingering Potions of Healing, but that led to another issue—Dragon’s Breath.
He had no idea how he was supposed to get his hands on that in this world. This place definitely didn’t look like it had any End Portals lying around.
"Oh, right! Speaking of which, Rhodes Island has all sorts of strange people—do you guys have dragons?"
Steven scratched his head. He just realized he never added Dragon’s Breath to his Transmutation Table’s recipe list. After all, when you had easy access to the End, it was something you could farm endlessly—no need to waste EMC points.
"Dragons? Are you talking about the Lung from Yan, or the Victoria Draco?"
Gavial was a bit confused by Steven’s sudden question. Wasn't he just thinking about how to cure Oripathy? Why did he suddenly change the subject to dragons?
She couldn’t understand how the two were connected, but still answered honestly.
"Huh? Do you mean to say there are Oriental dragons too? That’s surprising. But no, I’m looking for the kind with wings, the big lizard-type—probably the Dracos you mentioned?"
"You know, creatures with a head like this."
Steven vaguely recalled Kal'tsit mentioning something when she saw his Ender Dragon Head before.
So, he reached into his inventory, pulled it out, and plopped it onto his head, showing it to the girl in front of him.
But from Gavial’s perspective, it looked like magic.
In the blink of an eye, Steven’s handsome face had completely vanished, replaced by a fierce, menacing dragon head.
Even though Gavial prided herself on having nerves of steel, she instinctively took a step back.
Only after clutching her chest and taking a couple of deep breaths did she recognize Steven beneath the dragon mask.
Her confusion only deepened.
"Wait— how the hell did you do that?"
"It’s just a helmet. Don’t sweat the details. So, do you know any real Dracos?"
Steven actually had mods that let him raise and ride dragons, but using them just to get Dragon’s Breath felt a bit wasteful.
If he could find dragons in this world naturally, it’d be way easier.
After all, Dragon’s Breath didn’t specify it had to come from an Ender Dragon.
A Draco’s breath should count too, right?
"Unfortunately… I’ve only ever seen records of their existence. As far as I know, they went extinct a long time ago."
Gavial relaxed once she confirmed Steven was still the same annoying bastard as before.
She sighed and shook her head.
"Actually, the way you look right now… you resemble a Draco ancestor more than anything I’ve seen in books."
As a curious doctor, she couldn’t help but reach out and gently stroke the dragon head resting on Steven’s shoulders.
The texture felt exactly like real skin.
If she hadn’t watched Steven transform in front of her, and if he had a tail, Gavial would’ve seriously believed he was some kind of Draco ancestor disguised as a human.
"Stop touching me. It’s itchy."
Steven grimaced and swatted Gavial’s small hand away.
He really didn’t understand why every time he put this damn dragon head on, people just couldn’t resist touching it.
What, did they think his head was some kind of petting zoo attraction?
If they were that interested, they might as well go touch his other ‘dragon head’ as well.
…Never mind.
Since her touch was at least gentle, he decided to let it slide this time.
But still, if the Dracos were extinct, that meant his plan to extract Dragon’s Breath from a dragon-human hybrid was out the window.
Without a Lingering Potion of Healing, he’d have to use a less efficient method instead.
"So why did you even ask? You need Dracos for the treatment?"
Gavial reluctantly withdrew her hand, though she still found the experience of stroking a dragon’s head up close strangely novel.
"Would you believe me if I said I needed a Draco’s spit?"
"It’s for medicine. But saying it out loud just makes it sound disgusting."
Despite his words, Steven had zero intention of hiding it from her.
Sure enough, the green-haired crocodile girl immediately looked like she’d just been force-fed a rotten lemon.
Sure, in the world of medicine, all sorts of weird and nasty stuff could be used as ingredients, but using someone else’s saliva?
That was just gross.
"Hey, you asked. And didn’t you say you wanted to study my potions? Well, this is a key ingredient. Whether you believe it or not is up to you."
Steven wasn’t lying.
Dragon’s Breath was crucial for crafting Lingering Potions, so it technically counted as an ingredient.
"So… without it, there’s no way to treat Oripathy?"
Gavial frowned.
She didn’t know what Steven was thinking, but she felt disappointed.
She had already expected that Oripathy wasn’t something that could be cured easily—if it were as simple as drinking a potion, then the world wouldn’t be filled with so many Infected in the first place.
"I’ll have to try some other methods. But for now, I probably won’t need to use you as a test subject."
Steven had already simulated most of the treatment process in his head.
At worst, it was just a matter of how many Healing Potions he’d need.
But there was no need to explain all that.
As long as he acted like the treatment wasn’t complete yet, he wouldn’t have to deal with Kal'tsit and the others bothering him all the time.
He knew exactly what would happen if they saw how effective his Healing Potions were.
They’d hound him relentlessly.
Why bring trouble to himself?
"Alright, today’s ‘Beautiful Girl Waist Exhibition’ is officially over. I’m going home to sleep and cherish these beautiful memories."
"You should get dressed. And be careful—you might catch a cold."
Steven stretched lazily and got up, signaling that Gavial could put her clothes back on.
Now that he’d figured out how to treat Oripathy, if he ever felt like playing doctor, he at least had a solid plan.
It was just a shame that this world didn’t have something like a Nobel Prize in Medicine.
If it did, wouldn’t he have won it effortlessly?
As he entertained this self-indulgent thought, he failed to notice the girl beside him clenching her fists—ready to punch him at any moment.
‘This bastard— Why is he always so infuriating?’
With a flush creeping up her cheeks, Gavial found herself at a complete loss as to how to deal with this insufferable man.
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Chapter 72: Chapter 72: Night Raid on the Enemy to Crush Their Morale
Chapter Text
After being kicked out of Gavial’s room in a fit of embarrassed rage, Steven cheerfully strolled back to his own room.
He had been busy all day—it was finally time to relax.
"Today was another fun-filled day. Hope tomorrow brings even more entertainment."
After another shower, he flopped onto his bed, closed his eyes, and drifted off almost instantly.
A minecrafter had always had the unique ability to fall asleep instantly the moment their head hit the pillow, and then waking up precisely at 6 a.m. without fail.
And Steven was no exception—he had never experienced insomnia in his life.
His consciousness faded fast.
<+>
If everything went according to plan, he would wake up at 6 a.m. as usual.
However, this was Rhodes Island, and expecting nothing to go wrong here was... unlikely.
So, instead of waking up at 6 AM, Steven’s eyes snapped open suddenly, staring helplessly at a notification in the chatbox at the bottom right corner of his vision:
[You may not rest, there are monsters nearby.]
This wasn’t a matter of choice—the damn system simply wouldn’t let him sleep.
As his mind caught up, he realized someone was staring at him—a pair of brilliant red eyes, glowing like gemstones in the darkness.
Long elf-like ears and white hair—for a brief, drowsy moment, Steven almost mistook her for his adopted daughter.
But obviously, his daughter wasn’t… this flat.
And Gladiia definitely didn’t have those sharp little vampire fangs.
"I think you should be grateful that I don’t have a bad temper when I wake up. Also, if you really are here to rape me, I can pretend to still be asleep. Want to continue?"
Steven’s deadpan remark shattered the awkwardness of their silent stare-off.
But for Warfarin, it just made things even more awkward.
‘How the hell does this guy have such sharp instincts?’
When she had checked from outside, he had been sleeping like a corpse—yet the moment she got close, he instantly woke up?
And what the hell did he mean by "rape"?
Did she look like some desperate woman who would sneak into his room in the middle of the night?!
"If I said yes, would you cooperate with what I’m about to do next?"
After a moment’s thought, Warfarin blinked her glowing eyes and flashed him a fake, overly sweet smile.
"Honestly? Probably not. I prefer girls with bigger breasts, not ones that are indistinguishable from children. If I go along with this, I feel like I’d be the one who gets arrested and sent to jail."
Steven shook his head in disappointment.
Sure, the girl in front of him had that mature charm that only came with age, but in terms of appearance, she still looked like a kid.
People could argue all day about her being a legal loli, but that was for the judges to decide—not him.
Even if he liked this type of character, actually going through with it?
Yeah, no.
"Oof. That really stings."
Warfarin clutched her chest as if mortally wounded.
"Do you have any idea how much psychological damage it causes a mature girl when you imply that her figure is that of a child?”
With no one else around, she seemed way more relaxed than usual.
Steven couldn't help but notice the change.
Sometimes, she even felt a bit like him—just as mischievous.
"Hey, it’s not like I slapped you or anything. I’m just stating facts. Sometimes, facing reality head-on is less painful than dragging it out like a slow knife. Give it up—you’re just flat-chested."
Steven didn’t mind joking around with her.
In fact, having someone to banter with like this was pretty fun.
"This isn’t just cruel anymore—this is verbal abuse! No, I can’t take it! My heart hurts so much! Unless you hand over at least ten liters of blood, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk out of this room alive!"
Still clutching her chest dramatically, Warfarin’s acting was so flawless that even Steven had to admit she was better at this than he was.
Some women just had a natural talent for this kind of thing—he had to give credit where it was due.
"Ten liters of blood? You’d have to drain me completely dry for that. What do you think I am, a mobile blood bank?"
Then again… with regeneration potions and healing elixirs, maybe he could be considered one.
"So, Miss Warfarin, the reason for your night raid is to suck my blood? Are you actually a vampire?"
Steven didn’t follow up on her melodramatic plea—it was obvious that she was just messing around, much like him.
"How could you say that?!"
Warfarin feigned offense, though her tone remained completely nonchalant.
"This is merely a necessary blood sample for medical purposes. It just so happens that you were asleep when I arrived. And it just so happens that I didn’t have the right tools on hand. And it just so happens that, as a Vampire Sarkaz, I conveniently have fangs designed for extracting blood."
She had casually dropped three ‘just so happens’ into her sentence—yet there was not a trace of shame in her expression.
Her ability to bullshit on the fly was almost on par with Steven’s.
"And then it just so happens that I woke up, huh?"
Steven chuckled and sat up, still holding her gaze.
Since he was already awake, and with this situation being what it was, going back to sleep was out of the question.
Might as well chat with her a little longer.
It wasn’t like he was short on time for talking to people.
"You’re right. So… will you cooperate with my work? You don’t have to give ten liters, just a few milliliters will do. If that’s too much trouble… even letting me have a taste would be fine."
Warfarin licked her lips playfully, her crimson eyes narrowing as she awaited his answer.
She had realized earlier in the day that going all out with her conversations worked best with Steven—it made gaining his favor easier, and it was more fun for her too.
"Yeah, no. I’m anemic. How about you try something else? You know that saying—‘The blood is not the only thing you can suck—’"
Steven paused mid-sentence, his eyes flickering to the sharp fangs peeking out from her lips.
In the end, he dropped the joke entirely.
It wasn’t that he was embarrassed—he just wasn’t about to risk his future fatherhood over it.
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Chapter 73: Chapter 73: Get Me One Too
Chapter Text
Chapter 73: Get Me One Too
"You actually have moments where you think saying something is inappropriate?"
Steven had stopped himself mid-sentence, and Warfarin found it curious.
For someone who had lived for so many years, she definitely knew what he was about to say.
She wasn’t the type to care about such things, so she was far more interested in why Steven suddenly shut his mouth.
Wasn’t he always the type to say whatever was on his mind?
"Of course! Some jokes just shouldn’t be made. What if you actually took it seriously and did something to this poor, helpless young man? I’m so weak and defenseless—if you decided to get rough, I’d have no choice but to submit."
Steven crossed his arms over his chest, putting on an exaggerated look of vulnerability.
"Heh."
Warfarin simply scoffed at his theatrics.
She wasn’t sure exactly how strong he was, but she did know that when Specter went berserk earlier, this guy had managed to stop both Abyssal Hunters by himself.
Even she wasn’t confident she could take one of them on in a direct fight.
Yet, this guy had handled them both effortlessly—without even breaking a sweat.
And judging by Skadi’s reaction afterward, Steven hadn’t even used Originium Arts—he had relied entirely on his physical strength to suppress them to the point where they couldn’t even fight back.
What kind of human-shaped monster was this?!
But strangely enough, that only made Warfarin even more intrigued.
His strength was one thing—but his blood… that was what she was really curious about.
Yet Kal'tsit had explicitly forbidden her from going anywhere near him.
Let alone taking a blood sample.
"The consequences of angering him are more than we can afford."
That was what Kal'tsit had told her.
But Warfarin wasn’t so sure.
From what she could tell, making Steven genuinely mad wasn’t easy.
He didn’t seem to care deeply about many things.
As long as you didn’t deliberately provoke him, he was actually pretty easygoing.
Even if you had an absurd request, as long as you were upfront about it, he might actually consider it.
Of course, whether or not he agreed was another matter.
But if you beat around the bush too much, that was when he’d get annoyed.
"What are you laughing at?"
Steven narrowed his eyes.
"Anyway, Miss Vampire, I don’t have the Stone Mask, and my name isn’t Joseph. If you can’t suck my blood, then isn’t it a bit inappropriate for you to be hanging around in a single man’s room like this?"
He had no idea that the Vampire in front of him had actually figured out a bit of his personality.
All he saw was her smirking, then suddenly going silent.
And that silence was getting on his nerves.
"If you’ve got something to say, say it. If not, get lost. You’re messing with my quality sleep."
He was grateful he didn’t have a habit of sleeping naked—otherwise, wouldn’t he be at a huge disadvantage right now?
"Oh, but I think it’s nice here."
Warfarin grinned, finally snapping out of her thoughts.
"Maybe if I chat with Mr. Steve for a little longer, you’ll start feeling good enough to let me have a little taste of your blood."
She made zero effort to hide her true intentions.
And judging by her expression, she had no plans to leave anytime soon.
"Tsk. You’re just as shameless as I am, huh?"
Steven clicked his tongue.
"But I’m really tired. If I don’t sleep soon, I’ll lose six hours of premium beauty rest."
For someone as shameless as he was, dealing with another shameless person was honestly kind of annoying.
"Then how about just one bite? Don’t worry, you won’t feel any pain. In fact, you might even enjoy it~"
Warfarin ran a finger over one of her fangs, her voice dripping with amusement.
Truthfully, Vampires didn’t need to use their fangs to drink blood.
Biting into someone’s artery like a wild beast was actually considered quite uncivilized by their standards.
Most of the time, she preferred using blood bags—or if she wanted to be more sophisticated, a wine glass would do.
But there was no way Steven would sit still and let her poke him with a needle.
So clearly, she’d have to try using the built-in tools she was born with—ones that had never even been unsealed before.
"If you just want to kiss me, I don’t mind—but biting? That’s a bit too steamy, don’t you think? I can’t handle that. How about we just drop it? Can’t we do this without drawing blood? What if I told you I’m hemophobic—would you believe me?"
Steven casually threw out an excuse, though even he didn’t believe it.
A guy like him, who loved watching rivers of blood flow, getting lightheaded at the sight of it?
Yeah, right.
"Oh, come now, Mr. Steve, you must be joking. I'm really just here to conduct a simple medical examination. How about this—you tell me your conditions, and we’ll just treat this as a trade, okay?"
At this point, giving up was not an option for Warfarin.
Even if she had to pull out every trick in the book, she was going to get a taste of Steven.
The closer she got to him, the more that scent inside him triggered something primal in her.
It was like an instinctual craving, and resisting it was incredibly difficult for a Vampire Sarkaz.
"Any condition?"
"You name it."
"I want Kal'tsit’s Mon3tr."
The moment Warfarin agreed, Steven’s eyes lit up.
Judging by what he saw earlier in the day, this vampire seemed to have a pretty good relationship with Kal'tsit.
If that was the case, then maybe—just maybe—she had a way to get him what he really wanted.
Ever since he first saw that insanely cool summon of Kal'tsit’s, he had been itching to get his hands on one himself.
"Huh?"
"If you want to suck my blood, fine. Just get me a Mon3tr like Kal'tsit’s. Otherwise, no deal."
Steven repeated himself, his expression dead serious.
"Wait, wait—what do you even want that thing for? Do you even know what it is?"
Warfarin’s face twisted in confusion.
Of course, she knew exactly what Mon3tr was.
It was Kal'tsit’s primary combat ability—and the main reason she had been dragged to Rhodes Island in the first place.
That thing had practically held her hostage back then!
Of all things Steven could’ve asked for, why did it have to be that?!
And did he even know how Mon3tr worked?
It was literally summoned from Kal'tsit’s spine—that was why she always wore backless clothes.
Where the hell was Warfarin supposed to pull another one from?!
Not to mention, Kal'tsit was always watching like a hawk.
"I have no idea. I just know it looks cool, and I want one."
Steven shrugged.
She was the one who said he could ask for anything, right?
"If you can’t do it, then there’s nothing to discuss. That’s the only thing I’m interested in right now."
He spread his hands, as if to say, “Not my problem.”
"W-Wait! I never said I wouldn’t at least try! But before that, can I just—"
Seeing that Steven was ready to drop the whole thing, Warfarin panicked.
She quickly grabbed his arm, put on a smiling face, and—without another word—lunged forward to bite his exposed forearm.
She’d figure the rest out later—but first, she needed a taste!
Or at least, that was the plan.
But before she could sink her fangs in, Steven’s hand snatched both of her cheeks, pinching them like she was a small cat.
Warfarin’s bite attempt was immediately halted, and her face was now puffed up in a pout.
"Payment first, goods later. No one gets an exception."
Steven chuckled, keeping his grip firm as he smiled mischievously at her.
Chapter 74: Chapter 74: My Fun Radar Is Going Off
Chapter Text
Chapter 74: My Fun Radar Is Going Off
After picking Warfarin up like a misbehaving kitten and tossing her out of his room, Steven locked the door and flopped back onto his bed.
Sure, locking the door wouldn’t actually stop anyone determined to break in, but at least it sent a clear message—he didn’t want to be disturbed.
If anyone dared to interrupt his precious sleep again, Steven couldn’t guarantee he’d stay as polite as before.
Thankfully, that unexpected disturbance didn’t repeat itself.
By the time Steven woke up, the clock on the side read 6:00 AM.
He stretched, sat up, and did a quick wash-up routine.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep in—it was just that, as a Minecrafter, his body physically wouldn’t let him stay in bed during the day.
Of course, he had solved that issue with mods.
What kind of miserable existence would he be leading if he couldn’t even enjoy such a basic luxury?
After all, the whole point of installing mods was to enhance the player experience, wasn’t it?
But that wasn’t the reason he was up so early today.
No—he was awake because of the loud commotion outside.
And it had piqued his curiosity.
‘My Fun Radar is going off—there's definitely something interesting happening nearby.’
Squinting his eyes, Steven opened his door—only to spot two familiar middle-aged men.
"Yo! Ace! Scout! Morning! What’s all the noise about?"
He greeted the two elite operators, who had already returned to their usual composed selves.
Steven wasn’t the least bit upset about their sudden disappearance the other day.
In fact, if he were in their shoes, he would’ve run too.
Their boss busted them for slacking off—what else were they supposed to do, just sit there and wait for judgment?
The only reason he stayed was because he wanted to see Kal’tsit scold Closure—otherwise, he would’ve dipped as well.
"You’ve got good hearing, Steve—did the noise wake you up? We were just about to come get you."
Ace took the lead in responding.
Meanwhile, Scout, who was keeping up his ‘cool and silent’ persona now that he wasn’t drinking, simply nodded at Steven in greeting.
"I’ve always been healthy, you know. So what’s going on? Anything fun to see?"
"Fun?"
Ace frowned slightly, clearly not understanding what Steven meant.
"I don’t know what you mean by ‘fun,’ but yeah, there’s been a bit of trouble. Looks like an Oripathy patient’s condition is spiraling out of control. It’s a common occurrence on Rhodes Island… but definitely nothing to be happy about."
As Ace spoke, his tone grew heavy.
Every Infected would eventually reach this stage—it was their fate.
And when an Infected lost control, they became a walking, unstable Originium bomb.
That was why Rhodes Island could never turn a blind eye to situations like this.
"Oh? That’s a thing? I gotta go check it out."
Steven had seen Oripathy before—hell, he had even been infected once—but those so-called ‘final stages’ that Ace mentioned?
He was curious.
So, what? Did their bodies explode when they died?
Did that mean they were basically Creepers with a debuff?
Okay, sure, that was a bit of a morbid comparison, but that was pretty much the only way Steven could wrap his head around it.
And something that interesting?
There was no way in hell he was missing out.
Following behind the two elite operators, Steven quickly arrived at the chaotic epicenter of the situation.
Just as Steven had guessed, the source of the commotion was indeed one of the patient rooms he had seen before.
Even before reaching the door, he could already feel a bone-chilling cold seeping out from within. It was like stepping into an air-conditioned room cranked to sub-zero temperatures in the dead of winter.
Despite the number of Rhodes Island members gathered around, their presence did nothing to dispel the freezing air.
And the moment Steven actually saw the room—now coated in a thick layer of frost—he finally understood why.
‘This isn’t a patient room… this is just a massive industrial freezer.’
‘What’s going on here? Does Oripathy flare up with effects like this? That’s pretty cool, honestly.’
Ace and the others, being elite operators, immediately started securing the area and shooing away onlookers.
Steven, however, quickly spotted Kal’tsit and Amiya approaching from a distance.
Walking up to them, he immediately asked, “This is nothing like what I had expected. Do Oripathy outbreaks come with elemental effects now?”
"No… this isn’t an inherent symptom of Oripathy."
Kal’tsit’s expression was grim.
"The child inside… she didn’t want her final moments to bring harm to others. So she created this place—her own frozen coffin."
Even with all the deaths she had witnessed over the years, Kal’tsit still couldn’t remain indifferent when it came to the loss of an operator she once worked alongside.
They had realized the problem too late.
The patient had always been a quiet, introverted girl—someone who preferred hiding away in corners, listening to music alone rather than socializing.
For someone like that, it was unlikely she would have spoken up about her condition even if she had felt unwell.
And Oripathy’s outbreak patterns were unpredictable.
Now, the sheer concentration of Originium energy leaking from the room made it clear—her body’s Originium infection had fully activated.
Most likely, once the pain became unbearable and she lost consciousness, her life would come to an end.
That poor child hadn’t even managed to make a single friend at Rhodes Island, despite being with them for so long.
"So that means there’s nothing for me to see?"
Steven scratched his head.
From what he gathered, the Infected girl had voluntarily frozen her entire room to prevent her own post-mortem explosion from affecting others.
No one could get in, and when she died, the explosion wouldn’t spread either.
Honestly, Steven respected people like that—people who wouldn’t burden others even in death.
Even if it was the end, they still chose to think of others first.
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do the same in her position.
"But aren’t you guys supposed to be the experts on this stuff? You’re just standing here watching? Shouldn’t you be doing something?"
Steven turned to Kal’tsit, puzzled by her inaction.
Her sharp gaze, now tinged with anger, shot toward him the moment he finished speaking.
But instead of staring at him, wouldn’t it be better if she was figuring out a way to save that girl?
After all, from her tone, that person wasn’t dead yet—just close to it.
Chapter 75: Chapter 75: Damn, Bro, You’re So Damn Weird
Chapter Text
Chapter 75: Damn, Bro, You’re So Damn Weird
"Of course I know we need to do something, but once the Originium inside a body has fully activated, there's no way to suppress it anymore."
Although Kal’tsit spoke with certainty, her gaze remained locked onto Steven, her golden eyes meeting his.
Not only that, but Amiya, who stood beside her, suddenly grabbed onto Steven’s hand.
She didn’t even care about the risk of passing out again from her subconscious mind-reading tendencies.
Her water-blue eyes stared desperately into Steven’s, her lips parting with hope.
"But, Mr. Steve, you definitely—"
"Definitely what? That I'll definitely step in? No way. I’m just here watching, okay?"
Steven cut her off before she could finish.
"I don’t even know who’s inside that room. I don’t know if it’s a man or a woman, a human or a ghost. You seriously expect me to risk my life for someone completely unrelated to me?"
"Sorry, but I’m not exactly overflowing with saintly compassion."
From Amiya’s expression alone, Steven could already guess what she was going to ask.
But just as he said—this had nothing to do with him.
Why the hell would he stick his neck out and invite trouble for himself?
Besides—just yesterday, he had barely hinted at the possibility of curing Oripathy, and today, suddenly someone was on the verge of dying from it?
It was hard not to suspect that Kal’tsit was testing him.
"Don’t look at me like that. I’m not so far gone that I’d use my own patients' lives to pull something like this."
Noticing Steven’s doubtful look, Kal’tsit immediately shook her head and denied any involvement in orchestrating the situation.
Using an infected life to morally trap him?
She would never do such a thing, to the infected or not.
Besides, the only person that the patient inside had any real connection with was the one who performed her regular medical check-ups—Warfarin.
If Kal’tsit had set this up, Warfarin would be the first to object.
And as Kal’tsit was thinking this, a crimson light suddenly flashed before them—
Warfarin herself had just appeared.
"How’s that little Vulpo holding up?"
Her usual playful charm was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, Warfarin’s face carried a seriousness that Steven had never witnessed before.
She didn’t even glance at him, completely focused on Kal’tsit as she asked her question.
"She locked herself in. Judging by the Originium energy leaking out, her infection has likely spread and fully activated throughout her body."
Kal’tsit shook her head as she delivered her cruel verdict—one that was practically a death sentence.
"Her neighbors said she had been secretly practicing Originium Arts in private, which triggered it."
Warfarin’s hands clenched into tight fists.
But rather than anger, her expression was filled with guilt.
"I’ve told her countless times that she doesn’t have to fight anymore!"
"She’s not a Columbia soldier anymore. She’s not some tool for Rhodes Island. Why couldn’t she just live peacefully as a patient?"
Her voice trembled slightly.
And then—
As if she suddenly remembered something, Warfarin’s head snapped toward Steven, who was trying to quietly slip away.
"If it’s you, there’s definitely a way to save her, right?"
Without caring about the others around them, Warfarin completely dropped her usual act and threw herself at Steven, clutching his leg tightly, her voice filled with certainty.
"Not here, people are watching. It’s not a good look."
Steven’s mouth twitched as he glanced around.
Luckily, the elite operators had already cleared the area of bystanders.
If the patients saw their normally cool and composed Warfarin clinging to someone’s leg like this, their reactions would be... interesting.
Well, probably something similar to Amiya’s current expression.
Seeing Amiya’s jaw drop in shock, Steven couldn’t help but mentally chuckle in amusement.
"Come on, save her. You’re probably the only one who can do it now. That kid’s really pitiful—please?"
"Look, I already told you—I don’t even know her. You guys do, but I don’t. Isn’t it a bit much to ask me to get involved?"
Steven stared at the girl who was practically glued to his leg, refusing to let go.
For a moment, he didn’t even know where to begin roasting her.
Like, could she at least try to maintain her dignified vampire lady image?
She had white hair, red eyes, and was a natural counter to a certain group of people, yet here she was—pulling at his pant leg like some street beggar.
But—Steven wasn’t soft-hearted enough to agree just because of this.
Her desperation alone wasn’t enough to make him take on this trouble.
Sure, he was curious about what happened to Originium-infected people before they died, but that didn’t mean he was willing to expose his ability to completely cure Oripathy for it.
If there was one thing the world wasn’t lacking, it was infected people dying from Oripathy.
"I’ll pay you. I’ll do a lot of useful things for you. Just show some kindness and save her, okay?"
With pleading eyes, Warfarin tugged at his pants again.
She was one step away from rubbing snot and tears all over him.
"Nope. Not enough. Still a bad deal for me."
Steven shook his head again.
Money? Didn’t need it.
Compassion? He wasn’t against it, but too much of it was a liability.
If he went soft too often, he could kiss his stress-free life goodbye.
And Steven had no intention of losing his entertainment-focused lifestyle.
Seeing his firm refusal, Warfarin gritted her teeth and quickly ran over to Kal’tsit.
She leaned in and whispered something in her ear.
Kal’tsit’s expression shifted.
First shock, then confusion, then...
A look of complex emotions that even Steven couldn’t quite decipher.
Finally, as if some deal had been made, Kal’tsit sighed and stepped toward Steven.
"If you can prevent the patient’s condition from worsening… I’ll let you borrow Mon3tr for research—for half a day."
Almost as if it had been summoned, Mon3tr peeked its bizarre head out from behind Kal’tsit.
Its twisted face was practically covered in question marks.
If it could talk, it’d probably be said—
"What the hell, bro? Your preferences are seriously messed up."
But—this was exactly what Steven had been waiting for.
With zero hesitation, he gave Kal’tsit a thumbs-up.
His expression instantly switched to one of enthusiasm.
"Why didn’t you say so earlier? I would've agreed immediately!"
"Then it’s a deal, there would be no take-backs."
Chapter 76: Chapter 76: SlashBlade Mod and Yamato
Chapter Text
Chapter 76: SlashBlade Mod and Yamato
Before his words had even fully settled, Steven hurried forward toward the frozen-solid door, as if worried Kal’tsit might change her mind.
Lowering his gaze, he inspected the door—completely sealed in thick ice, clearly not something that could be opened normally.
Glancing sideways, he caught Kal’tsit and the others watching him expectantly, curiosity flashing in their eyes.
Without hesitation, Steven reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wooden cube-like object, which he casually pressed against the wall near the door.
With a light press of a button, the previously immovable, ice-covered door suddenly creaked open on its own, as if some mysterious force had compelled it.
His actions left Kal’tsit and the others stunned once again.
They had assumed he would use his signature brute strength to smash the door down. But—what was this?!
There wasn’t a single trace of Originium energy fluctuations—nothing to indicate the use of any arts.
He literally just pressed a button, and the frozen-shut door opened itself?!
What kind of paranormal phenomenon was this?
But Steven had no time to explain himself.
With buttons and pressure plates at his disposal, he had never really needed to learn how doors were supposed to be opened.
Not every problem needed violence to be solved. If there was a quicker, easier way, why wouldn’t he use it?
Stepping into the now-open room, Steven nonchalantly closed the door behind him.
Some things shouldn’t be seen by the operators of Rhodes Island.
Knowing their overreactive tendencies, he had no doubt they’d drag him into even more trouble if they witnessed this.
However, the moment he took in the scene before him, Steven realized that this situation wasn’t as simple as he had originally thought.
No—this had already gone far beyond what he had agreed to deal with.
On the bed lay a white-haired girl, dressed in a black trench coat with red accents.
Ice spread outward from beneath her body, turning the entire room into a frozen, snow-white wasteland.
But that wasn’t the real problem.
Her once smooth, pale skin was now marred with yellow-black crystalline Originium growths, flickering ominously.
The unstable glow instantly reminded Steven of those Originium creatures he had encountered before—right before they exploded.
But even that wasn’t the biggest issue.
Her scarlet eyes, once sharp, now appeared hazy and unfocused, nearly lifeless.
She was seconds away from stopping breathing altogether.
She wasn’t just in a critical condition—she was at death's doorstep.
"Shit, she’s about to meet Charon."
This was no time for playful jokes.
Steven dashed forward in an instant, stopping at the girl’s bedside.
Without hesitation, he pulled out a small glass bottle of pink healing potion, forced her mouth open, and—rather roughly—poured it down her throat.
This wasn’t a golden apple—he didn’t need to chew it up for her first.
But with her condition so dire, even swallowing seemed impossible.
The potion trickled out of the corners of her mouth, barely getting anywhere.
"This won’t do," he muttered.
Without a second thought, Steven clamped his hand over her mouth, forcing her to swallow so that none of the medicine would go to waste.
Only after ensuring that she had taken in enough did he finally—somewhat regretfully—retrieve the remaining potion.
Gradually, the lifeless haze in the girl's red eyes began to clear.
Her once dull pupils slowly refocused, regaining a faint spark of consciousness.
Steven let out a small sigh.
"Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to go outside and tell Kal’tsit to up my payment."
"Nobody told me she was literally one second away from dying when I signed up for this."
Steven was a split second away from turning a healing session into a funeral procession.
Honestly, his timing couldn't have been better—if he’d arrived even a moment later, he would have been staring at a corpse instead.
And that? That would have been way more troublesome, even for him.
Especially if Rhodes Island decided to start some ridiculous medical malpractice drama over it—that would be a pain to deal with.
Still, even though the girl had technically been pulled back from the brink of death, her situation was still far from stable.
Healing potions were only good for keeping someone alive—they didn’t stop active Originium infection from continuing its destruction.
But this… was perfect.
Because it gave Steven the perfect opportunity to test out something he had been meaning to try.
Reaching into his pocket once more, he pulled out another bottle of the same healing potion.
This time, however, he didn’t force her to swallow it right away.
Instead, he held the bottle’s opening near her lips, watching as she slowly regained a weak, shallow breath.
“If you wanna live, don’t ask questions,” he instructed, his voice firm.
“Just keep it in your mouth. If you feel like you’re about to pass out, swallow it.”
The girl, still dazed and weak, blinked at him in confusion.
Steven lightly patted her soft, porcelain-like cheek, helping her regain focus.
Thankfully, her survival instincts hadn’t completely faded—despite the pain and disorientation in her eyes, she nodded slightly in understanding.
Only once he saw her comply did Steven straighten up and reach toward his waist.
With no visible movement, a black-bladed katana suddenly materialized in his hand.
Its white hilt was adorned with golden infinity symbols, and its hexagonal tsuba bore the intricate engraving of a golden eastern dragon.
The jet-black scabbard was wrapped with two pale-yellow silk ribbons, and even though the blade remained sheathed, its very presence seemed to distort the air around it, as if ready to slice through reality itself.
Trying to extract Originium from a living body was no easy feat.
His usual [Netherite Sword] was completely unsuitable for such delicate precision work.
Fortunately for him, after unlocking Equivalent Exchange mod, he had also acquired a new weapon mod—one that was perfectly suited for showing off.
The SlashBlade Mod.
Anyone that is familiar with the said mod would realize by now that the weapon in his hands is the sword that Vergil used, “Yamato"
A name overflowing with arrogance—but well deserved.
As the strongest katana in the SlashBlade Mod, [Yamato] had more than earned its reputation.
And for some reason—perhaps due to the unique properties of this world—Steven could faintly sense that this version of [Yamato] possessed some of the original’s abilities as well.
Holding the scabbard in one hand and gripping the hilt in the other, Steven glanced down at the motionless girl.
“This is gonna hurt,” he warned.
“Just bear with it.”
Before his words even fully reached her ears, Steven had already disappeared.
A blur of motion.
A flash of steel.
And just like that, Steven had moved from her front… to her back.
He ignored the strange SSS-rank evaluation flashing in the upper-right corner of his vision, casually sliding [Yamato] back into its scabbard as if he had only drawn it halfway.
With a sharp, clear click, the blade was sheathed.
And only then—delayed by mere seconds—did the Originium embedded in the girl’s flesh react.
With a sickening crack, the corrupted crystals fell from her body, still slick with blood and torn flesh.
Her lips parted, a cry of agony welling in her throat—
Only for Steven to clamp his hand over her mouth, silencing her scream before it could even begin.
At the same time, the potion still in her mouth slipped down her throat, its healing effects activating immediately.
But the pain was far from over.
Steven reached behind him, pulling out a massive container filled with a thick, white liquid—
The moment the girl saw it, her pupils shrank in horror.
A soft, pitiful whimper escaped her throat.
She would almost rather be dead.
Chapter 77: Chapter 77: I Suggest You See a Doctor
Chapter Text
Chapter 77: I Suggest You See a Doctor
From forcing the girl to drink the potion, to cutting out every active Originium crystal in her body, to making her chug several mouthfuls of milk—which ultimately led to her passing out from the pain—the entire process took less than three minutes.
After all, Steven wasn’t the type to drag things out when handling serious business.
Messing around? That could wait.
But when it was time to get things done? He made sure to get things done.
That said, having a conversation with a girl who had just fainted due to milk-induced purification pain was obviously not an option.
At the very least, though, she seemed to be out of immediate danger.
Every visible Originium crystal had been completely removed, and the fresh regenerated skin, thanks to the healing potion, looked smooth and unblemished—far better than the grotesque crystallized state she was in before.
Of course, this also meant that Steven had seen everything—both the things meant to be seen and the things that weren’t.
But really, what choice did he have?
He had to examine her properly while performing the operation.
What if he accidentally cut into an unaffected area?
Steven maintained a purely academic mindset about it.
Medicine was a scholarly pursuit.
A noble profession.
There was no room for biased perspectives or indecent thoughts in his work.
Satisfied with his first-ever "surgical operation," Steven casually pulled a nearby blanket over the unconscious girl, covering her up.
He had no idea how much internal Oripathy still remained in her body.
But at least for now, she wasn’t dying anymore—which was a success in his book.
Her full recovery was something that would have to happen over time.
As for whether he could completely cure her Originium disease—
Well, he could, but doing so would expose too much.
And exposing too much would only lead to troublesome consequences.
[Ding! You have rescued the story character Frostleaf. World Acknowledgement Point +10,000.]
Not a bad reward, but compared to the millions of points Steven had already spent, 10k was basically pocket change.
Still, this at least confirmed that this girl was an important character in the story.
No wonder she had white hair, red eyes, and an attractive appearance.
Speaking of which, wasn’t Rhodes Island filled with white-haired, red-eyed people?
After making sure the girl was stable, Steven picked up [Yamato] and opened the ice-sealed door, stepping out of the freezer-like room.
“Whew~ it’s all done. You guys can handle the cleanup. She should be fine for now,” Steven said, exhaling a white puff of air in the freezing temperature.
Without saying a word, Warfarin immediately rushed past him, heading straight into the room to check on the unconscious girl’s condition.
Meanwhile, Kal’tsit eyed Steven suspiciously, her gaze scanning him from head to toe before ultimately settling on the katana in his hand.
She had seen many Eastern-style blades in her time.
But a sword like this one, wrapped in a sinister aura, filled with countless wailing souls—
That was something she had never even heard of before.
How many lives had to be slaughtered with that blade to create such a tangible aura of terror?
And what kind of experiences had Steven himself been through to wield it so naturally?
Just imagining it sent a chill down Kal'tsit’s spine.
"That sword of yours—"
"Don't ask."
Before the green cat could even finish, Steven cut her off.
“I did what I was supposed to do. Now, when are you going to hold up your end of the deal?”
His gaze never left the strange crystal-like head peeking out from behind Kal'tsit.
Mon3tr.
The curiosity in Steven’s eyes was so intense that even Mon3tr itself felt a twinge of fear and immediately recoiled back into Kal’tsit’s body.
"You need it now?"
Kal'tsit truly couldn’t understand why Steven was so fixated on her Mon3tr.
If he had lusted after her body, that would’ve at least been somewhat reasonable.
But lusting after Mon3tr?
She could only suggest that Steven go see a doctor.
—Wait.
Wasn’t she a doctor?
"Not necessarily. Why don’t you send it to my room tonight instead? Relax, I won’t do anything too excessive to your little pet."
Steven’s words should have been reassuring—
But that smile on his face...
It did nothing to put Kal'tsit at ease.
Before she could say anything else, Warfarin finally finished examining the unconscious girl and handed her over to the other medical operators to be transferred to another ward.
Then, she turned to look at Steven—
As if staring at a monster.
She knew that girl’s exact condition better than anyone.
That was precisely why she looked so shocked.
A body that should have been devastated by Oripathy had completely recovered.
If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought the girl had only just contracted the disease.
It was hard to believe that just minutes ago, she had been on the verge of exploding into an Originium bomb.
“I don’t know how you did it…” Warfarin finally said, her voice filled with sincerity.
“But right now, all I want to do is thank you. Thank you for saving her.”
Unlike Kal’tsit, she didn’t question how Steven had managed it.
She simply bowed, offering him a deep and genuine expression of gratitude.
She knew that if Steven hadn’t stepped in, the only thing she would have been able to do…
Was collect the girl’s corpse.
“It was just a trade. Not too bad of a deal, honestly.”
Steven waved a hand dismissively.
At first, he had felt a little stingy about using so many healing potions—
But hey, he got some points out of it.
Not a total loss.
Actually, if he thought about it, he might have even profited a little.
"Well, I'll leave the rest to you guys."
Steven stretched lazily.
“So this was the big emergency? Tch. I was expecting something more exciting.”
He yawned and stored [Yamato] Blade back into his inventory, ready to walk away.
He hidn’t get to see anything particularly interesting, but at least he earned some points.
Not a bad morning, all things considered.
Now that this was over, it was time to check on his so-called 'daughter'.
After all, the only reason he even came here was to treat Gladiia.
Once that was done, Steven figured it would be about time to leave.
The main storyline clearly hadn’t started yet, and staying here would only mean getting nagged to death by Kal’tsit.
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Chapter 78: Chapter 78: Who Are You Calling Uncle?
Chapter Text
Chapter 78: Who Are You Calling Uncle?
Neither Kal'tsit nor Warfarin had any intention of stopping Steven from leaving.
They both understood all too well—
It was already lucky enough that he even bothered to help.
If they kept pressuring him with questions, it would only leave a bad impression.
"Did you see that sword in his hands just now?"
Kal'tsit exchanged a glance with Warfarin, her gaze full of wariness as she watched Steven’s figure fade into the distance.
If that weapon’s wielder had been anyone else but Steven, she wouldn’t have been able to resist ordering Rhodes Island’s elite operators to subdue him on the spot.
"I know what you’re thinking." Warfarin sighed.
"That weapon is far more sinister than anything I’ve ever seen before… It's like…"
Her voice trailed off for a moment before she continued:
"Like something that shouldn’t even exist in this world."
Warfarin understood.
Kal'tsit wasn’t just talking about Steven’s sword.
Everything about Steven himself felt like something unnatural—
Like something that shouldn’t belong to this land.
"But at the same time," Warfarin murmured, "he's also a wildcard."
"If we want to change this world…"
"Perhaps only someone like him—an anomaly—could make that happen."
Kal'tsit sighed silently.
Steven’s strength and mystery were obvious, but so was his complete lack of concern for anything.
He could be the key to change.
But if they couldn't handle him correctly, he could just as easily become a force of destruction.
"I think..." Kal'tsit muttered, staring into the distance.
"He might not even know what he wants yet."
"Maybe he just hasn't found anything he truly cares about."
"If he ever does…"
"Then perhaps he wouldn’t be the way he is now."
Warfarin nodded in agreement.
She had no idea what shaped Steven into the person he was now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t change.
"So..." Warfarin suddenly smirked.
"Do you think we could have someone seduce him and tie him to Rhodes Island that way?"
Now that Frostleaf's condition had improved, Warfarin's mood had lightened considerably.
Since ancient times, even heroes have fallen to beauty.
Perhaps someone like Steven could only be controlled by the softer tactics of emotional appeal.
"Heh."
Kal'tsit scoffed coldly.
"And who exactly are you planning to send?"
"You didn’t notice?"
"That guy looks at every female operator with less interest than he looks at Mon3tr."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you saying we should send it instead?"
Warfarin: "..."
Yeah.
That wouldn’t work.
Steven was just built different.
Meanwhile, Steven himself had no idea that after leaving, he had already been branded as a lunatic by two of Rhodes Island’s top medical professionals.
Walking towards Gladiia’s hospital room, he suddenly sneezed.
"Ah-choo!"
“…Who’s secretly praising my handsomeness behind my back?”
Rubbing his nose, he muttered under his breath before shaking it off.
At the moment, he was far more interested in his sword.
After testing out his Iai techniques, Steven was quite satisfied.
Unlike in Minecraft, where he could only swing horizontally or slash with his skills, there are no restrictions here.
That freedom seemed to have awakened something new in his blade.
The only downside?
Steven didn’t have enough EMC points to exchange for another katana yet.
But for now, [Yamato]—with tens of thousands of souls and hundreds of reforges—should be more than enough for this world.
At the very least, it was great for cutting things.
Especially large hordes of enemies.
Now, he wouldn’t have to rely solely on brute force anymore.
Still, he couldn't help but grumble to himself:
"Shame the first thing I used it for wasn’t a battle…"
"But a damn surgery."
Using a legendary cursed blade as a scalpel?
"What a waste of good craftsmanship."
Steven sighed.
He’d much rather test it out on some actual monsters soon.
It’s [Yamato], after all. how could he not recreate that classic “I-am-the-storm-that-is-approaching” scene?
If he had time later, he’d ask Kal'tsit if there were any monsters nearby worthy of testing his sword on.
Lost in his scattered thoughts, Steven soon arrived at Gladiia’s hospital room.
But before he could even push the door open—
BAM! BANG! CLANG!
Loud crashing and scuffling noises erupted from inside.
"...Wait, aren’t these all patients? Why are they fighting?!"
Feeling completely confused, Steven opened the door—
And instantly had to dodge a flying girl that was sent hurtling straight toward him.
"Huh?!"
On reflex, he reached out and caught her midair.
Because he wasn’t wearing a hat, it was difficult for him to distinguish these three Abyssal Hunters just by looking at them.
However, the way the girl wrapped her arms around his neck so naturally and enthusiastically immediately told him who she was.
After all, who else but his "daughter" would be this affectionate?
"Uncle!"
But before Steven could even react, the girl in his arms blurted out a word that made him realize that he had been far too naive.
His gaze shifted to the side, where he locked eyes with another girl—
A certain Aegirian, whose hospital gown was already half undone from fighting.
Her eyes were filled with the sorrow of a child who had been abandoned.
In other words, that was the real Gladiia.
Steven then turned his attention back to the girl in his arms, whose name tag read "Specter".
"..."
With a helpless smile, he sighed.
What was with these Abyssal Hunters? Did they all enjoy playing the role of juniors? Or does he just have some kind of built-in 'senior aura'?
“What’s wrong with her?!"
Steven turned to Skadi, the only one who seemed at least semi-normal, and asked:
"Did I hit her too hard last time? Did I break her brain?"
Still clinging tightly to him, Specter showed no intention of letting go.
Meanwhile, Skadi tilted her head, thought for a moment, and then—
Gave him the most standard answer possible:
"I don’t know."
Steven: "..."
Never mind.
He took it back.
She wasn’t exactly normal either.
At least not completely.
"Miss, don’t you think I’m a bit too young to be called 'Uncle'?"
Steven wasn't embarrassed at all as he pointed out the obvious, since unlike Gladiia, Specter wasn’t suffering from memory loss.
Her speech was clear, her eyes sharp and bright.
She was definitely not mentally regressed into a child.
But in response, Specter just tightened her grip and smiled.
"You’re the father of the Swordfish."
"That naturally makes you my uncle."
"Also…"
"What you gave me yesterday helped me immensely."
"I should properly express my gratitude."
Though this was only her second meeting with him, Specter felt an inexplicable fondness for Steven.
As for why?
Perhaps it was because of the lingering scent of blood on him—
A scent that, although she couldn't recall whose it was, still filled her with an overwhelming killing intent whenever she thought about it.
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Chapter 79: Chapter 79: If Fighting Can Cure Illness, Then Let’s Try It
Chapter Text
Chapter 79: If Fighting Can Cure Illness, Then Let’s Try It
"I accept your gratitude, but don’t you think you’re expressing it in the wrong way?"
Steven’s mouth twitched slightly.
Sure, in a certain sense, this could be considered a reward—having a soft, warm, fragrant girl in his arms wasn’t a bad experience.
Specter’s body was incredibly light and delicate, almost boneless in his embrace.
But still. if he actually said that out loud, it would definitely be misunderstood.
"Then... should I be the one holding you instead?"
Finally loosening her grip, Specter tilted her head and offered a suggestion in an innocent and curious tone.
Steven: "..."
Like hell that’s happening.
Having a girl carry him like that?
Unless they were in bed, he had too much self-respect to let something so humiliating happen.
Without bothering to answer her meaningless question, Steven simply walked toward Gladiia, who still seemed to be sulking at him.
Reaching out, he gently ran his fingers through her silky, white hair, which was as smooth as satin.
"Do you remember anything yet?"
For once, Steven actually sounded serious.
Even though he constantly claimed that he had no one he truly cared about, moments like these always exposed the truth—
Because when someone trusted you unconditionally and genuinely saw you as family, it was impossible to just ignore that feeling.
Steven didn’t want to abandon his humanity.
He simply wanted to live freely and do as he pleased.
But when it came to Gladiia’s condition, he had to admit that he was a little conflicted.
After all, if she ever regained her memories, their current bond would likely come to an end.
Just as he expected, Gladiia simply nuzzled into his palm before shaking her head with a clueless expression.
It was obvious she had no idea what he was talking about.
Steven sighed.
Then, turning toward Skadi, he asked—
"You haven’t told her anything about her past?"
Skadi, who had been standing off to the side like a block of wood, simply blinked at him.
She already looked a little slow, but did she really have to be this dense too?
"Tell her what? I wasn’t in the same company as Captain Gladiia."
"At most, we just knew each other."
"Her direct subordinate was Shark, but..."
Skadi pointed at Specter, who immediately responded with a bright, cheerful smile.
The kind of smile that clearly lacked any deep thought behind it.
"She seems normal now."
"But when she starts singing..."
"Her mind gets even more messed up."
Skadi’s voice carried an exhausted helplessness—
Steven could clearly see the tired resignation in her eyes.
It seemed she had already suffered quite a bit.
Well, yeah.
Taking care of a memory-wiped kid was one thing.
Dealing with a memory-wiped lunatic?
That was a whole different kind of nightmare.
"So, uh... why exactly were you guys fighting when I walked in?"
Steven was completely confused.
Wasn’t memory recovery supposed to be done through therapy and talking?
How did it turn into a demolition battle?
"The only thing I can help them recall is their combat skills."
Skadi sighed, glancing at her own hospital gown, which had been completely ruined from their scuffle.
"But from the looks of it, they don’t need any reminders."
"Their fighting techniques have already become pure instinct."
"Wait, they both lost their memories—fine, whatever—but why are they still this strong?"
Steven scratched his head, suddenly realizing just how absurd these Abyssal Hunters were.
To them, combat wasn’t just a skill—it was instinct, carved into their very being.
Were they actually biological weapons or something?
"Huh, I thought this was just a unique way you deep-sea folks communicate."
"Turns out it's actually a form of treatment?"
Steven muttered to himself.
If fighting really had a chance to restore their memories, then maybe he should try it too?
"How about I fight you guys?"
"If I put enough pressure on you, maybe the survival instinct will kick in."
"Isn't there a theory that extreme crisis can awaken lost memories?"
Clenching his fist, Steven made his proposal.
It wasn’t like he had anything better to do right now.
Plus, scaring them a little might actually work.
"Huh? I can fight Uncle?!"
"Yes! Yes! I can’t wait to feel the thrill of tearing someone apart—or getting torn apart myself!"
The moment Specter heard she could fight Steven, her eyes sparkled with excitement.
It seemed she still retained some vague memories of her rampage yesterday.
Though... her wording definitely sounded insane.
On the other hand, Gladiia, who had just finished throwing Specter across the room, simply shook her head.
Her expression was serious.
"We can’t beat Dad."
This had nothing to do with Steven’s relationship with them.
In her memory-wiped state, Gladiia relied entirely on instinct—
And that instinct told her very clearly—
Even if all three of them fought together, they wouldn't stand a chance.
She had seen Steven fight before.
And that sight had been burned into her soul.
"Still, we should at least try, right?"
"It’s not about winning—it’s about seeing if you can recall something in a crisis."
Steven smiled as he took his position opposite them.
Of course, that wasn’t his only reason.
More than anything, he was simply curious.
Just how strong were these so-called "monstrous" Abyssal Hunters that Kal’tsit spoke so highly of?
Taking Gladiia’s spear out of his inventory, he casually tossed it back to her.
"Don’t hold back. Come at me together."
"You’re supposed to fight as a team, right?"
"You should be good at coordinating your attacks."
After thinking for a moment, Steven decided not to use [Yamato] or his [Netherite Sword].
Instead, he simply equipped his enchanted [Netherite Armor], then raised his hand and gestured for them to attack.
That was when Skadi felt it.
The instant Steven raised his fist, his entire presence shifted.
That casual, carefree aura disappeared—
In its place was something deep, oppressive, and primal.
Like a beast lurking in the abyss.
Like an ancient nightmare surfacing once more.
A pressure so immense that Skadi couldn’t even lift her head.
The sheer hostility and killing intent radiating from Steven was so dense, it felt almost tangible.
Her instincts screamed at her, forcing her to grip her sword tightly.
Her temples throbbed violently—
Something that only happened when facing an overwhelming threat.
But wait—wasn’t he supposed to be testing the memory-wiped ones?!
Why the hell was he targeting her too?!
Skadi’s expression stiffened.
Was this guy actually serious?
Of course, Gladiia and Specter weren’t doing much better.
The moment Steven released that monstrous pressure, their bodies reacted instinctively.
Almost simultaneously, they tightened their grip on their weapons, their expressions grim and focused.
And just like that, the hunt had begun.
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Chapter 80: Chapter 80: Playing Favorites, Huh?
Chapter Text
Chapter 80: Playing Favorites, Huh?
“Here I come.”
The moment Steven’s low, serious voice rang out, Skadi barely had time to react.
In that instant, the figure clad in purple-black armor exploded forward with blinding speed—
A speed that completely contradicted the bulkiness of his armor.
Accompanied by a lingering afterimage, he charged straight for them.
This... doesn’t feel like a simple test.
The sheer killing intent radiating from Steven was nothing like what he had claimed.
This wasn’t a sparring session, it was as if he had simply found an excuse to slaughter them.
With no time to think, Skadi instinctively drew her black longsword, raising it in defense.
But before she could make another move—
BOOM!
A devastating force, like being struck by a cannonball, slammed into her blade.
Her legs buckled instantly, unable to absorb the sheer impact.
And in the blink of an eye, her body was sent flying backward, completely out of her control.
One hit.
One single hit.
Despite being fully prepared, Skadi was blasted away just like that.
But Steven had no intention of stopping.
Without saying another word, he simply retracted his fist, then his purple-black silhouette blurred once more.
His next target—Specter.
She had already braced herself, but Steven’s movements were so fast that it was almost as if he had teleported right in front of her.
Just as he was about to send her flying with another devastating punch, yhe space around him suddenly warped.
A strange, powerful force pulled at him, as if an invisible vortex had materialized out of nowhere.
The source—
Gladiia.
She’s awake.
The moment Steven turned his gaze toward her, he saw it—
The confusion was gone.
In its place, her scarlet eyes shone with a sharp, wary focus—
Her combat instincts had fully awakened.
And at the center of the vortex is her strange trident-like spear, held high above her head.
“An Originium Art?”
Or was this some kind of special Abyssal Hunter ability?
Steven hesitated for just a fraction of a second, and in that moment, the sound of a chainsaw roared to life.
A ferocious, ear-splitting noise that threatened to rip everything apart.
That split-second delay was all Specter needed.
With unnatural speed, she adjusted her stance and somehow from out of nowhere pulled out a massive weapon, a bizarre fusion of a polearm and a chainsaw.
Effortlessly wielding what was clearly a heavy weapon as though it were a flimsy plastic toy, Specter grinned with a hint of bloodlust and swung the weapon at Steven without hesitation.
She’s even faster than Skadi.
By the time Steven heard the chainsaw, it was already crashing down on his shoulder.
CLANG!
A deafening metallic screech filled the air.
Sparks exploded outward, scattering like a miniature industrial meltdown.
The sheer ferocity of the strike, the chaotic whirl of metal and flame—
It was hard to believe this was still just a test.
And yet, despite everything, Specter’s grin abruptly froze.
Not because her attack failed to pierce his armor.
But because even though it should’ve landed cleanly, Steven had already blocked it.
Steven’s gloved hand gripped the very tip of the chainsaw.
That brutal weapon, which should have torn through his armor with ease, barely managed to make contact, only the very tip had actually touched him.
No matter how much force Specter applied, no matter how hard she tried to press down, the chainsaw simply wouldn’t budge.
It was as if it had been frozen solid, locked in place by an unstoppable force.
What kind of monstrous strength is this?!
The thought had barely surfaced in Specter’s mind when she let go of her weapon without the slightest hesitation.
Sure enough, the moment she released it, a tremendous force jerked the chainsaw away.
Had she held on any longer, she would have been dragged straight into Steven’s strike range.
Steven seized the weapon in one hand, then casually tossed it aside.
The next moment, with a sudden burst of power, he broke free from Gladiia’s gravitational pull, and, like a ravenous beast, lunged at the nearest target—
Specter.
The air cracked from the sheer speed of his movement.
Specter barely had time to register what had happened before she found herself completely engulfed by his towering shadow.
Dodging is impossible.
Weaponless, Specter could only watch as Steven’s hand shot toward her throat—
Until—
CLANG!
A black longsword slammed into his wrist, halting his attack.
The one who threw it?
None other than Skadi, the Abyssal Hunter with the strange blue triangular hat, the very same one who had been blown away at the start of the fight.
She didn’t expect this strike to actually injure him.
All she needed to do was stall for time long enough to grab Specter and help her regain her footing.
“You said this was just a test! Are you trying to kill—”
Before she could finish her sentence, a roaring shockwave slammed into her like a missile.
It’s moving too fast.
Faster than before.
Skadi didn’t even have time to raise her sword.
In the next instant, she was lifted clean off the ground.
At the same time, Specter wasn’t faring any better.
Steven grabbed them both by the throat, effortlessly hoisting them into the air.
They struggled, but his grip was like iron, simply Impossible to break.
Just as Skadi thought that this might be the end—
A familiar black spear suddenly sliced through the air, aimed directly at Steven’s neck.
CLANG!
Metal clashed against metal, the force jarring Steven’s entire body for a split second.
Without hesitation, he hurled both Skadi and Specter away.
As he spun around, his fist lashed out toward the one who attacked him.
Skadi, still mid-air, winced and shut her eyes.
She didn’t want to watch what was about to happen.
If that punch connects...
Even the second Company Captain wouldn’t be able to walk away unscathed.
But then—
Silence.
No sound of bone shattering.
No impact of fist against flesh.
When Skadi and Specter crashed against the hospital room wall, they finally opened their eyes. only to see Steven’s fist hovering just above Gladiia’s head.
Instead of crushing her skull, his punch had softened into a light tap, no more than a playful chop against her head.
“So?”
His usual teasing voice drifted from beneath the purple-black helmet.
“Did that jog your memory?”
As he removed his helmet, his expression was relaxed.
Like someone who had just finished a casual warm-up.
Skadi stared in disbelief.
Not only had he held back, but he had only gone easy on Gladiia?
What the hell?!
Just because she called him "Dad", he was playing favorites now?!
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Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Suddenly, It Didn’t Seem So Bad
Chapter Text
Chapter 81: Suddenly, It Didn’t Seem So Bad
As Steven removed his helmet and armor, it marked the official end of this one-sided battle.
At this moment, Skadi truly understood just how terrifying his strength was.
Even with the three of them fighting together, they barely lasted more than a few moves.
This was beyond absurd.
Even the terrifying Seaborn creatures lurking in the depths weren't this ridiculous.
At least those things didn’t look remotely human, which meant she could rationalize their overwhelming power as something that simply came with being monsters.
But Steven?
How could this frail land-dweller, with his scrawny arms and legs that looked like they could be blown away by a gust of wind, achieve such overwhelming power?
The only thing Skadi could feel was an endless sense of confusion.
For Specter, however. it was simple.
Compared to her, Specter was much more straightforward. She hummed an unfamiliar tune as she picked up the chainsaw Steven had casually discarded, looking as though she’d just enjoyed a fun game.
Fighting against a powerful opponent gave her a thrill—
It drowned out the painful memories in her mind, if only for a brief moment.
Another surprise.
Another gift that Steven had unknowingly given her.
But if anyone was the most bewildered by the fight, it was undoubtedly Gladiia.
When Steven’s fist had been about to hit her head, the sheer pressure and sense of impending doom triggered something deep within her mind.
A memory she didn’t recognize.
In it, there was a creature that is something like Steven, yet completely different.
It lurked within the abyss, surrounded by horrors beyond comprehension.
Her companions, those like her, fell one by one.
They all are helpless.
Defenseless.
And all she could do was watch in despair.
Then, everything faded to gray.
The scene froze on the moment she locked eyes with that monstrous being.
Until—
Tap
A light chop on her head.
Steven’s fist had transformed into a harmless chop at the last moment.
And just like that, Gladiia was ripped away from her nightmare.
“Hmm?”
Steven watched as confusion and pain flickered across her usually calm face.
This wasn’t the usual expression his "daughter" would make.
Clearly, the fight had helped her recover some memories.
But unfortunately, it had also forced him to hold back too much.
How annoying.
Steven was actually impressed by their teamwork.
Their coordination and adaptability in battle were excellent, it’s far superior to his own brute-force style of simply overwhelming opponents with raw power and speed.
But, at the end of the day, technique has limits.
And against Steven. it just wasn’t enough.
His goal was never to simply defeat them.
He wanted to push them into danger, to awaken their instincts and memories.
So, of course he wasn’t going to just throw the fight and let them win.
Still, Gladiia’s moment of despair and sorrow had only lasted for a second before vanishing once again, replaced by her usual clear-eyed ignorance.
With a silent shake of her head, she lowered her gaze.
She clearly wasn’t in the best mood.
“Hey, don’t worry about it.”
Steven ruffled her soft, snow-white hair with a grin.
“One day, you’ll remember everything.”
“And even if you never do—”
“Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing either, huh?”
As if remembering something, Steven reached into his backpack and pulled out her old, strange-looking tricorn hat.
Gently, he placed it back on her head.
He never quite understood why these Abyssal Hunters were so obsessed with wearing those strange tricorn hats.
But at the very least, putting it back on her head meant he wouldn't mix them up again.
As he adjusted the hat, Steven felt that just for a split second, Gladiia's gaze changed.
For the briefest moment, her eyes seemed clear, as if her usual blankness had been wiped away.
But in the next instant, she hid it again.
Maybe it was just his imagination.
Or maybe, just maybe—
The hat actually meant something to her.
Either way, Steven meant what he said.
If she couldn’t remember, then so be it.
At this point, he was mentally prepared to accept this "adopted daughter" setup.
After all, he brought this upon himself.
Might as well go along with it.
“You’re right.”
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
Specter had quietly stepped between them, holding her chainsaw-like weapon as she spoke in an uncharacteristically cryptic tone:
“Not all memories are worth retrieving.”
“Pain, suffering, betrayal... Some things are better left forgotten.”
Her words carried an eerie weight, like Kal'tsit’s riddles, making them even harder to decipher.
Skadi, however, understood immediately.
This wasn’t normal Specter.
She was slipping into one of her episodes.
And sure enough, the next thing Steven saw was her... singing.
A soft, haunting melody echoed in the room—
『When she prays,
The stars cease to shine.
When she weeps,
The night unveils its smile.
When she laments,
Her agony spreads through her madness…』
…What the hell was she singing?
It wasn’t in any language he recognized,
Yet, he could understand every word.
Must be the language localization Mod.
Still, the meaning eluded him.
Maybe this was just one of those "crazy person things."
He wasn’t mentally ill, after all, so of course he couldn’t understand it.
Just like he couldn't understand why some people found joy in throwing rubber bands at windows.
But credit where it was due—
She sang well.
Really well.
Humming that strange tune, Specter pushed open the door and walked out.
Skadi, after a moment of hesitation, did not follow.
Instead, she turned back to Steven.
“So… are you going to keep doing this?”
“If fighting triggers their memories, maybe another round could bring everything back?”
She didn’t want to admit it,
But even Skadi could see that both Gladiia and Specter had remembered something today.
Maybe if they kept going, they could fully recover their lost past.
But to her surprise, Steven simply shook his head.
“No. I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“This is fine.”
“If they remember, they remember.”
“If they don’t… then they don’t.”
As he recalled the fleeting sorrow in Gladiia’s expression, Steven suddenly agreed with Specter.
Maybe forgetting wasn’t such a bad thing.
And as for this whole "adopted daughter" situation…
He could just leave her at Rhodes Island.
Plenty of Infected did the same thing with their families.
It wasn’t like it would bother him much.
Besides, having a cute, clingy daughter wasn’t exactly a bad thing, was it?
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Chapter 82: Chapter 82: The One I'm Looking For
Chapter Text
Chapter 82: The One I'm Looking For
Leaving the clearly unwell Gladiia in Skadi's care, Steven walked out of the medical room.
Considering how he had completely strayed from his initial plan of healing Gladiia and then making a swift escape, Steven could only smile helplessly.
But whatever—this wasn't the first time he'd acted on impulse. As long as it made him feel better, why not? No one could stop him anyway.
Besides, even with this decision, it didn’t seem to have any real impact on the current situation.
The main storyline hadn’t begun yet, and Steven felt he still had plenty of time to explore this world at his leisure. As for Gladiia, with her two companions around, he was confident that at least on Rhodes Island, she wouldn’t suffer any mistreatment.
Judging from their performance in battle, they might stand no chance against him, but against regular people? Steven was willing to acknowledge their strength.
The strong don’t have to worry about being bullied.
So as long as it didn’t interfere with his entertainment, there was no problem.
Having come to this conclusion, Steven returned to his usual idle, carefree demeanor, strolling leisurely toward the Trade Station.
It had been too late last night to visit, but he remembered Kal'tsit mentioning that he could pick up some Originium there for research.
Currently, Steven already had two types of Originium in his possession. One came from those strange fusion-like monsters he had first encountered, while the other was cut from the dying infected person just moments ago.
There were quite a few differences between the two, but Steven didn’t mind having more research samples.
The route from the infirmary to the Trade Station wasn’t far. Along the way, Steven saw many people with unusual physical features—some wore Rhodes Island uniforms with ID badges, while others were clad in thick hospital gowns, their bodies visibly bearing those strange, mineral-like Originium crystals.
This only reinforced Steven’s impression of Rhodes Island being filled with all sorts of inhuman oddities, as well as Kal'tsit's statement that many people in this land were afflicted by Oripathy.
But the more he realized this, the more Steven was unwilling to reveal that he could cure Oripathy.
Just thinking about it was terrifying—there were countless infected people in this land. If he had to heal them one by one, wouldn’t he work himself to death?
That said, Steven did gain a deeper respect for the Rhodes Island medics who tirelessly dedicated themselves to their work.
No matter what, these people deserved his respect. At the very least, they were doing something he wasn’t willing to do. Steven felt he had no right to criticize their actions.
With a complicated mix of emotions, he arrived at the Trade Station.
The first thing he saw was a black-haired girl, her face wearing a highly professional smile as she conversed with a Rhodes Island elite operator whom Steven found somewhat familiar.
That smile—he had seen it on every merchant’s face before. Not a single one was innocent.
It was the expression of a swindler waiting for a fool to take the bait.
"Blaze, you all know how serious things got yesterday. If I hadn't stepped in at the last moment to stop Kal'tsit, your whole elite operator mess would’ve been exposed. Do you even realize that, just to clean up after you guys, I was forced to tidy up this entire Trade Station?"
"So, Miss Closure, what exactly are you trying to say? We already paid for the drinks and the venue rental."
Hearing the conversation between the two, Steven's lips quickly curled into a smile, and he took the initiative to join in.
"I think Miss Closure’s meaning couldn't be clearer, right? She wants more money."
"The real question is, though—has Miss Closure also brought up this additional charge with Kal'tsit?"
Stealthily sneaking up like a ghost, Steven suddenly appeared beside the two and interrupted their whispered conversation with a grin.
Closure jumped up like a startled cat whose tail had been stepped on. Right now, she had full-blown PTSD from hearing Kal'tsit's name. After Kal'tsit had spoken with Steven yesterday, she had turned around and given Closure a thorough "lesson."
Her salary had been docked until next year—who could handle such injustice?
And it was all thanks to the boy standing before her.
If Kal'tsit hadn’t come looking for him yesterday, she wouldn’t have even had a reason to step into the Trade Station.
“Huh? Steve? What brings you here? You mean Kal’tsit didn’t chew you out yesterday?”
Compared to Closure’s reaction, Blaze’s was even more pronounced. After all, sneaking up on someone like Closure, a scatterbrained merchant, was one thing—but doing so to an elite combat operator like her? Even professional reconnaissance operators would have a hard time pulling that off.
Then again, now that she thought about it, Outcast had addressed him as Kal'tsit's "friend." Having this level of skill actually seemed pretty reasonable.
"Of course not. She wouldn’t dare reprimand me. But you, Miss Closure, I imagine you didn’t get off lightly, huh? And yet, here you are, still pulling the same tricks. Are you really that eager for me to report this to Kal'tsit?"
Steven turned to Closure, still smiling. The moment he arrived, he had already caught her extorting people. It looked like this wasn't her first time, either.
"Wait, no, hold on! I was just joking! Come on, you guys aren’t seriously taking me at my word, are you? We’re all friends here, right? Why even talk about money? And why drag Kal'tsit into this? You both know how much of a pain she is!"
Closure’s entire face fell, and she forced out a smile even uglier than crying.
"That said, Steve, right? What brings you here at this hour? If you’re looking for Blaze, then I’ll just be on my way."
Wanting nothing more than to escape this harbinger of misfortune, Closure came up with a random excuse and tried to flee.
But Steven wasn’t about to let her go. After all, he had come specifically to find her.
"Oh, don’t be like that. I really wasn’t looking for Blaze. Kal'tsit said that if I needed resources, I could come to you to pick them up. If you don’t believe me, feel free to go ask her yourself."
With one hand, Steven grabbed Closure by the back of her collar—just like picking up a kitten by the scruff of its neck—and placed her back in her original spot.
"Alright, then—I’m heading out. Rhodes Island will need to dock for resupply soon, and I’m in charge of security and patrols. Ursus isn’t as safe as Iberia, after all."
Seeing that she wasn’t needed here, Blaze briefly explained to Steven before stepping out of the Trade Station, leaving him alone with a now-hunched-over Closure, who looked as though she were about to be taken advantage of.
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Chapter 83: Chapter 83: You Should Have Said We Could Dig It Up!
Chapter Text
Chapter 83: You Should Have Said We Could Dig It Up!
"Don't act so pitiful. I'm not going to eat you, so why are you so afraid of me? You weren’t like this when you were extorting me before."
Steven looked at the black-haired girl clutching her chest with a pitiful expression. If he hadn’t seen her previous swindler-like behavior, he might have actually believed she was some harmless, innocent girl.
But now, he just wanted to compliment her acting skills.
"How can you call that extortion? That was just a fair trade! A mutually agreed transaction—how could you put it like that?"
Seeing that Steven had no intention of letting her off, Closure could only pout and look at him. Kal'tsit had already warned her that Steven would be coming to retrieve something. But precisely because of that, she was even more worried about what unreasonable demands this guy might make.
After all, Kal'tsit had told her that whatever Steven wanted, as long as Rhodes Island had it, they had to provide it to him—for free.
For free?!
After years of doing business, this was the first time she was getting taken advantage of like this. Normally, it was only when she was in a good mood that she’d give customers a small discount—just enough to lure them in for bigger deals later.
But someone taking things from her completely free of charge? Steven was definitely the first!
And that spendthrift Kal'tsit—did she even know the current state of Rhodes Island? Anyone who didn’t know better might think they were sitting on a mountain of wealth! Giving things away for free?
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, but there was nothing she could do to Kal'tsit. Clenching her small fists, she could only imagine sticking a few needles into a little voodoo doll of Kal'tsit.
Oh, and also this jinx of a boy standing in front of her.
"You really have no shame, do you? Let’s not talk about that for now. Anyway, I’m here to get some Originium for research. Kal'tsit should have already informed you about it, right?"
Steven stretched out his hand toward the girl without any hint of politeness.
Closure reluctantly nodded, then turned around and started rummaging through the towering pile of cardboard boxes behind her.
Before long, she pulled out a metal case that looked like a safe from the chaotic mess and handed it to Steven with a pained expression, as if she were giving away a piece of her own flesh.
Don't be fooled—this box contained only about 130 pieces of Originite Prime. But if she were to sell it, the price wouldn’t be anything less than 6.48 million LMD.
"Here. Be careful when using it. This stuff carries the risk of Originium infection."
Even though it hurt her soul, Closure still reminded Steven. This stuff was valuable, but at the same time, extremely dangerous. Although Originite Prime was far more stable than the Originium crystals found in infected individuals, it was still inherently contagious.
"Mm."
Steven responded absentmindedly as he opened the case and picked up a strange, polygonal, yellow-black mineral that resembled a piece of candy.
[Originite Prime] (Satiation Value: 1 drumstick)
He held it up to his eyes and examined it closely.
Other than looking a bit more transparent than unstable Originium, it didn’t seem all that different.
Steven scratched his head—so it’s basically the same thing, but with a different name… and it gives half a point more in satiation value?
"H-Hey! Are you even listening to me?! Directly touching Originium is extremely dangerous! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!"
Closure had no idea what Steven had been through before. In fact, Kal'tsit had done an excellent job keeping everything confidential. When it came down to it, only a handful of people even knew about Steven’s existence.
Even the rescue operation earlier that morning—Kal'tsit had merely brushed it off as a training exercise.
"It's fine. I'm in great health. A mere Originium crystal? It's nothing to worry about."
Steven waved his hand dismissively and casually stuffed the crystal into the portable transmutation table in his backpack.
To his surprise, while unstable Originium only provided EMC points equivalent to a gold ingot, this so-called Originite Prime was actually on par with a diamond in value.
So the purity of this stuff makes that much of a difference? He needed to find a way to acquire more of this.
"Are these also taken from the bodies of infected Originium patients after they die?"
He asked Closure with some curiosity.
As a merchant dealing in this stuff, she had to know where it came from.
The Originium shards Steven had collected before weren’t very pure, so he naturally assumed that Originite Prime might be some kind of refined product extracted from infected individuals.
"Hah? Where did you even get that idea?!"
Closure looked at him in shock.
"Originite Prime is directly mined from the ground and refined. It's one of the most important energy sources in Terra. It has nothing to do with the Originium that grows on infected people!"
Steven was surprised by her answer.
“Wait, so this stuff is actually just a mineral?”
He had always assumed Originium was more like some kind of parasitic fungal infection. But actual ore veins? That changed everything.
"Of course! The country we're in right now—Ursus—is one of the largest nations for refining and mining Originium. But even with their massive production, do you realize how rare the batch you’re holding is? That entire box you have there? It would take a fully operational mining site at least half a month to extract that much!"
Closure's face darkened as she emphasized the value of the Originium in Steven’s hands. The more she talked about how rare and expensive it was, the more painful it felt.
‘That was so much money right there.’
‘I should’ve hidden some away when I had the chance…’
‘He had no way of knowing exactly how much was in the box anyway.’
As Closure was caught in her own regrets, she failed to notice that Steven’s eyes were practically glowing at the revelation.
So it’s a mineable resource? That makes things way easier!
He had been wondering how to get a steady supply of Originite Prime for EMC farming, and now here was the answer—gift-wrapped and handed to him on a silver platter.
If it can be mined, then it's no problem at all.
No matter how difficult it was to extract, no matter how deep underground it was—for a Minecraft player, none of that mattered.
No resource in the world could be harder to obtain than Netherite.
Bedrock didn’t count.
"Guess this means I should start thinking about leaving Rhodes Island soon," he muttered to himself, already planning his next move.
Absent-mindedly, he grabbed a piece of Originite Prime from the box and popped it into his mouth.
With a crunch, he cracked open the outer layer, lost in thought about what to do next.
Hmm… it’s sweet.
And… kinda addicting.
A sudden wave of coolness rushed from his mouth straight to his brain, making him shudder involuntarily.
Oh. That’s… something.
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Chapter 84: Chapter 84: Are You Worried About Me?
Chapter Text
Chapter 84: Are You Worried About Me?
Although Steven had already decided to leave Rhodes Island, he didn’t immediately go to Kal'tsit to explain his decision.
In fact, he didn’t even know exactly where he was right now. Besides, there were still quite a few things he needed to take care of before leaving.
For the next few days, Steven genuinely lived a relaxing and carefree life.
If he wasn’t hiding away with some of the seasoned elite operators, drinking and playing cards, he was hanging out in the patient room of the three Abyssal Hunters, watching them argue and fight while taking the opportunity to pet his adopted daughter.
Time flew by quickly like this.
However, once those elite operators finally fully grasped the rules of Dou Dizhu and Mahjong, it became harder and harder for Steven to win money off them.
As for Skadi and her crew, they hadn’t changed much. Now that Steven wasn’t actively interfering in their fights, they were at least evenly matched.
The only exception was that Specter—every time a fight ended, she would turn to Steven and invite him to spar with her in an expectant tone, as if she was really looking forward to another round.
Of course, Steven never agreed.
Pointless things don’t become meaningful just because you repeat them.
The good thing was that, as time passed and their relationships grew closer, Gladiia had also become much more comfortable with them. Maybe before her memory loss, she had already been on good terms with them, so there weren’t any awkward barriers between them.
This reassured Steven.
If Skadi and Specter could take care of Gladiia, he wouldn’t have to worry about her as much.
After observing them for a few days, Steven found that, aside from Specter being a total lunatic, Skadi was actually pretty easy to read.
She wasn’t good with words, tended to space out, and had a very clumsy way of expressing her emotions and thoughts.
To sum it up—she’s a little slow.
But precisely because she was so straightforward, Steven trusted her more.
If everyone were as cunning and shrewd as Kal'tsit, he wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Gladiia in their care.
As for Kal'tsit and Warfarin, they have been busy lately.
Ever since Steven miraculously treated that infected girl, the effects of his healing had been so shocking that they had been studying her nonstop.
As a result, he hadn’t seen much of them in the past few days.
Well, aside from Warfarin trying to sneak into his room at night every now and then—only to be promptly picked up by the collar and thrown out the door.
Kal'tsit, on the other hand, stuck to their usual arrangement.
Every night, when she brought Mon3tr to Steven’s room, he would catch a brief glimpse of her.
But that was it.
She didn’t say anything cryptic or ask any tricky questions—a rare thing.
Meanwhile, Gavial, who had promised to be Steven’s research subject, insisted on dragging him along every day to examine Rhodes Island’s infected patients.
Even though Steven knew absolutely nothing about medicine, she would patiently explain everything to him, answering his endless questions.
Thanks to her, Steven finally learned to differentiate between the world’s major races—at least well enough to stop calling people things like “cat-girl” or “dog-girl.”
Of course, Steven wasn’t just listening.
Whenever Gavial was completely stumped by a particularly severe case, he would casually throw out some outrageous suggestions.
For example:
“If a patient's infection is too severe, why not just cut off the infected part and use healing art to regenerate it?”
To this, Gavial could only respond helplessly—
“You’re overestimating the healing art of this world. Originium Arts may be impressive, but they’re not miracles. We’re still a long way from being able to bring the dead back to life or regrow limbs out of thin air.”
Hearing this, Steven started feeling that this so-called Originium Arts… wasn’t as amazing as he had imagined.
In short, the past few days had been quite comfortable for Steven. But at his core, he was not someone who could just settle down and live a peaceful life.
And so, on another bright and sunny day, after spending half the night tinkering with Mon3tr, Steven returned the creature to Kal'tsit—and finally voiced his decision.
"I think it’s about time for me to leave."
Watching Mon3tr swiftly retreat behind Kal'tsit, Steven spoke in a casual, indifferent tone.
Honestly, if there was anything he was reluctant to part with, it was Mon3tr.
What a magnificent creation—powerful, sleek, and even self-aware.
Unlike the puppets, villagers, or monsters Steven could summon, Mon3tr had something they didn’t—emotion.
If he had more time, and if he hadn’t promised Kal'tsit not to harm Mon3tr, he would have loved to take it apart and examine its inner workings.
Oh well. It’s not like he was leaving forever.
He’d definitely return one day to continue his research.
“Hm? But our research isn’t even finished yet…”
For once, a hint of confusion flickered across Kal'tsit’s usually icy expression.
She was well aware of Steven’s daily routine on Rhodes Island—by all accounts, he seemed to be enjoying himself here.
Why would he suddenly decide to leave?
Has something happened?
Had he grown dissatisfied with Rhodes Island?
That didn’t seem likely—he hadn’t really been interacting with many people lately.
"As for researching a cure for Oripathy, I’ve already done everything I could. I tested my methods on that girl—Frostleaf. Whatever you can learn from that is up to you."
Steven smiled.
He wasn’t lying—he had used both milk and healing potions when treating Frostleaf.
If Kal'tsit and her team could actually figure something out from that, then good for them.
"Besides, I just want to go out and see the world. I want to meet the infected outside of Rhodes Island, to see for myself if this land—so ravaged by Oripathy—still has any hope for a cure."
For once, Steven dropped his usual carefree attitude and spoke seriously.
During his time at Rhodes Island, he hadn’t just been goofing off.
By following Gavial, he had met many people suffering from Oripathy and witnessed the determination of elite operators like Outcast who were fighting to cure them.
That didn’t mean he had suddenly turned into some selfless savior, but at the very least, he had started considering ways to make their lives a little better.
At the same time, he understood that he had only seen a tiny fraction of this world.
If he truly wanted to make a difference for the infected, he needed more than just what he had learned here.
And, most importantly—
Ursus has mines!
If there were mines, how could he, a Minecrafter, NOT dig them up?
"I respect your decision."
Kal'tsit remained silent for a long moment before finally nodding slightly.
Steven had only come to Rhodes Island at her invitation—when he chose to leave was entirely up to him.
If there was anything to regret, it was her failure to give him a reason to stay.
"Are you leaving today?"
Locking eyes with Steven, Kal'tsit asked her question flatly.
After spending so much time with this guy, at least when it came to Steven, Kal'tsit had learned to efficiently extract the most important points from his words and condense them into the simplest possible response.
"Pretty much. I still need to say goodbye to some friends, and then I'll be off to continue my journey."
"Of course, you don’t have to miss me too much. Like I told you before—if the day ever comes when you feel Rhodes Island has no choice but to dig out that ‘Doctor,’ you’re always welcome to contact me. I’d be more than happy to come back and meet them."
Steven stroked his chin.
The main storyline hadn’t started yet, so naturally, he wanted to roam around while he still could.
But of course, he hadn’t forgotten about the main quest—after all, it was the real source of points.
"……"
Kal'tsit stared at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, wait—don’t tell me you actually consider me a friend? Do you expect me to say goodbye to you too?"
Steven raised an eyebrow.
It wasn’t like he was going off to die.
Did she really need to look at him like that?
—Or could it be that she was actually a little reluctant to see him go?
On second thought, Steven figured that actually made perfect sense.
After all, he was a walking gold mine.
Letting go of such a valuable asset—who wouldn’t feel a little reluctant?
If the roles were reversed, he’d definitely tie himself up and dissect every last one of his secrets before even thinking about letting go.
"Ahem. I was just reminding you—Ursus is far more chaotic than you might expect. It’s not just the infected—you’ll also have to deal with the guerrillas, the military, and even some strange entities known as ‘Collapsals.’ You’d better be careful."
Kal'tsit cleared her throat, turning her face away.
But she still made sure to warn him regardless.
Even with his current level of strength, Ursus was no joke.
Unlike Iberia’s Inquisition, Ursus' official forces weren’t the type to play nice—and given Steven’s personality, she wouldn’t be surprised if he clashed with them.
That was not an outcome she wanted to see.
And as for those "Collapsals" lurking across the frozen wastelands… even she couldn’t fully explain what they were.
"Oh? So should I take this as… you caring about me?"
Steven grinned at her.
As cryptic as her words always were, at least this time, he could hear something else behind them.
"Sigh, well… since you’re being so kind, I guess I’ll be nice enough to give you a reminder too."
Steven smirked, then looked at her seriously.
"Try smiling more—it makes you look younger."
"And sometimes, thinking too much and saying too much… aren’t good things.|
"No matter what, everything comes to an end eventually. If you try too hard to keep everything under your control… it’s only going to exhaust you."
If it was a battle of cryptic messages, Steven was more than capable of playing that game too.
After saying his piece, he fell silent for a moment—then flashed her a grin.
"See you around, Miss Kal'tsit. Hopefully, next time we meet…"
"You’ll seem a little—hm, how should I put it—mentally younger?"
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Chapter 85: Chapter 85: Farewell
Chapter Text
Chapter 85: Farewell
After saying goodbye to Kal'tsit, Steven wandered over to Gavial’s infirmary, hands behind his back, just like an old man out for a stroll.
By coincidence, Warfarin was also there, seemingly discussing some medical issues with Gavial.
Steven casually squeezed himself between the two, but they didn’t seem to mind. They were already used to his habit of showing up just to watch the excitement.
"Frostleaf’s condition has completely regressed to the early stages of Oripathy. If it weren’t for the trace amounts of Originium elements still detectable in her blood, I’d think she was never infected to begin with."
"And the Originium crystals that were originally exposed on her skin? Gone. Not even a single trace of surgical removal—no scars, no detectable cause."
"She keeps asking me which doctor saved her—she insists on thanking them in person, no matter what."
Steven, of course, knew who this "Frostleaf" was.
And from the way Warfarin spoke, it was obvious she wasn’t really talking to Gavial.
She was talking to him.
But Steven only shrugged, refusing to take the bait.
Gavial, however, gave him a meaningful glance.
This miraculous recovery—didn’t it sound exactly like that ridiculous treatment method he had mentioned before?
"I think we should keep this under wraps for now."
"If the person who performed the procedure doesn’t want to be identified, we’d just be causing them trouble, wouldn’t we?"
Gavial cast Steven a quick glance before answering Warfarin.
"Tch, what a waste—a pretty young girl, completely devoted to finding her savior. If she knew her life was saved by a handsome guy, wouldn’t that make for a touching love story?"
Warfarin’s eyes lingered on Steven, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
This guy was full of secrets, but he never shared any of them.
How could they not be curious about him?
"Oh, cut it out."
"I’m not in the mood for our little games today, and I don’t feel like bickering with you two, either."
Steven grinned, crossing his arms as he leaned back into a chair, completely unfazed by their teasing.
He knew exactly what they were trying to do.
They were just trying to get a reaction out of him, hoping he’d accidentally spill something.
Too bad for them—he wasn’t taking the bait.
"I’m leaving."
For the first time, Gavial and Warfarin were stunned into silence.
Their expressions were a mix of shock and disbelief—Steven, not in the mood to argue?
Was the sun rising from the west today?
Ignoring their bewildered looks, Steven calmly continued.
"I just came to let you guys know—thought I’d say goodbye before I go."
He spread his hands, tilting his head slightly as he waited for their reaction.
"Wait, you’re joking, right?!"
Warfarin narrowed her eyes at him.
But when she saw the serious look in his eyes, her expression darkened.
"You're not playing around, are you?"
"Did something happen? Are you unhappy with Rhodes Island?"
If Steven really left, it would be a disaster for their research on treating Oripathy.
As long as he was still here, she could at least coax, pressure, or trick him into revealing bits and pieces of information.
But if he walked away completely…
The progress of their research would slow to a crawl.
In the very least, if they ever encountered another terminal-stage Oripathy patient like Frostleaf, they could always beg Steven to give them a sliver of hope.
Compared to a living, breathing life, no price was too high to pay for Steven’s help.
"Nah, not really. Except for the food being kinda mid, the entertainment being pretty much nonexistent, the general mood being kinda depressing, and the sheer number of patients being a bit too much—there's nothing bad about it at all."
Steven casually listed Rhodes Island’s downsides, then realized—other than the fact that there were more people here to talk to, it really didn’t have much going for it.
Any random place he settled down and built a little shack would probably be way more comfortable.
"...Is it really that bad?"
"You tell me."
Steven locked eyes with Warfarin.
She quickly looked away.
Because honestly? He wasn’t wrong.
Rhodes Island’s standard of living might surpass that of most people struggling on this land, but in the end, it still only ensured basic survival.
If we’re talking comfort… well, yeah. Not so much.
"But you haven’t fulfilled your promise to me yet—you said you’d use me as your test subject, didn’t you?"
Gavial finally spoke up, frowning at Steven.
He had only briefly examined the Originium on her body on the first day.
And then?
Nothing.
She had been a little worried about what experiments he might run on her, but now he was leaving before even doing anything?
"Ah, that? Well, I pretty much finished testing everything when I treated that girl you call Frostleaf."
"As for the rest… I think I need to leave Rhodes Island to find what I’m missing."
"Are you talking about the Draco saliva? In that case, shouldn’t you be going to Victoria, not Ursus?"
Gavial remembered that weird question Steven had asked her before.
She immediately assumed he was leaving to hunt down that bizarre ingredient.
"Uh… who’s to say I won’t find it in Ursus?"
"It’s not like Dracos are required to live in Victoria, right?"
"I’ve got a feeling—I’ll definitely run into one."
Steven didn’t bother explaining.
Gavial’s reasoning actually sounded pretty decent, so he just went with it.
Dragon’s Breath wasn’t necessary for him, but Originium?
Yeah, he was running low on EMC points.
So, in a way… she wasn’t wrong either.
"And what about your ‘adopted daughter’? You’re just gonna abandon her?"
Warfarin frowned, sensing that Steven was dead set on leaving.
Wasn’t he here to treat his daughter?
She wasn’t even fully healed yet, and he was already trying to skip town?
Rhodes Island didn’t even charge him any money—was there really a need to run away this fast?
"Gladiia? She’s got her two teammates looking after her—she’ll be fine."
"Besides, I’m not her real dad."
"And I’m not ‘running away.’"
"I just wanna go sightseeing in Ursus."
"It’s not like I won’t be back."
Steven shrugged.
Once the main storyline kicked in, he’d definitely come sprinting back.
That much, he was serious about.
Kal'tsit knew that too—that’s why she had let him go so easily.
Rather than forcing him to stay and making him resent Rhodes Island, it was better to let him explore the world.
Eventually, he’d come to understand things on his own.
"Oh, you’ll be back?"
"Well, in that case, no problem then."
Warfarin rolled her eyes.
She was a long-lived species—she had all the time in the world.
As long as Steven promised to return, she could afford to wait.
Just like Kal'tsit, they all understood one thing—solving Oripathy was not something that could be rushed.
"If you're asking to draw my blood, then absolutely not."
"But since I’ve been hanging around you all for so many days, I do have a little gift for you."
"Consider it something to keep you occupied after I leave."
"Wouldn’t want you accusing me of breaking my promise to help with your Oripathy research."
Steven pulled a small vial from his pocket, its contents glowing with a soft pink light.
Compared to milk—which wiped out afflictions with absurd efficiency and zero logical explanation—this healing potion was much easier to rationalize.
There were probably already similar things in this world, so Steven wasn’t worried about attracting too much attention.
They already had healing arts here, right?
So something like a healing liquid wouldn’t be that hard to accept, would it?
"Drink it when you’re on the verge of death—it’ll pull you back."
"But don’t expect it to cure Oripathy."
"And I’ve only got this one bottle—so don’t come looking for me when it’s gone."
He pushed the vial toward the two medical officers, whose eyes were practically sparkling.
Yeah, he figured they’d react like this.
"Well then, that’s that."
"We’ll meet again if fate allows."
Steven got to his feet, but before he could take a step, his sleeve was grabbed.
He turned to see Gavial standing as well, her crocodile tail swaying restlessly behind her—betraying the unease in her heart.
But when she looked into Steven’s eyes, her gaze was filled with determination.
"Can I go with you?"
She had said it before—she wanted to learn how to cure Oripathy.
And now, it seemed like the only way to do that was by staying with Steven.
"I don’t think that’s a good idea."
"You still need to learn."
"If you come with me, you’ll just end up learning all the wrong things."
"Just stay here and focus on what you actually want to do."
Steven shook his head.
He knew exactly what Gavial was thinking.
And that’s precisely why he couldn’t take her with him.
What, was she gonna follow him to a mine and start digging?
Did she really think he could teach her how to treat people?
Steven was not a doctor.
The most he could do was send people up to heaven so that they are saved from their pain.
"Now, if you told me you wanted to come because you liked me, and you wanted to elope with me from this shady medical company… I wouldn’t say no."
"But unfortunately, we’re not at that point yet."
"Besides, I don’t think I can handle your hair color—it’s a bit much for me."
Steven grinned.
Before Gavial could retort—her face tinged with a hint of annoyance—he suddenly disappeared.
A flash of soft purple light, and he was simply gone.
A real, honest-to-goodness teleportation.
Warfarin blinked in shock.
Then, she sighed in regret.
Just how many secrets was this guy hiding?
If she weren’t physically outmatched, she would have strapped him to an operating table and dissected him by now.
Gavial, on the other hand, was still touching her neatly-maintained green hair.
She had no idea what Steven meant by that last comment.
But just as the melancholy of his departure started to settle in, the medical bay doors suddenly swung open.
Steven poked his head back in.
"Uh… so, how do I get off Rhodes Island?"
"Do I need to call the driver to stop the car or something?"
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Chapter 86: Chapter 86: Touchdown and Instantly Slacking Off!
Chapter Text
Chapter 86: Touchdown and Instantly Slacking Off!
At the Ursus border, the massive landship of Rhodes Island plowed through the snow-covered terrain, carving a broad path through the vast, icy landscape. After pushing through the seemingly endless white expanse, it continued its journey toward the nearest mobile city.
Even though Rhodes Island was based on technology from a previous civilization, its operation still required fuel, supplies, and provisions for both operators and patients. These necessities could only be replenished in other mobile cities.
In fact, as a nominal medical company, Rhodes Island primarily sustained itself through trade and business deals with various nations.
The rumbling movement of the landship caught the attention of the people living in the endless snowy plains. But these people, long since numbed by hardship, only glanced briefly at the massive man-made structure before returning to their daily struggles.
For those living in the borderlands, at the absolute bottom of society, there was an unbridgeable gap between them and the elite citizens of the mobile cities.
Rather than wasting time marveling at such things, it was far more important to figure out how to survive the increasingly harsh winter and where their next meal was going to come from.
Thus, no one noticed as a figure suddenly leaped off the landship’s bridge, plunging straight into the snowy wasteland below.
<+>
"Damn~ so this is Ursus? It’s even more… desolate than I expected."
A long moment passed.
Then, in the snow-covered path left behind by Rhodes Island, a figure suddenly emerged from beneath the snow, brushing off the frost as he tightened his thin black trench coat around himself.
It was none other than Steven, who had just departed from Rhodes Island.
After leaving the medical bay, he didn’t bother visiting Gladiia’s ward before leaving.
Not because he didn’t care, but because he genuinely had no idea what to say to his "temporary daughter."
Might as well just dip first and deal with it later.
After all, he’d be back eventually.
By the time he returned, maybe her memory would’ve come back? That way, he could avoid any awkward confrontations altogether.
With that flawless (or so he thought) logic in mind, Steven decided to leave in style—by jumping straight off Rhodes Island’s bridge and executing a perfect landing.
—Well, almost perfect.
If you ignored the two-meter-deep crater he left in the snow.
And the fact that he only survived thanks to enchanted boots with [Feather Falling IV] that cushioned his fall.
From the start, he had dismissed Kal'tsit’s "sensible suggestion" to leave via the mobile city Rhodes Island was heading to.
If he was gonna start an adventure, then randomly parachuting into the unknown sounded way more fun.
Besides, if he kept seeing the same mobile cities that looked too similar to the world he remembered, wouldn’t that just get boring?
He knew that most of the world wasn’t like the developed cities.
Most people lived in places like Iberia’s Sea Breeze Village, where they weren’t even allowed inside mobile cities to begin with.
Come to think of it, those cities were built to escape something called "Catastrophes," right?
Steven was actually pretty curious about those.
If he got the chance, he definitely wanted to observe one up close.
The only thing that caught him off guard so far was just how brutal the weather in Ursus really was.
Back on Rhodes Island, his black trench coat had been more than enough thanks to the temperature control systems onboard.
But the moment he stepped outside?
Yeah…
Now he understood why they called this place "Frozen Tundra."
It was cold as hell.
Exhaling a cloud of frosty breath, Steven thought it over for a moment before deciding to ditch the Rhodes Island-marked trench coat and uniform.
Instead, he swapped into a more comfortable set of leather armor.
Though… now that he looked at it in this world, it felt more like fur-lined winter wear.
But at least it kept him warm.
No wonder this armor could prevent frostbite from powdered snow in higher versions of Minecraft—it really did a great job at insulation
As for his helmet, Steven had really wanted to wear his beloved Ender Dragon head.
But both Kal'tsit and Gavial had seriously warned him about the kind of trouble it would bring.
So, after some reluctant thinking, he gave up on the idea.
And then… he just slapped a carved, glowing pumpkin onto his head instead.
Honestly, Steven had no clue how this thing managed to light up while still being wearable.
But considering how /hat commands could let you wear TNT blocks, this was probably not the weirdest thing in the world.
If anything, a glowing pumpkin helmet was way cooler.
It even came with built-in night vision!
A walking light source, how could he not use it?
Taking out a small mirror, he admired his newly-disguised look, nodding in satisfaction.
"Yeah, no way anyone's gonna recognize me now."
At least this way, he wouldn't be immediately noticed like before, when people could somehow sense his inexplicable "kingly aura."
With his fresh new look, Steven scratched his head, squinting at the endless, snow-covered plains stretching out in all directions.
One thing was for sure—the scenery was amazing.
But if he stayed out here too long, he was probably going to get snow blindness.
"So… what the hell am I supposed to do now?"
Taking out a baked potato, he chomped down on it, casually restoring his hunger bar as he fell into deep thought.
Back on Rhodes Island, his original plan had been simple:
Find a mining site and start digging.
But now?
Forget finding a mine, he hadn’t even seen a single person since landing.
This… wasn’t exactly what he had expected.
His whole mind had been focused on how to mine faster and get more Originium, but he’d completely forgotten that he knew nothing about Ursus.
His minimap mod was still grayed out, meaning he hadn’t discovered anything yet.
‘So much for trying to use it to find a village.’
Scratching his head, Steven glanced down at the frozen ground beneath his feet, then back up at the endless white plains and the rising sun in the sky.
After a moment of internal debate, he decided to let fate decide.
Pulling out a silver coin—one he’d "borrowed" from Closure—he flipped it into the air and made a deal with himself:
Heads → Go east.
Tails → Go west.
Lands on its edge → Build a house and slack off.
And, of course…
The coin landed straight into the thick snow, standing perfectly on its edge.
"…Well then. Looks like fate has spoken."
Steven nodded solemnly, as if this was a divine revelation, and definitely not an excuse to not move because he was already freezing.
"Yep. Absolutely not because I’m too cold to walk. No way."
Muttering to himself, Steven fished the silver coin out of the snow, then casually glanced around to find a relatively flat spot nearby.
After selecting a suitable location, he pulled out his Crafting Table from his inventory.
Standing in front of the empty plot, Steven fell into deep thought again.
Sure, he had decided to build a simple wooden house, but… shouldn’t it at least have some style?
Should he go for a cozy rural cottage, or maybe a Western-style villa with a bit more aesthetic charm?
Every time he had to build something, Steven would inevitably get a headache.
After all, as a long-time vanilla player, once he reached the endgame, the only real fun left was building things.
It might just be a temporary residence, sure—but it needed details, right?
For example, he’d definitely need a storage room for his stuff, a farm for food, and of course, a kitchen.
Then there were bathrooms, a workshop for his crafting tables, and obviously kennels and cat houses for his pets.
And if he was adding all that, then how could he not build an outdoor swimming pool and a fishing dock?
Not to mention a garden, greenery, and a proper fence.
But by the time Steven had fully mapped out his supposedly "temporary" matchbox house, he suddenly realized that this had nothing to do with a simple wooden house anymore.
In fact, rather than a matchbox house, this was shaping up to be a luxurious mansion—probably better than most people on Rhodes Island were living in.
"Hmm… yeah, this might be a bit too extravagant. If someone finds out, that could be a problem."
Scratching his head, Steven ultimately settled for building just a 5x5 wooden cube—perfectly square and ridiculously simple.
—At least, on the surface.
In reality, he dug out a three-story basement, filled it with dozens of large and small chests, and even cleared a small patch of land outside his front door to plant some bright green potato sprouts—a stark contrast against the endless white snowfield.
Because no matter what, as a true Minecrafter, he had his principles:
You can lack everything, but you must have chests and farmland!
Once all that was done, Steven solemnly pulled out his pink wool bed from his inventory, his expression almost sacred as he gently placed it in the center of his tiny wooden cabin.
Placing this bed down meant one thing—
This was his real home now.
Sure, it was a bit basic, but at least it was handmade.
And most importantly, this entire land was now his.
Satisfied, he clapped his hands, then cut a skylight into the roof, sealing it with glass to let in some natural light.
For extra ambiance, he placed a redstone lamp beside his bed before nodding in approval.
Finally, stepping outside, Steven took a long look at the first structure he had built since arriving in this world.
Objectively speaking?
It was… just a matchbox house.
Not much to comment on, really.
But hey, at least it was better than digging a hole in the ground, right?
Looking at his decidedly unimpressive "house," Steven grinned wryly.
Now that he had a place to stay, it was about time to see if there were any interesting "neighbors" nearby for a friendly chat.
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Chapter 87: Chapter 87: Guess This Will Do
Chapter Text
Chapter 87: Guess This Will Do
Building his matchbox house didn’t take Steven very long.
By skipping all the unnecessary rooms that he probably wouldn’t even use, the whole process became much simpler.
And just like that, Steven had plenty of time left over to explore his surroundings and get a better understanding of his current situation.
At first glance, there was nothing but an endless expanse of snow stretching as far as the eye could see.
Still, that didn’t mean he was just going to sleep the day away.
At the very least, he needed to light up his map and get a sense of his environment.
After all, he was still within Ursus’ borders.
As long as the conditions weren’t so extreme that survival was impossible, Steven figured he should at least have a chance of finding some locals.
After all, never underestimate humanity’s ability to survive in desperate conditions.
As long as they were alive, people would always blast their own way forward.
Just like the eskimos from his first world—
Even though they lived in a similarly endless frozen tundra, some might go their entire lives without eating cooked food, yet they still managed to survive in such a harsh environment.
With that in mind, Steven tidied up his admittedly crude little home.
Once he made sure he had all his essentials, he tightened the straps of his leather armor and stepped away from the warmth of his campfire—putting it out on the way out.
Closing the iron door behind him, Steven figured that, even though his house was basically empty, he still wouldn’t want strangers poking around in it.
That was just personal space, plain and simple.
With everything ready, Steven casually picked a direction and started walking.
With a bed and a minimap marker, he wasn’t worried about losing his way home.
That said—
A guy wearing a full fur outfit, topped off with a glowing pumpkin head, wandering across a vast white tundra…
Yeah, that was way too eye-catching.
He looked like something straight out of a cryptid legend.
Not that Steven himself realized this.
As he wandered aimlessly across the hard, frozen ground, now free from the cold’s bite, he glanced up at the sun and sighed in relief.
At least the weather was decent.
If he had to map out his surroundings while trekking through a blizzard, there was no way in hell he’d be willing to do it.
I mean, who in their right mind would go running around in a godforsaken place like this under horrible weather conditions?
The only thing annoying him was that he’d been walking for over half an hour, and not only had he seen no signs of human activity, but even wildlife seemed weirdly scarce.
Everywhere he looked, there was just an endless suffocating white.
“…Did I pick the wrong direction?
Even if this is some deserted borderland, it shouldn’t be this quiet, right?
Or maybe… does this world just not have wild animals?”
Muttering to himself, Steven was about to switch directions when a scent hit his nose.
Something that didn’t belong in this pristine frozen landscape.
His nose twitched twice as he confirmed that the scent wasn’t his imagination.
It was real—coming from somewhere up ahead, hidden beneath the snow-covered forest.
‘Finally.’
Steven’s lips curled into a grin.
It’s the smell of blood.
And where there’s blood, there’s at least some form of life.
Or, at the very least—traces of it.
Following the scent of blood, Steven silently slipped into the unnervingly quiet forest.
The closer he got to the source of the scent, the more chaotic the scene became.
Broken branches and frantic footprints scattered across the ground confirmed his suspicions.
But there was something unexpected—
Aside from human shoe prints, there was also a set of large, bear-like paw prints pressed deep into the snow.
In other words, someone up ahead had the misfortune of getting attacked by a bear?
Steven stroked his chin.
That wasn’t particularly surprising.
What did strike him as odd, though, is the fact that the tracks told a different story.
The bear’s footprints led ahead, while the human tracks were in pursuit.
That was strange.
Sure, when Outcast and the others described Ursus, Steven already got the feeling that this country’s real-world inspiration might be Russia…
But still, it’s not like they’d be so hardcore that people hunted grizzlies for fun, treating them like oversized hamsters, right?
Frowning in confusion, Steven pressed forward.
He knew that once he reached the place where the blood scent was strongest, he’d get his answer.
Pushing through a brittle thicket of dead trees, clearly snapped by some force, Steven finally laid eyes on what he was looking for.
—A grizzly bear’s corpse, its chest cavity hollowed out, its organs completely missing.
Judging from the chaotic scene around it, this bear must have fought desperately but failed to escape.
And the one responsible?
Long gone.
Steven crouched down, running a hand across the frozen bloodstains.
It was hard to tell how long ago the killer had left, but one thing was certain—
This didn’t happen recently.
His gaze fell on the bear’s mutilated torso.
Just what kind of being could do something like this?
There were no weapon marks, only claw wounds from the bear itself—meaning the killer likely took it down in a single blow.
That wasn’t normal.
If this had been a hunter from the tundra, they wouldn’t have wasted the bear’s flesh and hide.
Compared to organs, the meat and fur were far more valuable for survival.
But this scene?
This was more like a predator’s kill.
After all, organs contain the most nutrients and energy—the best part for sustaining life in harsh conditions.
But a human, hunting a grizzly bear?
And the lack of any fire pit nearby meant they had eaten the organs raw.
This wasn’t human behavior.
No, it was something human-shaped, but not human at all.
Steven sighed, shaking his head.
“Such a waste of good bear meat.”
Though curious, he didn’t dwell on it.
If there really was some strange monster nearby, then sooner or later, he’d run into it.
For now, he was just happy that this little outing had netted him a whole bear’s worth of meat.
He’d had plenty of beef, pork, and lamb before, but bear?
Now that was something he hadn’t tasted much of.
After all, in vanilla Minecraft, bears don’t even drop meat.
At least this trip wasn’t a total waste—
That was Steven’s thought as he reached for the grizzly bear’s corpse, intending to store it in his inventory.
But then, the unexpected happened.
The moment his fingers neared the bear’s paw, a tear suddenly split open across the flesh.
Instead of blood, something far worse emerged.
A single, crimson eye—eerily human-like—blinked back at him from within the wound.
Steven’s hand recoiled instinctively, his expression twisting in disgust.
But the mutation wasn’t done yet.
The instant that grotesque eye opened, the sound of tearing flesh filled the silent forest.
Within seconds, the once-intact bear corpse was covered in these unnerving, staring eyes.
They all locked onto him in unison.
The feeling of being watched by countless gazes made Steven’s skin crawl.
It was just too revolting.
And as he struggled to suppress his growing discomfort, the horror escalated—
The bear’s exposed ribcage began to twist and reform, morphing into grotesque, blood-soaked arms that replaced its missing limbs.
With those twisted appendages, the creature slowly rose from the ground.
Steven raised an eyebrow.
“The hell is this? A live-action body horror scene?”
This was the kind of sickening spectacle you’d only expect to see in some extreme R-18 horror flick.
Honestly, he was just trying to eat, but now, his appetite was ruined.
Just moments ago, he’d been thinking about how to cook the bear meat…
Now?
Yeah, not happening.
Even if someone offered it to him for free, he wouldn’t touch it.
But the abomination didn’t care about Steven’s opinions.
Having adjusted to its new, grotesque form, it suddenly lunged forward far faster than anything that size should move.
Its maw remained shut, but from within its exposed chest cavity, slender, writhing tendrils lashed outward like grasping fingers.
For most people, such a horrifying sight would be paralyzing, yhey’d freeze up in sheer terror and end up dead before they could react.
But Steven?
He wasn’t just some helpless scholar with no combat ability.
Nor was this the first time he’d seen something so grotesque.
Back when he’d faced parasitic infections on Parasites Mod, he’d already dealt with far worse—
Like that decapitated cow head that somehow sprouted legs and scuttled after him like a spider.
So, an eye-covered, mutating corpse-monster?
Yeah, not exactly nightmare fuel.
Especially when it had a visible health bar over its head.
How scary could it really be?
With a flash of cold steel, Steven unsheathed his blade—
The legendary [Yamato].
A single arc of dazzling light split through the air, and in the next instant, the nightmarish creature collapsed into a heap of neatly sliced meat behind him.
Sliding his blade back into its sheath, Steven sighed.
“Creepy, sure. But weak as hell.”
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You can also just click on the picture, it will sent you to there right away.
Chapter 88: Chapter 88: A Thief, in a Sense
Chapter Text
Chapter 88: A Thief, in a Sense
Steven really hadn’t expected this.
He had just barely set foot in Ursus, less than half a day since leaving Rhodes Island, and he had already encountered something so bizarre that he didn’t even know how to describe it.
He hadn't provoked anyone. He hadn't done anything wrong.
Was it because he had somehow offended the heavens, bringing bad luck upon himself?
Otherwise, how else could he immediately run into a monster attack the moment he arrived?
Or maybe…
Was Terra really as hopeless as Kal'tsit had implied?
Has this world already reached a point where monsters roamed freely like stray dogs?
Frowning, Steven turned back to inspect the pile of minced meat that was once the monstrosity he had just slain.
He wasn't sure whether it was because [Yamato] was just too sharp, or if the creature simply had paper-thin defenses, but cutting through it had felt no different from slicing tofu.
Hacking it into tiny chunks was just a precaution, he didn’t want some disgusting thing like this pulling off a revival stunt.
No matter how ridiculous its regeneration abilities might be, there was no way it could recover from being chopped into bite-sized pieces, right?
Luckily, his concerns were unnecessary.
Just as he had predicted, this monster was nothing more than a terrifying sight, it had no real power to survive an attack like his.
The bloodshot red eyes that covered its body all bulged wide open, as if they refused to accept this outcome.
But ultimately, they burst, dissolving into pools of dark, putrid blood.
The behemoth that had once swelled like a tank had now shrunk down into nothing more than a tattered sheet of skin, surrounded by a vile-smelling puddle of pus.
Disgusted, Steven grabbed a random branch from the ground and poked through the leftover remains.
Surprisingly, he actually found something useful in the mess.
[Dismembered Limb of a Stray Collapsal]
No WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) gained.
Which meant that this thing wasn’t part of the game’s main storyline.
That alone was enough to kill most of Steven’s interest.
He had heard Kal'tsit mention the term “Collapsal” before, but the cryptic woman had been tight-lipped about what it actually was.
All she had told him was to be cautious, though she reassured him that with his abilities, even in Ursus, encountering one wouldn’t be too big of a problem.
That look on her face…
Steven had a feeling it wasn’t that she didn’t want to say more, it was that saying too much might trigger something bad.
Weird.
Could it be that the more you talk about these things, the stronger they get?
At least, from what he could see, this monster was hardly impressive outside of being grotesquely disgusting.
Honestly, it was even less threatening than those funny-looking Sea Terror he had encountered in Iberia.
Then again, maybe it was just a byproduct of some transformation process, rather than the actual Collapsal itself.
After thinking it through, Steven realized that this was probably just a trap left behind by whatever ate the grizzly bear.
If anyone tried tracking it, they’d have to deal with this nasty surprise first.
But now, another question lingered, who was hunting this “Stray Collapsal”?
And more importantly, what exactly does a real one even look like?
Feeling excited for what was to come, Steven couldn’t help but smile.
Now this—
This was fun.
This was the kind of entertainment he could never experience on Rhodes Island.
After all, that place wasn’t exactly the setting of some detective drama, it wasn’t like he was living in the world of a certain death-magnet elementary schooler (Detective Conan), where murder cases popped up every other day.
Cozy, peaceful days were nice and all, but Steven still felt that things were much more interesting when a bit of violence was involved.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to face the Collapsal in person.
A bit of a letdown, really.
Surveying the chaotic mess he had left behind, Steven picked up the dropped item before pulling a flint and steel out of his inventory.
Who knew if this thing could still infect other wild animals?
For the sake of the environment, the cleanest solution was to burn it all down.
As for whether that would interfere with whoever was tracking the Collapsal…
Well, too bad.
Leaving the scene intact might even lead them back to him, and that wouldn’t be fun at all.
With a casual flick of the flint, flames sprang to life, devouring the blood and pus on the ground.
Soon, the entire area was engulfed in fire.
Only when everything had been reduced to ash did the flames die out.
Sometimes, Steven couldn’t help but wonder—
This flint was just a flint, yet it could burn endlessly, even on stone and dirt.
What was it even using as fuel?
It didn’t seem to give a damn about the laws of thermodynamics.
Then again, considering the floating buildings and perpetual motion machines in Minecraft, it was probably pointless to dwell on such things.
Instead, it was better to go home and figure out what this drop was good for.
Tracking down the Collapsal would be far too much effort, especially for something that didn’t even give him any WAP (World Acknowledgement Point).
If it happened, it happened.
With that decision made, Steven stuffed the dropped item back into his inventory and left the area, striding lightly toward his simple wooden cabin.
<+>
Hours later—
A group of mysteriously dressed figures emerged from the edge of the forest, standing over the charred remains of the battlefield.
Each of them was abnormally tall, their faces completely covered by strange, respirator-like devices.
Thick, hose-like tubes coiled around their faces, resembling facehuggers, while the bizarre machinery on their backs emitted steady, rhythmic breaths.
One of them finally spoke:
“The scent ends here. Someone triggered the Collapsal’s trap and fought it.”
Despite the area being burned beyond recognition, these figures still managed to analyze the scene, piecing together the sequence of events.
Collapsals didn’t use fire to destroy evidence.
Which meant that someone else had been here.
Someone who didn’t want to be identified.
And given how thoroughly the area had been cleaned up, it was clear that whoever fought the Collapsal had won.
The one standing at the center—seemingly their leader—fell silent for a moment, then made the most rational decision given the circumstances:
“Report this to our superiors. Our primary target is still the Stray Collapsal. The other party is not our concern. We only need to document their presence.”
Eliminating any trace of the Collapsal’s pollution was now their top priority.
Any other side events that might interfere with the mission could be investigated later.
“Understood,” one of the black-clad figures responded, crouching down to inspect the faint traces left behind.
“Based on the residual scent, the target escaped eastward. It’s been feeding constantly and laying traps along the way.”
The tracker then pointed in a completely different direction from where Steven had left.
Just as their leader had said, neutralizing the Collapsal came first.
If they allowed it to keep feeding and recovering, the consequences could become disastrous.
Without another word, the group of black-clad figures took off, swiftly pursuing their true target as they disappeared into the frozen wasteland.
<+>
Steven had no idea that if he’d just waited a few more hours, he could have met those interesting individuals.
Instead, he was preoccupied with something else—
Something far more important.
His worst fear had come true.
Someone had visited his home.
More precisely—
They hadn’t entered his house, but they had stopped by his potato field.
Steven stared at the patch of missing crops, the soil clearly disturbed by some kind of digging tool.
With a sigh, he pressed a hand to his forehead.
His carefully grown potatoes had been dug up, and—worst of all—they hadn’t been replanted!
For any Minecrafter, this was the kind of grievance that usually called for immediate retaliation.
But...
The so-called “thief” had been surprisingly polite.
They had only taken a small portion from one corner of the field, leaving the rest untouched.
Not only that, but as if to apologize, they had left a basket—one full to the brim with a variety of wild mushrooms—right by his front door.
So technically, was this even theft?
Or had they just bartered with him without asking?
Steven suddenly found himself at a loss.
Back in Minecraft, when playing on servers, if someone passed by and harvested their crops, as long as they replanted them, most players wouldn’t mind.
This situation wasn’t exactly the same, but it wasn’t the same as some griefing brat ruining everything either.
And honestly?
It was fascinating that in a world this harsh, someone still had enough decency to be this considerate.
He had a feeling he’d be meeting this potato thief again soon.
Picking up the basket of mushrooms, Steven weighed it in his hands, his conflicted expression gradually shifting into a smile.
A few potatoes in exchange for a whole basket of mushrooms?
That wasn’t too bad of a deal, was it?
Guess tonight’s dinner is chicken and mushroom stew.
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Chapter 89: Chapter 89: Everyone’s So Polite
Chapter Text
Chapter 89: Everyone’s So Polite
Steven was a man of his word. That night, he took the basket of mushrooms and cooked himself an entire cauldron full of chicken soup.
Honestly, his life off the island was even more peaceful than when he was at Rhodes Island.
After all, in a place crowded with people, Steven didn’t want to act too different from the norm. Besides, if he were a guest in someone else’s home, it would be a bit rude to suddenly take over the kitchen and start cooking for himself.
But back in the little matchbox house he had built, he didn’t have to worry about any of that.
In fact, without all the strict rules of Minecraft, he could finally embrace his true strength as a man from the modern era—
Using a cauldron as a cooking pot, setting up a campfire to grill meat, seasoning dishes with salt and sugar—
These were simple steps, but for Steven, they brought a deep sense of satisfaction.
Because in Minecraft, cooking was just a matter of throwing ingredients into a crafting table and getting the finished product instantly.
Where was the joy in that?
Even when he had installed mods to enhance the cooking mechanics, it just made the process more complicated, but still lacked the real pleasure of actually cooking by hand.
And don’t even mention the taste—
Everything came out exactly the same.
But now? Steven could throw whatever he wanted into the pot. If he felt like adding some Originium for extra flavor, no one could stop him.
Feeling content, Steven finally sat down, pulling a folding chair out of his inventory. Like an old man enjoying his retirement, he leaned back at the entrance of his matchbox house, savoring the view of the sunset—
A sunset completely different from the one in Minecraft.
This was the kind of world he preferred.
There were interesting things to see, stories to experience, and pleasures to indulge in.
Maybe that was all a person really needed to be happy—just simple fulfillment.
Well… if only he had a computer.
That way, after dinner, he could sit down at his desk, hop into a call with some friends, and queue up for a couple of games.
Now that would be the definition of relaxation.
As for the whole "wife, kids, and a warm bed" lifestyle?
He wouldn’t reject it.
If anything, Steven had actually thought about starting a family—experiencing a relationship that truly belonged to him.
That desire had been buried deep in his mind for a long time.
After all, in a world where he had everything—except for companionship—maybe if he had someone by his side, his mental state wouldn’t have ended up this bad.
"Love, huh? Must be nice.”
“Too bad I’ve never felt it before. And honestly? I doubt I ever will."
“Who would ever fall for a madman like me?”
Lying back in his chair, Steven gazed at the reddening sky, fully aware that the chances of him experiencing a pure, youthful romance were basically zero at this point.
His brain just didn’t work that way.
It was unlikely that any girl could keep up with his chaotic, impulsive thought process.
And even if someone could keep up with him—
Why the hell would they fall for him?
So, Steven had long since given up on the idea of a normal relationship.
In fact, he figured he might as well go full "harem king" mode—become the ultimate womanizer, the legendary breeding machine.
Why not, right?
With a smirk, he mocked himself, half-joking, half-serious.
In truth, he had no idea what he’d do if he actually met someone he liked.
But since that hadn’t happened yet, there was no point in overthinking it.
Just take things one step at a time.
As Steven let his mind drift, the sun finally dipped below the horizon.
Yawning, he was just about to head inside for a nice, cozy sleep—
But then, he stopped mid-movement.
Out in the snowy plains, two silhouettes were slowly approaching from the distance.
He had spent the entire day searching and found no one, yet now, just as he was about to sleep, people suddenly showed up at his doorstep?
And they came looking for him on their own?
Now this was interesting.
Instead of going back inside his matchbox house, Steven simply sat back down on his chair, waiting for the two figures who were clearly heading straight toward him.
Could it be… that guy who stole my potatoes earlier today?
Rubbing his chin, Steven watched as the two figures quickly approached. After some thought, he reached into his inventory and pulled out a Jack-o'-lantern, plopping it onto his head.
Better not scare them, right?
Of course, it never even crossed his mind that having a glowing pumpkin for a head might actually be even more terrifying.
Before long, he and the approaching duo finally met.
To his surprise, the first thing they did upon arriving was pull out a few potatoes—still covered in bits of dirt—from a sack and place them in front of him.
"Huh?"
Steven instantly recognized them—these were the exact potatoes that had gone missing from his field.
“I apologize," the white-haired girl with adorable deer-like antlers finally spoke up.
Despite clearly being startled by Steven’s glowing pumpkin head, she managed to suppress her reaction and deliver a polite, well-mannered apology.
“My grandfather took these potatoes from your field without your permission. We understand that this may have caused you unnecessary trouble, and we sincerely hope you can forgive us.”
The girl's beast-like ears twitched slightly due to nervousness, but her respectful attitude was so genuine that even Steven, with his usual unpredictable thought process, was momentarily at a loss for words.
Honestly, with this level of sincerity, along with the fact that not a single potato was missing, Steven felt like pressing about this matter further would make him the unreasonable one here.
The old man standing next to her, however, looked noticeably less willing to be part of this exchange.
“I already left some mushrooms at his doorstep… Even in the city, that would have been a fair trade for potatoes,” the old man muttered under his breath.
But from the way his round, bear-like ears twitched and his face turned slightly red, it was clear that he was just being stubborn—a typical old man trait.
Even so, despite his complaints, he still bowed alongside the girl, sincerely expressing his apology.
"Grandfather, enough," the girl sighed, tugging at the sleeve of the old man’s coat. “You took something that wasn’t yours without asking first. It’s not about whether it was a fair trade or not.”
Perhaps due to his old age, the grandfather didn’t seem to notice what was actually on Steven’s head—he probably assumed it was just a strange-looking helmet.
The girl, however, was different.
She had already suspected that anyone capable of setting up a home in such a dangerous snowy wasteland couldn’t possibly be ordinary—and Steven’s bizarre attire only confirmed her suspicions.
This was not someone they could afford to offend.
After all, who could guarantee that he wouldn’t be angered by the fact that someone had taken his crops?
The girl, well aware that most people in this world aren’t particularly reasonable, could only hope that the owner of this house would accept her apology.
"It’s not like I meant any harm," the old man muttered under his breath, still clearly reluctant. "I was just curious about what kind of crop could grow so well in such harsh weather and conditions… Besides, I waited half the day for him to return, but he never showed up. Even if you hadn’t dragged me here today, I would have come back tomorrow to explain things to him myself."
Though he understood that he had technically done something wrong, he still wasn’t entirely happy about having to brave the wind and snow late at night just to apologize.
Steven, meanwhile, had finally pieced together the whole story after listening to the grandfather-granddaughter duo’s whispered conversation.
Just as he had guessed—
This old man must have discovered the potatoes growing outside his house earlier that day, then tried to talk to him about them. But since Steven had been out, the old man had ended up taking matters into his own hands—trading mushrooms for potatoes without permission.
Later, the girl must have found out and dragged him back here to apologize.
Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.
"So… you two came all this way just to apologize to me?"
Now that he fully understood the situation, Steven felt much more at ease.
Honestly, it was their mistake to begin with. But since they had taken the initiative to come back and apologize, there really wasn’t much left to fuss about.
Steven liked to think of himself as a reasonable person.
Besides, they returned the potatoes, but he had already eaten all their mushrooms.
"Yes," the girl nodded earnestly. "We just hope you won’t misunderstand. My grandfather is not a thief—he was just excited when he saw such a high-quality crop. That’s all."
Her eyes were filled with sincerity, but since she couldn’t tell where Steven’s glowing pumpkin-head was actually looking, she simply directed her gaze toward where she assumed his face would be.
"I get it. I’d be curious too if I were in his position," Steven admitted with a nod. "But at the end of the day… taking something without permission is still wrong, wouldn’t you agree?"
The girl’s expression tensed slightly.
"That’s why—"
Steven suddenly stood up.
Already tall to begin with, the glowing pumpkin head only made him seem even more imposing.
With his face completely obscured, it was nearly impossible for the girl to read his intentions.
"So that means… I’m keeping that basket of mushrooms," he declared.
The sudden shift in atmosphere made both the girl and the old man stiffen slightly.
But then—
"—But if you still feel like you got the short end of the stick, I don’t mind sharing some of my chicken soup with you. I made way too much anyway."
With that, the pressure around him instantly disappeared, replaced by his usual lighthearted tone.
Since they had been so sincere in their apology, he wasn’t about to hold a grudge over something this small.
Besides…
Their appearance meant one very important thing—
He had finally found a lead to a nearby village.
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Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Alina
Chapter Text
Chapter 90: Alina
The girl hadn’t expected this kind of response from Steven.
She had assumed that, at the very least, he would ask them to compensate him in some way. She had even prepared herself to pay some kind of price to settle the matter.
But instead, he had let it go—and even invited them to stay for dinner?
Wasn’t that a little too nice?
It completely contradicted his current appearance.
"I told you—people who love farming don’t usually have bad personalities," the old man beside her chuckled. "See? I was right."
Unlike the girl, who was still in mild shock, the old man easily accepted this turn of events.
He had lived his whole life on this harsh yet honest land, and he firmly believed that anyone who took joy in farming couldn’t possibly be too bad of a person.
Those with truly malicious hearts would never be able to grow crops as healthy and thriving as the ones Steven had.
Because farming required patience.
It required effort.
A person who was willing to put in that effort… surely couldn’t have a wicked nature.
If Steven had known what the old man was thinking, he probably would’ve found it hilarious—after all, he had barely done any real farming himself.
For him, planting crops was just a matter of digging a hole and throwing the seeds in.
Hardly the dedicated farmer the old man was picturing.
Standing up straight, the old man rubbed his hands together excitedly.
Ever since they arrived at Steven’s house, he had caught the scent of something delicious coming from inside.
A rich, meaty aroma filled the air—one he recognized.
He had smelled something similar once before—on his wife’s birthday, when the village hunter had gifted them a small bowl of meat soup.
Back then, he hadn’t even gotten a single sip, yet the fragrance had remained etched in his memory.
But Steven’s soup…
Somehow, it smelled even better.
"Don’t get me wrong," Steven spoke up, noticing the lingering doubt in the girl’s expression. "I just figured—it’s not easy to come all this way in this kind of weather just to apologize. And besides, recognizing your mistakes and taking responsibility is an admirable trait.”
“That being said…”
“Don’t do it again.”
“If there’s one thing I absolutely can’t stand, it’s people using my stuff without permission."
Seeing that the girl was still uncertain, Steven simply shrugged and turned around, stepping inside his home.
A moment later, he returned with two bowls of steaming chicken soup, carefully scooping them out of his alchemist’s pot.
"Here," he said, placing the bowls in front of them. "Drink some—it’ll warm you up."
Then, with a casual smile, he added, "Since we’re neighbors now, I’m sure I’ll need to ask you guys about some things sooner or later."
He wasn’t going to force them to drink.
Whether they accepted it or not was up to them—he had already done his part as a host.
"You’re saying you just moved here?" The old man asked, sounding a little surprised. "This place isn’t exactly… ideal for settling down, you know."
Unlike the girl, who still didn’t know how to respond, the old man was far more relaxed.
And after spotting the mushrooms he had given Steven floating in the soup, his last bits of doubt disappeared.
A truly deceitful person wouldn’t eat the food given by others.
The more untrustworthy a person was, the less they trusted others in return.
Holding the warm bowl in his hands, the old man brought it close to his nose, taking a deep breath of the rich, savory aroma.
Then, as if chatting with an old neighbor, he struck up a conversation.
"So, you’re a traveler, then?"
"Something like that," Steven replied casually. "I’ve been wandering around for a while. Just arrived here not too long ago.”
“I don’t really know the area yet, so I just built a simple house and decided to make do for now."
Steven nodded but noticed that the old man merely took a small sip of the oil floating on top of the soup before showing a satisfied expression. Then, he pulled out a flask from his pocket, emptied out the water inside, and carefully poured the chicken soup into it.
"Hm? What are you doing?" Steven asked.
"Oh, I want to bring some back for my wife," the old man replied with a hearty chuckle. "Her body is weak, and in this kind of freezing weather, eating more nutritious food is always a good thing."
Steven observed the old man’s simple yet heartwarming actions.
There was an unmistakable honesty in the way he carried himself—an unpolished, hardworking quality unique to those who had lived through hardships.
And from the way he spoke about his wife, it was clear—this was a man with a happy family.
"That’s nice," Steven said casually. "But since it’s already so late, why don’t I walk you both home?"
He didn’t comment further on the soup—it was theirs now, so how they used it was their business.
What he really wanted to know was—where exactly was their village?
If there was a settlement nearby, then at the very least, he would have a place to trade for local specialties.
And more importantly, if there were locals, it would make finding a nearby mine way easier.
"That might be too much trouble for you, sir…"
The girl beside the old man looked slightly uneasy.
She glanced at the old man, who had already accepted Steven as a friendly neighbor, and then looked back at Steven himself.
There was no denying that he seemed nice enough—but at the same time, his strange attire made it really hard to trust him completely.
It wasn’t that she was judging him based on his appearance—but let’s be honest…
It was kind of his fault for dressing so bizarrely in the first place, wasn’t it?
"I wouldn’t call it trouble," Steven said lightly. "We’re neighbors now, aren’t we? It’s only natural to visit each other’s homes from time to time.”
“Besides, if I know where your village is, it’ll make it easier for me to trade for supplies when I need them."
Steven could see that the girl was still wary, but he didn’t mind.
Instead of trying to convince her, he simply stated his true intentions outright.
Whether she chose to believe him or not—that was her problem.
"Really?"
Before the girl could respond, the old man suddenly perked up.
"Young man, I was actually curious about your potatoes, if possible, would you be willing to trade some of those potato seeds?"
The real reason the old man had taken Steven’s potatoes in the first place was because of this exact curiosity.
Now that Steven had brought up trading, he simply couldn’t sit still any longer.
"That’s not really possible," Steven said, shaking his head with a smile.
"The way these potatoes grow requires a special technique that only I know.”
“But if you’re really interested, I don’t mind trading baked potatoes as a cheap food item instead."
Steven wasn’t being stingy—he just had no intention of giving away something that might be considered valuable intellectual property.
Even when he gave some to the Inquisition of Iberia, it was only in exchange for the backing of a powerful institution.
But baked potatoes?
Now those were just food.
They couldn’t be planted, so there was no risk of someone stealing his technique.
"I see…"
The old man’s excitement faded slightly, but he understood.
After all, these potatoes were clearly a rare breed—if they could thrive in this kind of extreme cold, then they definitely required some kind of special method to cultivate.
This involved someone else’s secret, so the old man decided not to press the issue further.
"In that case, we won’t disturb you any longer," he said with a sigh.
It was clear that he still felt reluctant about the potatoes, but in the end, he could only accept the situation and bid Steven farewell.
Whether trading a basket of mushrooms for a bowl of chicken soup was a fair deal or not, even the old man himself wasn’t entirely sure.
But one thing was certain—tonight, his wife would definitely nag him about it.
"Alright, I’ll walk you both back—and while I’m at it, I can get a look at the path to your village," Steven said.
After closing his door, he naturally fell into step behind them.
The deer-antlered girl, who had remained mostly silent, let out a small sigh.
Then, mimicking the old man’s actions, she poured her bowl of soup into a flask, before helping the old man start their journey home.
As for the idea of refusing Steven’s company—that was nothing more than wishful thinking on her part.
After all, since Steven lived in this area, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find the village on his own.
Rather than rejecting him outright and creating unnecessary hostility, it was probably smarter to just take him there directly.
Besides, if she was being honest with herself—Steven didn’t feel like a bad person.
His clothing was odd, sure, but from the beginning, he had been surprisingly easy to talk to.
Perhaps…
Grandpa was right—people who love farming are rarely bad people.
The moment she accepted this thought, her unease faded.
She was naturally cheerful, and now that she had sorted out her feelings, she felt more comfortable talking to Steven.
"By the way," she said, her voice gentle and friendly, "I still don’t know your name. How should I address you?"
She glanced at his back as he walked ahead of them, blocking the evening wind and sand so they wouldn’t have to endure it.
A small smile appeared on her lips.
"Just call me Steve," Steven responded casually.
Names weren’t particularly important to him—what really bothered him was their slow pace.
At this rate, how long would it take to actually reach the village?
Honestly, if it weren’t for basic politeness, he’d much rather have them just point out the exact location on a map.
Then, he could simply throw them into a boat and drag them there himself.
Simple. Efficient.
"I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Steve," the girl said with a bright smile.
"My name is Alina."
She spoke warmly, introducing herself with sincerity.
The old man, however, squinted his eyes, staring at Steven’s back.
Something had been bothering him for a while now.
Was it just his imagination, or was his neighbor’s head… a little too bright?
In fact, it seemed even brighter than the headlamps he used when working in the mines.
And more importantly…
Why did his head shape… kind of remind him of a pumpkin?
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Chapter 91: Chapter 91: He Is a Good Man
Chapter Text
Chapter 91: He Is a Good Man
The nights in Ursus were bitterly cold, and out here on the snow-covered tundra, the chill was even more relentless.
If not for the protection of his leather armor, Steven might have struggled against the freezing temperatures.
However, judging from the way the two people behind him were constantly tightening their thick winter clothes against the cold, it was clear that this was far from a comfortable environment.
What surprised Steven the most was that, despite these harsh conditions, a small village filled with signs of life actually existed so close by.
Even more unexpected—if he had simply chosen to explore a different direction earlier that day, he might have found it much sooner.
Steven scratched his head awkwardly, unsure of how to process this realization.
Once again, it seemed that his usual bad luck hadn’t changed.
"This is where you live?"
Seeing the soft yellow glow of lights in the distance, Steven finally relaxed.
At least now, he no longer needed to worry about a wild wolf or a hungry bear suddenly leaping out from the darkness to attack the two physically weak people trailing behind him.
Pointing toward the village, he asked his question.
"Yes," Alina nodded. "If you continue several dozen kilometers further ahead, you might eventually reach one of the mobile cities that stop here from time to time."
She then added, "But that route is mostly deserted, and with wild beasts roaming the area, it’s too dangerous to travel alone. Unless you’re with a trade caravan, I wouldn’t recommend going that way."
By now, Alina was fairly certain—Steven was indeed just a traveler interested in exploring the region.
So, she took the opportunity to point out the safest path to the nearest mobile city, knowing full well that someone like him was unlikely to stay put in that remote wooden cabin forever.
A simple reminder seemed necessary.
Though, truth be told, Alina had a strong feeling that Steven wouldn’t have much trouble dealing with wild animals.
After all, from the way he had been completely unbothered by any potential dangers along the way, it was obvious—
Steven was genuinely unafraid of these things.
"Thanks for the warning," Steven replied, scratching his head. "But for now, I don’t really have any plans to visit a mobile city. I’ll probably be staying in this area for a while."
Alina’s kindness was making him a bit unsure of how to respond.
She always spoke with such a warm and gentle smile, and each of her words was so thoughtful and considerate.
Honestly, it was making it hard for Steven to even joke around or tease her a little.
"You’re not coming in for a visit, lad?" the old man suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
"My wife makes some great bread, and if we pair it with the chicken soup you gave us, it’ll be a delicious meal. Besides, it’s already late—if you run into wolves on your way back, that could be troublesome."
Since Steven had been generous enough to share his chicken soup, the old man, not being stingy, naturally extended an invitation to his home.
He pointed toward a small, shabby wooden house at the edge of the village, where a light was still on, and welcomed Steven inside.
However, Steven had only come to check out the path leading to the village—nothing more.
And besides, visiting someone’s home this late at night felt a bit inappropriate.
He had no intention of being a bother.
"No need," Steven waved his hand dismissively. "It's not that far, and besides, I'm a strong guy. Hunting is practically my side job, so you don't need to worry about me. I'll come back tomorrow morning to see if there's anything in the village worth trading."
As long as he knew where the village was, his goal had already been achieved. As for staying for a while—he really couldn't bring himself to disturb people so late at night.
If this were a village in Minecraft, Steven would have long since rung a bell, casually browsing the villagers like shopping for groceries, picking out the best trades.
After bidding farewell to Alina and the old man, Steven turned and made his way back toward his cabin.
The village wasn't exactly small—it seemed to have at least a hundred households. But if he were to live there? Steven would honestly prefer his tiny wooden cabin.
Judging by the run-down houses and the simple clothing of Alina and the old man, this wasn't a particularly wealthy village. The living conditions were probably worse than the dorms at Rhodes Island, let alone his cozy little home with built-in Nether brick underfloor heating.
<+>
"He’s a pretty decent neighbor," the old man muttered as he watched Steven leave. "If only he wasn’t so stingy about sharing his farming techniques. It’s not like he’d lose anything by teaching us a little."
Seeing how Steven escorted them back, the old man was now even more convinced—this newcomer wasn’t a bad person.
The only thing he still couldn’t quite forget was the sight of those potatoes growing outside Steven’s cabin.
Meanwhile, Alina glanced helplessly at the old man beside her.
Honestly, it might have been a good thing that his eyesight wasn’t great.
If he had actually gotten a good look at Steven’s appearance, who knows if he would have still invited him into the village so casually?
Because in his current state, Steven looked eerily similar to some of the monsters from old Ursus folktales.
"I’ll be sure to tell Grandma everything you did today," Alina finally said after some thought.
She wasn’t sure how to scold this childish old man. After all, Steven wasn't actually a bad person, so criticizing him too much would feel unjustified.
But she definitely wasn’t going to cover for him when it came to the trouble he caused today.
"Go ahead and tell her! You think I’m afraid of her?" the old man huffed. "It’s just a basket of mushrooms! And I brought back a bottle of chicken soup for her too, didn’t I?"
His words sounded tough, but the way he instinctively shrank his neck made it clear—he wasn’t nearly as fearless as he claimed.
"Sure, sure," Alina sighed, shaking her head. Then, her voice turned serious.
"Bu, Grandpa, please stop going into that part of the forest. We were lucky that Mr. Steve happened to be a good person today, but if you ran into actual danger, we'd be really worried."
There was something strange about the direction Steven lived in.
According to the village hunters, the wild animals that once roamed that area had all disappeared for some unknown reason, and the hunters themselves avoided going there.
Unlike Steven, her Grandpa wasn’t strong—if something happened, he wouldn’t be able to escape.
The old man opened his mouth as if to argue, but before he could speak, he spotted two figures rushing out from the village to meet them.
At that moment, he wisely chose to stay quiet.
That might be true, but the declining harvests were an undeniable fact. If he hadn’t been trying to gather some wild mushrooms to trade for a bit of extra food, why would he have gone to such a place in the first place?
And with those so-called "Infected patrol squads" constantly raiding under the pretense of searching for the infected, life had only become more difficult.
Of course, everyone understood this reality all too well. There was no point in saying it out loud.
"Grandpa, you're finally back! Grandmother has been nagging my ears off!"
One of the two figures who had come to greet them—a lively young girl—immediately rushed forward from the old woman’s side. She enthusiastically took over supporting the elderly man from Alina and then whispered a complaint to him.
"You little troublemaker—just waiting for him to come back so you could tattle, huh?"
The elderly woman who had arrived a step later shot the girl a glare before huffing and handing a thick fur coat to her husband.
"You’re always causing trouble! Poor Alina had to drag you back just to apologize to that young man. And now what? You lost the mushrooms, and now you’ve given back the stuff you took—why did you even have to be so greedy in the first place? Weren’t you the one who said not to take other people’s things?"
Her words were full of complaints, but even as she scolded him, the old woman gently took his cold, withered hands and led him back toward their home, where the fireplace was still burning.
"Sorry, I was wrong," the old man admitted meekly—nowhere near as defiant as he had been earlier with Alina. But then he grinned sheepishly and added, "But my dear, that young man living out there—he’s actually a really decent guy. He even gave me something good. I’ll let you try it when we get home."
Still grinning, he lifted the flask in his arms to show her.
Meanwhile, Alina and the girl who had come to greet her walked side by side, watching the two old figures ahead of them—leaning against each other as they made their way home.
"You should’ve waited for me to come back first before going," Said the white-haired girl beside Alina, whose head was adorned with peculiar, curved horns.
Though her voice was tinged with complaint, there was also a trace of concern in it.
"What if you ran into danger?"
"I still believe that there are more kind-hearted people in this world than not. And that gentleman turned out to be just as I thought—he even helped bring Grandpa and me back home."
Alina cradled the still-warm flask in her arms, her smile growing wider at the thought of Steven—that strangely odd-headed yet incredibly friendly man.
"That’s only because your kindness made you lucky this time," the tall, elegant girl beside her sighed, rubbing her forehead as if she had already grown tired of these discussions. "But that doesn’t mean you'll always be so fortunate."
"Maybe," Alina replied lightly. "But then again, Talulah, weren’t you the one who secretly ran off to the city? If I hadn’t lost track of you, I wouldn’t have made that decision in the first place."
Calling out her companion's name, Alina subtly shifted the blame back onto her.
"Oh? So now it’s my fault?" Talulah raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "You're the one who made a mistake, yet you're pushing the responsibility onto me? Sounds like you’re quite unhappy with me, hmm?"
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she suddenly jabbed her slender fingers toward Alina’s waist.
"Ahh! Stop that!" Alina yelped, twisting away like a startled fawn.
"I just mean that if you're worried about me, you should also consider that I’m equally worried about you. At least I tell Grandma and the others what I’m doing. Can you honestly say what exactly you went to the city for?" Alina dodged Talulah’s playful attack with some difficulty and then answered seriously.
At that, Talulah fell silent.
What she had been doing… was not something she could share with these kind and innocent villagers.
"Anyway, back to your situation," she quickly changed the subject. "You said that this man actually went out of his way to bring you both back? And he didn’t even ask for any sort of compensation?"
She frowned slightly. "Is he a local from Ursus? As far as I remember, that area was nothing but a vast, barren snow field. Since when did a new resident pop up there?"
"No, he didn’t ask for anything," Alina replied, shaking her head. "He was very kind. If I had to say there was something strange about him…"
She trailed off, furrowing her brows in thought, then turned to Talulah with a puzzled expression.
"Do you know of any race on this land that has a glowing pumpkin as a head?"
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Chapter 92: Chapter 92: Won't You Get the Runs?
Chapter Text
Chapter 92: Won't You Get the Runs?
Back to Steven's side of the story—after returning home safely, he heated a pot of water, took a quick bath, and comfortably lay down on his pink wool bed.
There's nothing better than crashing into bed and falling asleep after a long day. Well, maybe playing on your phone for a bit first, but clearly, the technology in this world hasn't progressed enough to make a smartphone. So, Steven could only close his eyes and immediately drift off into dreamland.
Another dreamless, peaceful night passed. When Steven opened his eyes, it was, as usual, six o’clock the next morning.
There was no helping it—Minecrafter just had such a consistent routine.
He stretched lazily and sat up in bed.
Outside, apart from the howling cold wind, the usual sounds of early-rising operators and patients on Rhodes Island were absent, leaving Steven feeling a bit out of place.
It was as if he had returned to his once-lonely life in Minecraft.
Fortunately, it was just a feeling.
After a quick wash, Steven took out a carton of milk and paired it with a grilled steak.
He sat down to enjoy his breakfast, safe from the outside cold thanks to his underfloor heating.
At the same time, he was thinking about what he should do today—like maybe heading back to the village from before to trade for some local specialties.
Steven was quite confident in his baked potato skills. This simple and unpretentious food was precisely the sort of thing that would be in high demand in a remote, desolate village.
Actually, using more storable food like carrots might be even better, but then there was the risk of his exclusive crops being stolen.
“Maybe beef or pork would be a good idea? Meat might be more popular than starchy food, and I wouldn't have to worry about them reviving raw meat.”
Looking down at the half-eaten steak in his hand, Steven suddenly thought of a better option.
This way, he could also disguise himself as a hunter, which would make it easier to gain favor with the villagers.
As for what he could trade from the villagers, Steven didn’t really care. Some local specialties would be nice, but if not, gathering intel would be fine too.
At the very least, he could ask about things like that Collapsal or the mines.
This village seemed to have been around this area for quite some time—they should know if there were any mines nearby, right?
With his mind focused only on mining and leveling up, Steven quickly pushed the matter of the so-called "Stray Collapsal" to the back of his mind.
There was no way he would brave the harsh winds to wander the snowy fields just to search for that creature.
He was merely curious about it. There was no real grudge between him and the monster, and Steven had no desire to deal with it unless it conveniently delivered itself to his door.
If that happened, Steven might consider studying its anatomy and seeing what kind of loot it would drop.
And just as Steven decided what he would do for the day, there came a steady knocking on the large iron door at the entrance of his home.
Frowning, he glanced at the skylight and the heavy snow falling outside.
Steven couldn’t help but wonder who would visit him in such terrible weather.
Could it really be like he thought—the Collapsal had come straight to his door?
Opening the door with a sense of curiosity, Steven did not find a terrifying monster baring its fangs and claws, eager to devour him alive. Instead, standing before him was a somewhat familiar girl, and behind her, another young woman dressed in an elegant, sharply contrasting formal outfit.
"Uh... Aren't you cold dressed like that?"
Before the visitors could say anything, Steven spoke first, throwing out a rather blunt question.
The wind and snow outside were intense, yet this girl was wearing such thin clothing. Was she not afraid of catching a cold? Or was this the legendary "fashion over function" mentality?
"Eh? Mr. Steve, we’ve come to visit you."
Since Steven had not put on his peculiar pumpkin head, Alina didn't recognize him at first.
If not for his familiar voice, she might have thought he was someone else living with the pumpkin-headed man
After all, yesterday, Steven's pumpkin head had looked almost like it was part of his body—so lifelike it was hard to believe it was just an external helmet.
"I know, but she still hasn't answered me. Isn't she worried about catching a cold and getting, uh, the runs?"
Steven nodded, showing no intention of hiding his face. The pumpkin helmet was just for fun anyway. Even if someone saw his face, what could they do? Accuse him of being a murderer or something?
What he cared about more was the answer to his question.
"I have a strong constitution. There’s no need for you to worry about me, sir."
The girl behind Alina—Tallulah—couldn’t help but twitch the corner of her mouth. Steven’s out-of-the-blue question left her unsure of how to respond.
"Well, you’d better be careful. If you don’t keep warm in such cold weather, your stomach will be the one to suffer."
Steven, who had learned this lesson the hard way, nodded seriously.
Since becoming a Minecrafter, he didn’t feel the cold much anymore. But back when he was just a regular gamer, catching a chill often meant his bathroom would bear the brunt of it.
"..."
"Can we talk about serious matters, Mr. Steve? I’d like to get to know you properly and also express my gratitude for helping my friend return yesterday."
Her smiling face nearly broke under the strain of keeping composed. Tallulah took a deep breath before finally stating her purpose for the visit.
"Oh, then come in. It’s quite cold outside. You might be able to handle it, but I’m not sure about Alina. Girls need to take extra care to keep warm."
Steven stepped aside, allowing the two girls to enter. Only then did he notice the strange black horns on the lightly dressed girl’s head—horns that defied any animal Steven knew of.
If he had to describe them, these branched, antler-like horns reminded him of the kind seen on dragons from Western tales.
After all, when he wore the Ender Dragon head, the horns on it looked somewhat similar.
"So, what brings you here? Is it just a verbal 'thank you'?"
His small matchbox-like room offered little in terms of seating. Other than his small bed, there seemed to be nowhere else to sit. After a moment's thought, Steven performed a little "magic trick," pulling two wooden stumps out of thin air and setting them down as makeshift chairs.
As for himself, he naturally sat back down on his bed, looking at his unexpected guests with a curious expression.
Just as he had pointed out, Alina's hands were empty. As for the girl with the strange horns, she was even more extreme—she was holding a long sword with a rather peculiar design.
This didn’t look like a visit to express gratitude. If anything, it seemed more like they had come to violently collect a debt.
"No, actually, it was my own decision to meet Alina’s... somewhat strange neighbor. And now that I see you, it seems you’re even stranger than she described."
Under Steven’s puzzled gaze, the sword-wielding girl set her sword aside. After examining him with a subtle and curious expression, she finally stated her purpose for the visit.
She didn’t bother hiding her confusion over Steven’s odd behavior.
It was clear to her that the black-haired, black-eyed young man before her was definitely not a local of Ursus. However, even with the thorough education she had received, she still couldn’t determine Steven’s race based on his appearance.
A race without any distinguishing features... The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like only the Aegirians from the records fit the description. But that was a race from the coastal nations—what was someone like that doing in Ursus, a landlocked frontier region?
Moreover, Steven’s appearance seemed closer to the Yan people from Ursus’ neighboring country.
But more than his appearance, what truly piqued the girl’s curiosity was his calm demeanor—even when facing someone armed.
This either meant he was a carefree, naive person with no sense of danger, or he had the strength to easily handle her if needed.
The girl preferred to believe it was the latter.
After all, the confident composure he showed was even more apparent than the old man she held in high regard.
"Am I? I think I’m pretty normal. Oh, right, would you like a cup of hot water? My place is small, so I don’t have much to offer."
Steven scratched his head. Being called a weirdo didn’t bother him; after all, they were only speaking the truth. He had never denied it—he was, indeed, a bit of an oddball, inside and out.
He walked over to the brewing stand in the corner of the room. After igniting the blaze powder inside to heat the three bottles of clean water on top, Steven turned around and gave the cautious girl a smile.
"I don’t think I caught your name yet. But before that, can I ask you a question?"
"You can call me Talulah. As for your question, go ahead."
The girl named Talulah frowned, suddenly worried that Steven might ask another bizarre question like the one he said earlier.
Fortunately, this time, his question was slightly more serious.
"Are you a dragon?"
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Chapter 93: Chapter 93: I Can't Do That!
Chapter Text
Chapter 93: I Can't Do That!
"Dragon?"
The girl who called herself Talulah furrowed her brow and instinctively grabbed the longsword she had placed to the side.
The identity of the Draco race was a sensitive matter, but at the same time, the fact that someone could identify her species just by looking at her horns suggested that this person might know something.
Otherwise, Talulah wouldn't have kept her horns exposed all this time—this was, in a way, a sign of her confidence in her own identity.
At least among the people she had met in Ursus, no one should have been able to recognize her species so directly.
But now, Steven had asked this crucial question right to her face, making it hard for Talulah not to think that his objective was her.
Ever since that person died, no one had come looking for her. She had hoped that the upper echelons of Ursus had forgotten about the matter, but now it seemed that they had sent someone after all.
Subconsciously classifying Steven as someone sent to investigate her, Talulah tightened her grip on the longsword.
If it were just her being taken away, that would be one thing, but if it brought harm to Alina and the peaceful little village nearby, that was something she did not want to see.
"Yes— Oh, I remember now. To be precise, your kind should be called Draco, right? Like this thing."
Steven thought for a moment, then pulled out a picture of an Ender Dragon from his inventory and pointed to it.
His expression was just shy of shoving the picture into Talulah's face and asking if this was her.
"Uh... Is this what you think a Draco should look like?"
Talulah, who had been on the verge of losing control and ready to defend against any sudden attack, now showed a hint of confusion in her wary eyes when she saw the picture in Steven's hand.
Did this guy have some kind of misunderstanding about Draco? Although the dragon in the picture did share some traits with the Draco race, it was still uncertain whether such a creature even existed on this land.
"Isn't it supposed to look like this? You can't transform into this form?"
Steven scratched his head. He had thought that since the race was based on a legendary creature like a dragon, it should at least come with a cool "transformation into its original form." But from the looks of it, the appearance was fixed from the start, with no epic transformation involved.
It's a good thing Kal'tsit wasn't around to hear Steven say that, or she definitely would have taken the opportunity to educate this brain-dead guy that normal creatures simply couldn't violate the laws of evolution to do things like transforming.
Not to mention the whole human-to-dragon thing, which just sounded completely off the rails.
"I may be of the Draco race as you say, but the thing you're describing? I don’t think anyone could possibly do that."
Talulah's confusion only deepened as she looked at Steven, but for this very reason, her previous wariness had lessened.
Every time this guy opened his mouth, it was with something unexpected, but the key was that he genuinely seemed to be asking her, not just trying to distract her.
And more importantly, from beginning to end, Steven had not shown even the slightest hint of hostility toward her.
Would the upper echelons of Ursus really send someone so unreliable to deal with her?
Talulah began to doubt her own judgment, continuing to look at Steven with a puzzled expression.
"Mr. Steve, why are you asking about this? Is my race that important to you?"
Narrowing her silver eyes, Talulah straightforwardly voiced her doubts. Instead of beating around the bush, it was better to directly ask him his intentions.
"Huh? Not really. I just might need your help with something later, but there's no rush. I was just trying to confirm it. After all, a friend of mine mentioned that it's quite hard to find a Draco nowadays."
Still caught up in his disappointment over the lack of a cool dragon transformation, Steven finally came to his senses.
He returned Talulah's question with a friendly smile before turning to his brewing stand behind him.
He took down three bottles of hot water that had been boiling inside.
"That's really all I wanted to ask. So, Miss Talulah, perhaps you could share your intentions as well? I doubt you came all this way just to apologize, right?"
He placed the still-warm glass bottles in front of Talulah and Alina. Steven himself picked up one of the bottles, looking quite content as he held it in his hands.
On a cold day like this, drinking a cup of hot water was truly a pleasure.
"That was the most important matter, but I won't deny it—I do have a few other things I wanted to confirm."
Talulah glanced at the two odd glass bottles emitting steam.
Though she showed no intention of touching them, Alina beside her picked up one of the bottles, mimicking Steven and savoring the warmth in her hands.
"Confirm what? Something related to me?"
Taking a small sip of the still-hot water, Steven tilted his head, looking genuinely puzzled about what someone like him could have to do with their inquiries.
They seemed like two completely unrelated worlds. Could it be that Alina had fallen in love with him at first sight?
He exchanged a look with the gentle-eyed Elafia girl who had been silently listening to their conversation. Steven quickly dismissed that thought, figuring his charm probably wasn't that extraordinary.
"Yes, after all, having a neighbor with a glowing pumpkin for a head makes it hard not to think of the legends about the headless specter on the snowy plains. But looking at you now, it seems I was overthinking things."
Talulah took another glance at Steven.
His hair might have been a bit messy and unkempt, but it couldn't hide his handsome features. She then smiled as she responded to him.
From what she could tell, aside from his odd personality and offbeat way of speaking, Steven didn't exhibit anything resembling an evil spirit—let alone the glowing pumpkin head that Alina had described.
Of course, no normal person would have such a twisted sense of humor as to wear—
Before Talulah could finish her thought, Steven scratched his head, and then—without any clear indication of how he did it—the handsome young man standing before her suddenly had his head replaced by a grinning, glowing, warm-yellow pumpkin.
"You mean this?"
The pumpkin head tilted slightly, and Steven's voice came from within the eerie grin.
"Th-this..."
Talulah was completely stunned, her whole body stiffening as she slowly turned her head to exchange a look with Alina.
"See? I told you it was weird. You just wouldn't believe me."
The Elafia girl, no longer surprised by this oddity, shrugged nonchalantly, as if to say, "That's just how it is."
Yesterday, when Alina told Talulah about the eerie pumpkin head, she described how it was impossible to discern the source of the light within it. What was even more unsettling was how the pumpkin head seemed to grow directly out of Steven's neck, and it could even show subtle expressions.
She knew how absurd this sounded, but it was the truth.
"It's really just a helmet, you know. When you're out and about, you've got to have some kind of disguise or protection, right? Gotta keep a low profile. You’ll get used to it."
Steven tapped the pumpkin on his head, producing a crisp "thunk thunk" sound, and then smiled warmly as he explained.
He had thought they wanted to verify something serious, but it turned out they were just worried about whether he was actually a human or not.
On second thought, Steven realized their concern made sense. His appearance certainly didn’t scream "normal human."
"…"
Faced with Steven’s seemingly joking answer, Talulah found herself at a loss for how to respond.
The strangest part was that she could easily tell he was likely being completely honest.
After being trained for years by Kashchey as his potential successor, Talulah had become quite adept at reading people. But even so, she found herself increasingly unable to understand what on earth Steven was thinking.
If he truly wanted to conceal his appearance and stay low-key, wouldn’t it have been enough just to wear a hood and cover his face? How could wearing such an eye-catching pumpkin helmet be considered "low profile"?
"So, that's all you wanted to ask me? Nothing else?"
Steven realized continuing this topic would only make things more awkward, so he decisively changed the subject.
"If there’s something else… Well, actually, I came to ask you again, Mr. Steve, if you’re really not willing to sell those potatoes? Compared to the villagers, I can offer you a much better deal."
Talulah cleared her throat to ease the awkwardness and didn’t forget her real reason for coming.
Unlike Alina and the old man, she understood the true significance of a potato that could thrive in such a harsh environment.
This crop could potentially transform the lives of all the lower-class farmers throughout Ursus.
She had already noticed it at the door—the potatoes that remained lush and vibrant even in the wind and snow looked more like a magical creation than an ordinary crop.
"Huh? You're asking about that too? I already said no. Just think of it this way: the reason those potatoes grow so well is tied to my Originium Arts. In short, it's not something that can be easily mass-produced."
Steven, the master of lies, showed no hint of guilt as he spoke of this.
After all, what he said was technically true.
At least without his approval, mass-producing and distributing those potatoes would not be an easy task.
"Of course, if you want the baked ones, I've got plenty of those."
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Chapter 94: Chapter 94: Double "Good Guy" Cards Received
Chapter Text
Chapter 94: Double "Good Guy" Cards Received
"Baked ones..."
"Alright then, Mr. Steve, what exactly do you need?"
Steven's explanation wasn’t unreasonable, and Talulah could understand his reasoning.
His potatoes likely had some sort of special enhancement, just as he had claimed.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have planted them so openly outside.
Of course, if she knew that Steven was planning to move all those potatoes underground in a little while, she might have thought differently.
"Hmm... If I said what I want most is Originium, would you be able to provide it?"
Removing the glowing pumpkin from his head—it obstructed his view—Steven rubbed his chin and looked at the girl in front of him.
Unlike Alina, who dressed like a simple village girl, this one looked more like a noble from some town.
"Originium?"
Hearing that word, Talulah's brows furrowed slightly.
That was not something to be taken lightly.
While Originium was indeed valuable, it also came with significant risks.
Generally, individuals had little use for it—more often than not, it was large corporations or organizations that sought it out.
Yet, the young man standing before her wasn’t even an Infected, let alone someone who seemed to have any reason to use Originium.
And to top it off, he was asking for it in this poverty-stricken village?
Was he mistaken about something?
"Mr. Steve, does that seem like something the people of this village would have? Also, engaging in unauthorized Originium transactions is strictly prohibited by Ursus law."
Narrowing her eyes, Talulah couldn’t help but wonder if Steven was testing her.
"Huh? That’s illegal?"
Steven scratched his head in mild distress.
As a self-proclaimed law-abiding citizen, he had no intention of committing any crimes.
"Not only is it illegal, but it could also attract the attention of the Infected patrol squad. I assume, Mr. Steve, that you know what the Infected are?"
Private Originium transactions didn’t just harm a nation’s interests—they also carried a high risk of spreading Oripathy.
Because of this, not just Ursus, but most countries on this land had laws banning the illegal trade of Originium.
Yet, the man before her seemed completely unaware of that fact?
Talulah was growing more and more curious about Steven's identity.
"Huh? The Infected? Of course, I know about them—people infected with Oripathy, right?"
Steven nodded.
In fact, he didn’t just know about them—he was quite possibly the only person who could truly cure Oripathy.
Of course, he had zero intention of revealing that fact.
Just like how he also knew that the two girls standing before him were deliberately hiding their own infected status.
As Kal'tsit had mentioned before, it seemed like everyone in this world was struggling with this strange disease.
Even in a remote, poverty-stricken village like this, it was impossible to escape its grasp.
The people of Terra truly lived harsh lives.
"Then you should be aware of the dangers associated with Originium. So, why exactly do you want to trade for it?"
Talulah knew that directly asking this question was a bit of an intrusion into Steven's personal affairs, but she felt it was necessary if she was to determine whether he was trustworthy or not.
After all, Originium had always been a highly sensitive subject.
"Probably... for research? You see, I'm sort of a barefoot doctor. Have you heard of Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals? I'm actually an intern operator there, and I happened to need some Originium for my studies."
After the thing with Rhodes Island, Steven figured calling himself a temporary operator wasn’t exactly a lie. Kal'tsit would probably happily endorse that claim anyway.
And researching EMC points was still research, right? Nobody said doctors were only allowed to study medicine.
"You... a doctor?"
Talulah gave Steven a once-over with a very skeptical look.
From head to toe, nothing about him screamed “doctor” to her.
If anything, he looked more like a butcher.
"Yeah. For example, you and Alina over there—though you’ve both hidden it well, I could tell at a glance that you’re Infected, right?"
Putting down the now-empty water bottle in his hand, Steven casually gestured toward Talulah and Alina, revealing something they hadn’t even known about each other.
In that instant, the smile on Alina’s face faltered.
She had hidden it so well.
How did this man see through it?
And more importantly—Talulah was also Infected?
She had never mentioned that to her.
Locking eyes with Talulah, Alina found herself staring into the same look of shock she wore herself.
Talulah looked just as surprised—she hadn’t known Alina was an Infected either.
"Alina, you too...?"
"Before my father passed, he worked in the mines. I used to bring him meals all the time... There was no avoiding it, was there?"
Sighing in resignation, Alina decided to answer Talulah’s unspoken question.
She knew that if she didn’t explain, Talulah wouldn’t let it go.
Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t glaring at Steven now.
If he hadn’t suddenly brought this up, she could’ve kept it hidden for much longer.
Talulah exhaled deeply, slowly coming to terms with the situation.
Alina was right—Infection was always a risk for commoners like them.
That was exactly why she refused to accept the segregation between the Infected and the uninfected.
It was why she fought—to give the Infected the justice they deserved.
With another deep breath, Talulah finally accepted the truth.
There was no undoing Oripathy.
Once infected, there was no going back.
But now, she was even more intrigued by Steven.
His ability to identify both of them at a glance was indeed something a doctor might be capable of...
But something about him felt off.
Not in a sinister way—she didn’t think he had any ill intent.
But the way he knew their status…
That was not something a normal doctor should be able to do.
Meanwhile, Steven could only respond to her scrutinizing gaze with a sheepish smile.
It wasn’t like he could just say he saw their names floating above their heads, complete with status effects in brackets.
Speaking of which, he was actually pretty curious about the [Black Snake (Unawakened)] status tag next to Talulah’s name…
He had originally assumed that once this awakening happened, Talulah would turn into the kind of dragon girl he had imagined.
But after hearing her response, Steven was now completely confused about what this status even meant.
Was she some kind of Bloodline user like those in Naruto? She has some pseudo-Tailed Beast named Black Snake inside of her?
Given how big their reaction had been when he simply pointed out their Infected status, Steven figured it was probably for the best not to bring this up as well.
Talulah probably wouldn't want people knowing about it anyway. After all, being sick wasn’t something anyone would willingly share unless absolutely necessary.
"Come on, don't look at me like that. Even if I hadn’t said anything, you two would’ve figured it out sooner or later. I just gave you a head start in understanding each other better—isn't that a good thing?"
Steven shrugged.
The way Talulah just stared at him in silence was honestly making him a little uncomfortable.
"You have a point, Mr. Steve," Talulah finally spoke, her tone calm but thoughtful. "Even so, we still can’t provide you with Originium. This village simply doesn’t have any. And more importantly, Mr. Steve, aren’t you even a little afraid of us? Now that you know we’re Infected, it’s not normal for someone to remain as calm as you are."
Talulah was genuinely curious.
Most people in Ursus would either fear or discriminate against Infected individuals. The fact that Steven continued to treat them as just normal people was highly unusual.
"Huh? Why would I be scared? The Infected are still people, aren't they? What’s there to be afraid of?"
Steven scratched his head, genuinely puzzled by Talulah’s question.
It was just Oripathy, right?
Setting aside the fact that he could literally cure it with a bucket of milk, even if there were no treatment, Kal'tsit had already explained that as long as the Originium inside an Infected wasn’t activated, they weren’t contagious and weren’t much different from regular people.
So why the hell would he be scared?
It wasn’t like he was about to sleep in the same bed as these two girls or anything.
"Mr. Steve, is that truly how you see things?"
Talulah stared directly into Steven’s eyes, her silver pupils almost as if trying to peer into his very soul.
But soon, a genuine smile spread across her delicate face.
"Then I think we can become great friends. Just as Alina said—Mr. Steve, you really are a good person. Your personality is just… a little strange."
She extended her hand toward him, finally offering him her recognition for the first time.
Talulah hadn't seen a hint of hesitation in Steven’s response, and that alone told her that, in his eyes, there was no difference between Infected and non-Infected.
"Wait, hold up. You’re giving me a ‘good guy card’ while calling me weird? You seriously think that’s a compliment?"
Steven rolled his eyes.
What kind of person insulted someone with a smile like that?!
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Chapter 95: Chapter 95: A True Man Knows When to Yield and When to Stand Tall
Chapter Text
Chapter 95: A True Man Knows When to Yield and When to Stand Tall
Steven had no idea why, but the moment he answered Talulah’s last question, her attitude toward him suddenly improved significantly.
Not just her—even Alina, who had already been acting gentle and kind, now looked at him with an even softer expression.
What the hell?
Had these two finally realized how handsome he was? Were they swooning over his overwhelming charm?
"Putting aside whether or not we make a deal, at the very least, I’d like to get along with you as a neighbor, Mr. Steve. However, there is something I’d like to ask of you."
Retracting the appreciative gaze she had just given him, Talulah blinked a few times, her expression returning to normal as she made her request.
"You want me to keep your Infected status a secret, right? Yeah, I already figured as much. I may be a fake barefoot doctor, but I still have some professional ethics, you know? Besides, if your infection ever worsens, you can always come to me—I happen to be quite good at treating this stuff. Just so you know, though, I won’t be giving any discounts."
Steven cut her off before she could even finish, making it clear he understood what she wanted.
Honestly, compared to some scumbag doctors out there, he figured his medical ethics were far superior.
After all, when he said he could cure Oripathy, he meant it—no tricks, no scams.
"Mhm, thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Steve. It means a lot that you understand. If our identities as Infected were exposed, it would undoubtedly cause us a great deal of trouble."
Talulah’s smile remained unwavering, her trust in Steven growing stronger.
His words and actions made it clear—he was not the type to break his word lightly.
"Alright, alright, drop the ‘Mr. Steve’ thing. You’re making me sound like some stiff, old-fashioned guy. Just ‘Steve’ is fine. Not too hard to pronounce, right?"
"Then, Steve… Why don’t you go into the village yourself and talk to the villagers about what you need? I’m sure your potatoes will be very popular. As for what you can trade them for, well… that’s up to you."
Talulah had no intention of being overly polite about it. She quickly adjusted the way she addressed him and got straight to the point.
If not for their conversation helping her understand his character, she would never have allowed an outsider like him to simply walk into the village.
After all, who could guarantee he wasn’t hiding some ulterior motive?
But now, Talulah was willing to trust him—just as he was willing to trust the Infected.
"Perfect. You two heading back now? Not much point in me staying home any longer, so I might as well go trade for some stuff. Hmm… how about I walk you two back while I’m at it? The snow’s getting pretty heavy out here."
As he spoke, Steven casually grabbed a backpack from the corner of the room and slung it over his shoulder.
Then, after securing his signature glowing pumpkin helmet onto his head, he finally turned back to the two rather frail-looking girls.
Though, considering how Talulah could effortlessly lift that massive black sword, she was probably far from being a delicate girl.
But that had nothing to do with his decision to act like a gentleman, right?
Besides, he was planning to go to the village anyway—this was just on the way.
Talulah nodded, then picked up the cup of hot water that Steven had set on the table for her.
Though it had long since cooled, she drank it all in one go before standing up alongside Alina.
The two of them then followed Steven out the door.
The wind and snow outside were still heavy, and Steven couldn’t help but wonder how these two had managed to make their way through such a storm so early in the morning.
But when he turned his head for a glance, he saw something peculiar—a faint, invisible heat seemed to surround Talulah, causing the snowflakes that got close to her to evaporate instantly before even touching her.
Not only that, but she even had enough energy to extend this effect to Alina, shielding her as well.
For her, this wasn’t a treacherous snowy mountain trek—it was no more than a leisurely autumn stroll.
No wonder she could dress so lightly while still looking elegant. With an ability like that, she’d never need to turn on a heater in the winter.
“Just a little alternative use of Originium Arts.”
Talulah, noticing Steven’s gaze, smiled and offered an explanation, as if answering his earlier question.
Steven had to admit—he was a bit envious of her ability.
Originium Arts didn’t seem as useless as he had initially thought.
At the very least, it was quite handy for everyday situations like this.
Meanwhile, he himself had no way to deal with the snowflakes falling on his head or the chilly wind blowing against him. It didn’t actually bother him physically, but still—he had to admit, he was losing major style points here.
“Actually, now that I think about it, I have an even bigger question.”
Steven smacked his lips as if something had just occurred to him. The envy in his eyes faded slightly.
“Hmm?”
“So, yeah, this is super convenient for winter and all, but… don’t you get insanely hot in summer? This thing doesn’t have a built-in temperature control system, right? Wouldn’t you overheat?”
“Huh?”
Talulah’s smile froze mid-expression. She genuinely hadn’t expected Steven’s mind to work the way it did.
What kind of person would even think to ask that? Was this really a normal question?!
“Pfft~ Well, Talulah really isn’t great at dealing with summer, actually.”
Alina, who had been mostly quiet, suddenly covered her mouth with a giggle before playfully spilling some of her friend’s secrets to Steven.
The more she interacted with him, the more interesting she found him to be.
Compared to the boys in the village, he had more energy, more imagination—qualities that she had only ever seen in Talulah, another outsider like him.
“I knew it! There’s no way something this convenient wouldn’t have at least some drawbacks.”
Steven nodded in satisfaction, his glowing pumpkin-head helmet making the scene look even more ridiculous.
“What are you laughing at?” Talulah scoffed, rolling her eyes. “At least we don’t have to trudge through this snow, while a certain someone is out here suffering in the cold.”
“If he were willing to say a few nice words to me, I wouldn’t mind expanding my field a little—let him enjoy the warmth as well.”
Talulah was not someone with an overly serious personality.
On the contrary, having lacked much interaction with her peers for a long time, she genuinely enjoyed the current atmosphere of playful banter.
It felt just like the teasing that happens between close friends.
"Ahem! Lady Talulah, you are so kind, so adorable, and oh-so-beautiful! A magnanimous person like you surely wouldn’t hold a grudge over such trivial matters against someone as ordinary as myself, right?"
"Surely, you wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave a weak and pitiful young man like me to suffer in the freezing cold, right?"
Steven had no sense of shame whatsoever. The moment Talulah finished speaking, he had already assumed the posture of a sycophant, pouring an over-the-top stream of compliments on the girl before him.
“You… don’t you feel even a little guilty saying all that?”
Talulah was completely taken aback—this was a first for her.
She had never met anyone like Steven before.
At first, he had given off the air of a mysterious and reclusive master, someone with profound knowledge and hidden depths. Even putting personality aside, the natural pressure he exuded made her feel no less intimidated than when standing before that old man.
And yet—just look at him now.
His behavior was so unpredictable that she truly couldn’t make sense of him.
“Why would I feel guilty? I’m just stating the truth. Now hurry up and put a shield on me too! I wanna see what it feels like to have my own personal heater.”
Steven showed not the slightest bit of embarrassment. Instead, he eagerly urged Talulah to share her ability with him.
Something this cool and convenient—he had to experience it firsthand.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t actually seen many people use Originium Arts before.
Those Iberian Inquisitors? They mostly relied on their lamps.
Rhodes Island? Even worse—they hadn’t even fought him before, so he had no idea what they were capable of.
The only real display he had witnessed was from that operator named Frostleaf, who had frozen an entire room when she was on the brink of death.
But someone using Originium Arts as creatively as Talulah? That was a first.
“Tch, you really have no shame, huh?”
Talulah let out a helpless sigh, but she didn’t actually refuse him.
After all, he had already flattered her so much—even if his words were mostly just exaggerations, it wasn’t like she could just take them back.
She didn’t even make any noticeable movements—she simply stepped slightly closer to Steven, and just like that, the warm aura surrounding her expanded, enveloping him as well.
The chilling wind and falling snow? Completely blocked out.
Feeling warm and cozy all over, Steven scratched his head through his pumpkin helmet.
This ability… was seriously convenient.
And the cool factor? Completely maintained.
“Hey, is this something you can teach? How long would it take to learn?”
Following his philosophy of “If someone else has it, why shouldn’t I?”, Steven immediately turned toward Talulah with a serious expression.
Time and cost didn’t matter.
He just really wanted this effect.
At the very least, he’d never have to worry about heating in winter again.
Talulah responded with a roll of her eyes—she had no intention of answering that question.
But before their playful conversation could continue, the lighthearted atmosphere came to an abrupt halt.
All three of them stopped in their tracks, their expressions turning serious as their gazes locked onto a group of figures standing at the entrance of the village.
Clad in heavy military coats and windproof masks, these men clearly weren’t locals.
“Oh? Now they don’t look like villagers.”
Steven squinted at the well-equipped group, and a sly grin spread across his face.
He had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.
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Chapter 96: Chapter 96: Originium Arts
Chapter Text
Chapter 96: Originium Arts
“It’s the Infected Patrol Squad… What’s going on? Didn’t they just come by a few days ago? Why are they back again?”
Even Alina, who always maintained a gentle and composed smile, couldn't help but furrow her brows.
The slight discontent in her tone made it clear—this so-called Infected Patrol Squad didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation.
“Hah, these bloodsuckers only know how to oppress civilians. I’d bet the last round of tribute didn’t satisfy them, so they’ve come back for another round of looting.”
Compared to Alina’s still somewhat polite wording, Talulah had no intention of hiding her disgust for these people.
The undisguised hostility in her gaze was so intense that Steven even wondered if she was about to draw her sword and cut them down on the spot.
How bad could this Infected Patrol Squad’s reputation be?
What exactly had they done to make these two girls hate them so much?
Steven was curious, but just as he was about to move forward and get a closer look at the drama, Talulah reached out and stopped him.
“You’re new here, an outsider. It’s best if you don’t show yourself in front of these people. Even though you’re not Infected, these rabid dogs don’t care about logic once they go wild.”
Talulah gave him a serious warning.
She knew better than anyone what kind of scum these people were.
Taking care of this group alone wasn’t difficult—but the real problem was Ursus’s government standing behind them.
Steven’s cabin was built far away, so there was a good chance these thugs wouldn’t find it.
But if they did… things would get ugly fast.
They weren’t reasonable people like her.
The moment they set their sights on his potatoes and supplies, they would simply take them—it didn’t matter how he had grown them or who he was affiliated with.
To them, anything they wanted was already theirs.
“Huh? You’re telling me they wouldn’t even spare an honest, law-abiding citizen like me? Are they bandits or what?”
From how well-dressed these people were, Steven had assumed they were some sort of official Ursus personnel.
But after hearing the way Talulah and Alina talked about them, something felt off.
Rather than an official enforcement group, they sounded more like a bunch of raiders.
“You can think of them that way.”
“They’re just a gang of thieves hiding behind the excuse of ‘investigating the Infected.’ There’s no real difference.”
Talulah’s voice was cold.
Steven had never seen her this way before.
But if they were just bandits, then…
Wouldn’t killing them be considered "defending the village"?
Would that give him the [Hero of the Village] buffs?
Maybe it would even allow him to gain some nice discounts when trading for supplies?
Steven rubbed his chin, his Minecrafter mindset kicking in.
But after glancing above his head and not seeing a raid progress bar, he let out a disappointed sigh.
Yeah… figures.
The villagers in Minecraft had those big noses and were hardly normal humans to begin with.
If this were a real Minecraft village, there should at least be a bell somewhere, right?
And besides—like Talulah said—dealing with this group wouldn’t be the hard part.
The real problem was the Ursus government’s retaliation.
Now that… would be a pain to deal with.
"So as long as I don’t get caught, I can go watch the fun, right?"
After thinking it over, Steven decided that he wouldn't cause trouble for these two girls. However, the idea of just going home to sleep instead of watching the chaos unfold was completely out of the question.
“Watch the fun? Do you have any idea how difficult these people are to deal with? And how exactly do you plan on not getting caught?”
Talulah was starting to admire Steven’s way of thinking—if he really was a doctor, then she could only suggest that he treat his own brain first.
"That’s right, Mr. Steve. For your own safety, there’s no need to provoke them at a time like this."
Alina also tried to sincerely persuade him. She didn't want to see a good person like Steven being bullied by those people.
"Relax, relax. Stealth is my specialty."
Steven waved a hand dismissively. Then, as if to prove his point, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a small glass bottle that glowed with an eerie sky-blue light.
Under Talulah and Alina’s confused gazes, he downed it in one gulp.
The next second—
A soft puff of blue bubbles floated into the air.
And Steven, who had been standing right there, suddenly vanished into thin air.
“?!”
Talulah’s eyes widened in shock.
She had been watching Steven the entire time—but somehow, she had no idea how he disappeared.
If not for their close proximity, which allowed her to faintly sense that Steven was still there, she might have believed she was hallucinating.
Compared to Talulah, who could at least tell that Steven had used some kind of ability to hide himself, Alina was completely stunned.
To her, this wasn’t some clever trick—this was magic.
"M-Mr. Steve? Are you still here?"
Alina covered her mouth with both hands, barely stopping herself from letting out a startled scream.
Then, with cautious movements, she reached out and began feeling around where Steven had just been standing.
"Yeah, I’m still here. Also, could you stop touching me? That’s my chest—it's kinda ticklish."
Steven’s disembodied voice floated in the air.
"Ah?! S-Sorry!"
Alina snapped her hand back instantly, her face turning a shade redder than the setting sun.
But at the same time—
Her curiosity and amazement only deepened.
Steven was still standing there?!
How did he do this?!
Talulah narrowed her eyes and cut straight to the point.
“You… what exactly did you just do?”
"Just a little something from my special Originium Arts."
"Come on, I’m a doctor—knowing how to mix up a few special potions is totally normal, right?"
Steven’s voice came from the empty space.
The unsettling feeling of knowing someone was right there, yet being unable to see them, made Talulah furrow her brows.
She was glad that Steven wasn’t their enemy.
And even more so that he really did seem to be just a wandering traveler.
Because if someone with this kind of frightening ability had chosen to become an assassin instead…
The consequences would be terrifying.
The ability to turn invisible might seem like a low-tier, situational power at first glance. However, if one thinks it through, it quickly becomes clear just how terrifyingly effective it can be in practical applications.
As for Steven’s claim that this was just his special Originium Art, Talulah could only pretend to believe it.
After all, she couldn’t sense even the faintest trace of Originium energy from him.
But if he insisted on calling it Originium Arts, what choice did she have but to go along with it?
After all, Originium Arts was a bottomless pit—people could shove just about anything into that category.
"So now, I shouldn’t have to worry about those guys seeing me, right? I can just go along with you two and see what they’re really up to?"
Steven’s excited voice came from directly in front of Talulah.
It was obvious that he had no intention of missing out on this spectacle.
“I really don’t understand why you’re so interested in something that has absolutely nothing to do with you. But if you really want to watch, we have no reason to stop you, do we?”
Talulah let out a helpless sigh.
She had only tried to stop Steven earlier because she was concerned for his safety. But now, that worry seemed entirely unnecessary.
Come to think of it, even if this guy wasn’t invisible, those so-called Infected Patrol Guards probably wouldn’t have been able to do much to him anyway.
“Eh, that’s where you’re wrong. Have you ever heard the old saying?”
Steven’s cheerful voice carried a hint of amusement.
“Since I’m already here, how could I possibly leave empty-handed?”
He didn’t sound even the slightest bit concerned about the Infected Patrol Guards.
On the contrary, he made it sound like this was all just a game, and he was simply a player enjoying the experience.
“I don’t want to respond to that… But if you’re really going to do this, just make sure you don’t get caught. Otherwise, it’ll cause trouble for the village, and that’d be a real headache.”
Talulah chose to seriously warn him instead of arguing.
Steven might be invisible, meaning he wouldn’t be seen by the patrol guards.
But still, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t pull some weird stunt.
Because Steven…
Well, his way of thinking was a little too unique.
"Of course, of course. I already said I’m just here to watch the fun. Being an observer is incredibly entertaining, and besides—doesn’t that mean I can help protect Alina, too?"
Steven chuckled.
Even though he was nowhere to be seen, Alina could somehow tell that he had shifted closer to her.
“Actually… it doesn’t feel all that unsafe anymore.”
For some reason, now that Steven was invisible, Alina felt a little embarrassed.
Not being able to see him made it feel like he was right beside her, watching her the whole time.
She didn’t quite know how to describe it.
"Relax, relax. Anyway, we should head into the village now, right? Looks like they’re arguing with someone. You sure you don’t wanna go check it out?"
Steven laughed, then lightly patted Alina’s shoulder, as if telling her not to focus on him.
Talulah simply sighed and tugged at the still-flustered Alina, before quickening her pace toward the crowd gathering at the village entrance.
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Chapter 97: Chapter 97: How Much Are You Willing to Give?
Chapter Text
Chapter 97: How Much Are You Willing to Give?
Silently sneaking back into the village with Alina, Talulah had initially planned to check on the two elderly villagers from the previous day.
However, just as she was about to do so, two patrolling soldiers from the Infected Patrol Squad spotted them.
"What are you two doing? Don’t you know the entire village has been ordered to gather at the entrance?"
Hiding nearby, Steven almost burst out laughing.
The words themselves weren’t particularly funny, but the way they were delivered reminded him of some authoritarian dystopia, making the whole situation feel strangely comical.
“We—”
“We just got back from outside.”
Cutting off whatever Talulah was about to say, Alina stepped forward to shield her.
Clearly, she was much better at dealing with these patrol guards and had no intention of picking a fight.
Without resisting, she allowed them to escort the two of them toward the village entrance.
Perhaps because Talulah’s attire looked too refined for an ordinary village girl, the soldiers didn’t make things too difficult for them.
Her elegant dress seemed more like something a noblewoman from a nomadic city would wear—certainly not the kind of clothing a rural villager could afford.
To avoid unnecessary trouble, the guards had no choice but to ignore her obviously hostile demeanor.
Just as they looked down on the infected villagers, the nobility in turn looked down on them.
When Talulah and Alina finally reached the village entrance, they realized that the entire village had already been gathered there—including the two elderly villagers from yesterday.
At the very front of the crowd, the village chief was engaged in a conversation with what appeared to be the captain of the Infected Patrol Squad.
Judging from their expressions, the conversation was anything but pleasant.
"With all due respect, sir, your patrol already took nearly half of our village’s food supply last week. And now, you’re telling us there’s some kind of monster roaming around nearby, so you need to conduct another search? We truly have nothing left to give!"
Both Steven and Talulah had excellent hearing, so even though they stood at the edge of the crowd, they could clearly hear the exchange.
However, their reactions to the village chief’s words were quite different.
Talulah, unsurprisingly, saw this as yet another instance of blatant extortion from the Infected Patrol Squad.
But Steven…
He was wondering whether this so-called "monster" might be related to the Collapsal he had previously encountered.
However, based on its last known escape route, it shouldn’t have ended up anywhere near this village.
The truth was still uncertain.
"I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but these are our orders from above. Our duty is to follow them. If you resist, you’ll be considered in violation of military law, and we have the authority to classify you as rebels and suppress you accordingly. I trust you understand what that means?"
Wrapped in thick armor, the patrol captain’s towering physique formed a stark contrast with the frail old man standing before him.
But his words?
They reeked of a threat.
"And besides, we’re not asking you to give us anything. We are merely ensuring the safety of you, the civilians. As such, it’s only natural that you provide us with some compensation. Doesn’t that sound reasonable?"
His deep voice carried a pressing weight as he questioned the old man.
To an uninformed outsider, it might have even sounded perfectly justified.
But only these civilians, who had long suffered under the oppression of the Infected Patrol Squad, knew the truth—this so-called protection was something they would rather do without.
“Yes, I understand. Thank you, officers, for all your hard work. It’s only right, it’s only fair…”
Even as his heart bled, the old man could only lower his head, responding in a voice full of submission and humility. He didn’t dare show the slightest hint of defiance.
The words he had spoken earlier were already the only resistance he could afford for his village. Just as the officer had said—if they pressed the issue further, the guards could brand them as rebels at any moment, then massacre them on the spot.
And these people—though supposedly their fellow countrymen—wouldn’t hesitate for a second to do just that.
In fact, they might even falsify records after the slaughter, labeling the corpses as infected individuals and claiming the act as a military achievement.
What could they do?
In a village mostly composed of the elderly, women, and children, what bargaining power did they have against these thugs?
The village chief could only pray that these bandits in uniform would at least restrain themselves—out of the simple logic that leaving the village alive meant they could continue to exploit it later.
Meanwhile, Talulah clenched her fists tightly, her gaze burning with fury as she glared directly at the officer who spoke with such righteous rhetoric while committing outright robbery.
“I don’t get it. Are all these villagers infected?”
Just then, Steven’s curious voice reached her ear.
But there was something in his tone… a subtle hint of provocation.
“No, they’re just ordinary farmers.”
Talulah answered in a hushed tone, almost as if she were talking to herself, forcibly suppressing her rage.
It wasn’t time yet.
Even if she struck now and drove these patrol guards away, it would only bring greater trouble to the villagers.
As much as she hated these bandits, she knew that now was not the moment to resist.
“That’s weird then.”
Steven smacked his lips together. “They’re called the Infected Patrol Squad, aren’t they? Shouldn’t they be dealing with infected people instead of bullying normal farmers? What kind of logic is that?”
His tone was light, almost casual, but Talulah wasn’t fooled. She knew he was deliberately stirring the flames.
Of course, he already understood the answer—it was simply because there was no profit in harassing actual infected individuals.
One option brought wealth, while the other was risky and fruitless.
Even an idiot knew which one to pick.
“Exactly. That’s the problem with this country.”
Talulah’s voice was heavy with conviction.
“The infected are nothing more than an excuse—just a convenient justification for their oppression. The ones who truly suffer are always those at the very bottom.”
For some reason, she felt like she could trust Steven with such dangerous words.
Words that, if overheard by the Ursus authorities, would instantly brand her a traitor.
Because she had a feeling—if she ever decided to act, Steven’s help would make things much easier.
“Tsk, tsk— Humans really are confusing.”
Still invisible, Steven shook his head.
If he had seen something like this before, it would have been on a TV screen or in a novel—a story, detached from reality.
But now?
Experiencing it firsthand?
It was too absurd to comprehend.
At least in Minecraft, things were simple.
If pillagers attacked a village, they were just after emeralds—no convoluted justifications, no moral pretenses.
At the very least, they weren’t pretending to protect villagers while doing it, right?
—Wait.
Why did this whole thing… sound like something he would do instead?
Realizing this, Steven let out an awkward cough.
Good thing no one here knew about some of the things he’d done before. Otherwise, that would be an interesting conversation.
“Are you really not planning to fight back? If this keeps going, these people are only going to get worse.”
Steven glanced at the Infected Patrol Squads, who had completely abandoned all pretense and were now ransacking the village under the guise of a “search.”
Leaning closer, he lowered his voice and asked Talulah.
Never mind whether she had the power to resist—at the very least, she shouldn’t just let this happen without a fight, right?
“It’s not time yet.
At least, not now.
Right now, I don’t have the power to change anything. If I act recklessly, it’ll only make things worse.”
Talulah shook her head.
Did she want to fight back?
Of course she did.
But after everything, what would change?
Maybe she could escape and avoid Ursus’s retaliation—but what about the people left behind?
“Huh. You’re calmer than I expected.”
Steven chuckled.
“I thought people who use fire magic were supposed to have a short temper.”
He had assumed Talulah would snap after hearing all this.
But now, he could see she was smarter than he thought.
And he respected that kind of restraint.
“I’m just suppressing my anger.
That doesn’t mean I can accept this.”
A faint glow of fire flickered in her silver eyes as she gritted her teeth.
If she had the choice, she wouldn’t hesitate to act according to her own will.
Noticing the fire burning beneath Talulah’s composed exterior, Alina gently took her hand, trying to offer some comfort.
“Well then, if I told you I had a way to solve this problem…
What would you be willing to pay?”
Steven stroked his chin.
For Talulah, this situation seemed impossible.
All she could do was endure.
But for him?
This was nothing.
With just a little effort, he could think of several ways to solve the issue—none of them particularly difficult to pull off.
“You can help me?”
Talulah’s tense expression relaxed slightly.
She trusted that Steven wasn’t the type to make empty promises.
If he said he had a way, then it meant he could get rid of these thugs without bringing trouble to the village.
“Of course. But… That depends on what you’re willing to offer.”
Steven grinned.
Good thing Talulah couldn’t see his face right now—otherwise, if she noticed that his gaze had been lingering on her lips…
Well.
She might start getting some weird ideas.
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Chapter 98: Chapter 98: The Headless Horseman from the Abyss
Chapter Text
Chapter 98: The Headless Horseman from the Abyss
“...What do you want?”
Talulah didn’t agree right away.
Even though she was furious, she hadn’t lost her rationality.
There was no such thing as unconditional kindness in this world.
Since Steven had already asked what she was willing to give in return, it meant he clearly wanted something.
And she wasn’t the type to rashly offer everything without understanding the cost.
“It’s actually not a big deal for you. All I need is… hmm, just a little dragon saliva?”
Steven didn’t bother hiding his request and stated it directly.
After all, he was helping her solve such a massive problem—asking for a bit of her spit couldn’t be that unreasonable, right?
Still, since the word “spit” could sound… questionable, he chose a more elegant term instead.
“Dragon saliva?”
Talulah was momentarily confused by the term.
But as soon as she realized what it meant, a deep blush spread across her pale, delicate face.
“You scoundrel! What do you need that for?!”
Her tone was more flustered than genuinely angry.
She was incredibly puzzled about why Steven would need something like this.
Could this be some new way of asking for a kiss?
But they had just met!
Sure, he left a decent impression on her, but nowhere near enough for her to even consider doing something like that!
“Hah? Don’t overthink it! Just answer—are you giving it or not?”
Steven was the one who felt weirded out now.
He was just asking for some spit—how did that suddenly make him a scoundrel?!
And here he was, trying to be polite by using a fancier term!
Talulah wanted to refuse outright, but when she saw the Infected Patrol Squads hauling away the village’s last remaining food, she hesitated.
If giving up something so trivial could ensure the villagers survived the harsh winter, then…
Wasn’t that a sacrifice worth making?
“If you can really do what you say… then I suppose I can agree.”
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself.
Although she couldn’t see him, her instincts told her that Steven was right beside her, waiting for her answer.
“Then it’s settled. Just sit back and watch.”
Steven’s voice faded into the distance.
Talulah could only watch in the direction he left, wondering—how exactly was he planning to change this situation?
That question didn’t last long.
Because just a few minutes later, she realized that Steven’s so-called "solution"…
Was absolutely insane.
A strange noise suddenly echoed across the once-peaceful snowy plains.
It sounded like a swarm of creatures rushing forward, their movements unnaturally rapid.
But more terrifying than the sound itself was the eerie sensation that came with it.
It felt as if some monstrous entity was lurking within the snowstorm, something so horrifying that it made every person—whether they were the looting Patrol Guards or the fearful villagers—freeze in place.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the source of the noise.
And then, the storm itself began to subside, revealing the truth hidden beneath.
Towering figures—each over two meters tall—stood within the snow.
They looked like snowmen, but their forms were far from normal.
Atop each of their bodies sat a sinisterly grinning pumpkin, its eerie carved face making it impossible for anyone to suppress the chill creeping up their spine.
Even more terrifying was the fact that these creatures—despite being entirely made of pure snow—moved like living beings. Their eerie pumpkin heads grinned wickedly, sending a chill down the spine of all who beheld them.
But compared to these strange snowmen, the true source of dread was the figure looming behind them.
Mounted upon a towering skeletal warhorse, the rider’s own head was a sinister pumpkin, just like his minions. His entire body was engulfed in roaring flames, and the eerie purple-black armor he wore shimmered with an unnatural light, as if drinking in the darkness itself.
The sword in his hand gleamed with a ghostly chill, an edge that seemed poised to consume the very souls of those who dared gaze upon it.
This knight, leading his legion of spectral snowmen, had appeared as if out of thin air, now standing at the front of the village—not as an invader, nor as a protector, but as something unstoppable, something that regarded all in its path as mere obstacles.
The Infected Patrol Squads had no idea what they were facing.
But one thing was clear—they were now standing in opposition to this army straight out of a nightmare.
Then, with a single effortless motion, the knight raised his sword and swung it downward.
The snowfall in front of him, mid-descent, was cleaved in two, splitting apart as though acknowledging his command.
In that instant, the illusion of the storm was shattered.
The knight and his army of twisted snowmen were now fully revealed.
“T-The Headless Horseman!!”
No one knew who said it first.
But the moment the name was spoken, the tense silence shattered.
Panic spread like wildfire.
The villagers and even the patrol guards—most of whom had no idea what a Headless Horseman truly was—recognized one thing:
This knight was not human.
And he was not here by accident.
The patrol squad’s captain stood frozen.
His legs trembled uncontrollably.
Just moments ago, he had been arrogantly overseeing the looting of the village, acting as a high-ranking officer of Ursus.
But in front of this monstrosity?
He was nothing more than a terrified man.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to snap out of it.
He wanted to order his men to hold formation, to not succumb to fear—
But before he could speak, the fiery knight moved.
In the blink of an eye, the knight and his steed—previously far behind the snowmen—had closed the distance.
Now, he was right beside the captain.
The warhorse exhaled—but instead of breath, it released a freezing mist that prickled the captain’s skin like needles of ice.
Before the captain could react, the knight raised his sword—
Not in a rush.
Not with a violent strike.
Simply, calmly.
And that alone was enough.
Thud!
It wasn’t the sound of a sword cutting flesh.
It was the sound of knees hitting the frozen ground.
The captain collapsed.
Not from injury.
But from sheer, overwhelming terror.
A foul-smelling yellow liquid seeped from beneath his uniform, pooling on the icy ground.
He didn’t even seem to notice.
Instead, he threw himself forward, pressing his forehead to the ground, groveling in pure, mindless fear.
Begging.
His head banged against the frozen earth again and again, as if praying to a demon for mercy.
The closer he was, the more he felt it—
The inevitable, inescapable dread.
A primal terror, the instinctive fear of a mortal standing before death itself.
His pride, his rank, his duty to Ursus—none of it mattered anymore.
Only one thing mattered:
Surviving.
He had never believed in ghosts or spirits before.
But now?
He had never believed in anything more.
How the hell had this happened?!
He had only come here to steal some supplies, to take advantage of his position.
That was all.
So why—
Why the hell had he run into this goddamn nightmare?!
To the captain’s utter disbelief, his desperate, dignity-abandoning pleas for mercy seemed to have had some effect.
The knight before him hesitated.
As if even he hadn’t expected such spinelessness.
Even the skeletal warhorse beneath him took a few steps back, seemingly repulsed by the filthy liquid pooling beneath the captain’s trembling body.
“Killing you would insult my sword.”
A voice like scraping nails on a blackboard echoed from within the knight’s armor.
Hoarse. Hollow. Like the whisper of the dead.
The sound alone felt like it could pierce through the captain’s skull.
But he didn’t dare stop.
He kept bowing, forehead smashing against the frozen ground, repeating his pathetic pleas over and over again.
Then, the knight turned his gaze to the others.
He spoke no further words.
He didn’t have to.
A simple, sweeping glance through the eerie glow of his jack-o’-lantern head was enough.
The entire patrol squad collapsed.
The villagers followed suit.
Kneeling.
Not by choice.
But by instinct.
By pure, suffocating fear.
Even Talulah, standing among them, grabbed a stunned Alina and forced her to crouch down.
“Weaklings.”
The single word, laced with scorn, hung in the air like an executioner’s verdict.
Then, without another glance, the knight turned his mount.
The skeleton warhorse strode back into the ranks of the eerie snowmen.
There were no parting words.
No threats.
Only a single gesture.
He lifted his sword and pointed toward the snowy expanse ahead.
In perfect unison, the snowmen army turned and marched forward, continuing their journey into the unknown.
It had all happened so suddenly.
And just as suddenly, it was over.
Like a mirage, the knight and his army had appeared, left behind nothing but fear, and then vanished beyond the horizon.
The only proof that they had ever been there was the deep, gaping sword mark in the snow, carved several meters deep into the frozen earth.
Even after the knight had disappeared from view, the village remained silent as a graveyard.
No one dared to move.
No one even dared to breathe too loudly.
The air was thick with an oppressive, lingering fear.
Only when the feeling finally lifted—
Only when they were certain that the nightmare had truly left—
Did people slowly, cautiously, lift their heads.
One person collapsed.
Then another.
Finally, as if snapping out of a trance, the survivors confirmed what their minds refused to believe—
The nightmare was gone.
The Infected Patrol Squads began picking themselves up.
But none of them had the stomach to continue their raiding and looting.
They had come expecting easy prey.
Instead, they had found something out of legend, out of nightmare.
And they wanted nothing more than to leave.
“The higher-ups were right…”
Someone muttered, voice trembling.
“There really ARE monsters in this region…”
The captain, still shaking, finally stopped banging his head against the frozen ground.
Blood dripped from his forehead.
But strangely, the pain made him feel more alert.
His mind reeled, connecting the dots, and his body broke into a cold sweat as he remembered the orders from above.
“We’re leaving.”
He barked, his voice hoarse.
“We need to report this—NOW.”
There was no hesitation.
His men scrambled to their feet, supporting the still-dazed captain.
None of them even considered continuing the raid.
None of them wanted to spend another second in this goddamn village.
They fled, staggering through the snow, desperate to put as much distance as possible between themselves and whatever that thing was.
“Wait! You can’t leave!”
A quivering voice called out.
It’s the village chief.
His hand shot out, grabbing the captain’s sleeve.
“If you leave, who will protect us?!”
His voice was filled with fear.
Yes, he had hated these soldiers.
Yes, he had wished they would all rot in hell.
But right now?
He was terrified.
If these trained, armed men were fleeing like frightened rats—
Then what chance did the villagers have?
They were old, sick, starving.
They weren’t warriors.
If that thing returned…
Would they be helpless lambs to the slaughter?
“That’s not my problem.”
The captain yanked his arm free, eyes filled with nothing but fear and urgency.
“We were sent to hunt the infected.”
He spat.
“Whatever the hell that thing was—it’s got NOTHING to do with us.”
He turned away.
“You’re on your own.”
He didn’t even bother counting his men.
Didn’t care if some had gone missing.
He just wanted to escape.
To get away from this godforsaken place.
He didn’t look back.
Didn’t spare a single thought for the terrified villagers.
The only thing on his mind was that the higher-ups needed to know about the knight.
As for the villagers’ survival?
Who the hell cared?
As the patrol squad fled, the village was left in cold, suffocating silence.
The people, paralyzed by terror, could do nothing but stare at the retreating soldiers.
Only two people remained calm.
Only two people weren’t drowning in mind-numbing panic.
Talulah and Alina.
"That knight just now… could it be…?"
Alina’s voice wavered, filled with uncertainty.
She turned to Talulah, looking for confirmation.
And Talulah, her expression grim, silent, simply nodded.
She didn’t want to believe it.
But that glowing, grinning pumpkin head…
It was too familiar to be a coincidence.
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Chapter 99: Chapter 99: Don’t Ask, The Answer is Originium Arts
Chapter Text
Chapter 99: Don’t Ask, The Answer is Originium Arts
The Infected Patrol Squad had left without taking anything from the village, even abandoning several weapons in their terror.
But at the same time, the condition of the villagers was far from good.
The terrifying knight had not only shaken the patrol squad but had also left the villagers in deep fear.
However, unlike the patrol members who still had the option to flee, the villagers of this small settlement had no choice at all.
Staying in the village might mean being killed by the knight if he returned, but that was just a possibility.
Leaving the village, however, meant certain death in the desolate, uninhabited snowfields.
Between the chance of death and the certainty of it, they could only choose the former.
What else could they do? Life had to go on.
So, after their initial fear subsided, the villagers picked themselves up and started restoring their homes, which had been left in disarray by the Infected Patrol Squad.
They returned to their daily lives as best they could.
This was the reality of those living at the bottom—so long as there was even the slightest hope for survival, they would keep moving forward.
Meanwhile, Talulah and Alina, after helping two elderly villagers who had been weakened from standing too long in the cold, made their way outside the village.
They believed that Steven would be able to find them, and they had urgent questions that needed answering.
Sure enough, just as they stepped out of the village and reached a secluded spot, they saw Steven casually emerging from the forest with his helmet off, looking as relaxed as ever.
Seeing him like this, Talulah found it impossible to associate him with the terrifying knight who had ridden a skeletal warhorse and seemed to have emerged from the depths of the abyss.
Where was the oppressive aura?
He looked more like some idle, good-for-nothing loafer.
"Why are you staring at me like that? Did I fail to do what I promised? Shouldn't this be the moment where you heap praise on me?"
Seeing the two girls looking at him as if he were some kind of monster, Steven had been expecting admiration and applause.
Instead, he was confused about their reaction.
Hadn’t he just driven away the Infected Patrol Squad without even shedding blood?
And those soldiers would never suspect the villagers were involved in what had happened.
It was a perfect solution to the crisis!
Shouldn't he be getting cheers and applause right now?
"That knight just now… that was really you?"
Talulah still found it hard to accept.
"If it wasn't me, was it you? My acting skills are pretty strong, aren’t they? Those guys definitely couldn’t tell the difference."
Steven stroked his chin with a smug look.
Strictly speaking, this wasn’t even acting—those snowmen were real constructs, made from glowing pumpkin heads and piles of snow, forming puppets under his control.
Everything else was also completely real, not some illusion.
To create the effect of being wreathed in flames, he had even downed a Fire Resistance Potion and then used a Flint and Steel to set himself alight.
That’s how he had achieved that terrifying, blazing aura.
It had taken quite a bit of effort to make it all work.
"It's not about whether they could tell or not—it's about how you managed to do it in the first place," Talulah asked hesitantly, unable to hold back her curiosity.
"Huh? Originium Arts. It's all Originium Arts. How else could a human achieve that kind of effect? Obviously, it was just an illusion created with Originium Arts."
Ever since Steven realized that people seemed willing to accept anything as long as it was explained with "Originium Arts," he had started using it as his go-to excuse.
Originium Arts—the perfect scapegoat!
But while this excuse might work on Alina, there was no way it could fool Talulah, a Draco.
No matter how she looked at it, this had nothing to do with Originium Arts!
Not to mention those snowmen that seemed to have a life of their own—where did that skeletal warhorse come from?
And that earth-shattering slash that split the ice and snow—where did that come from?
The mark left by that sword was still at the village entrance.
If that kind of power could be achieved with regular Originium Arts, then Steven might as well be a war god descending to the mortal world.
After all, that wasn’t some carefully prepared, long-charged strike.
Anyone could tell that it was just a casual swing, a sword aura drawn effortlessly in the air.
But since Steven had already given his explanation, it was clear that he didn’t want anyone prying further into his secrets.
Talulah naturally knew better than to push the matter.
This wasn’t just any question—it concerned personal abilities.
No one wanted their deepest strengths and secrets to be exposed.
"Let’s put that aside for now. Regardless, I should really thank you properly."
Talulah bowed deeply toward Steven, her expression filled with gratitude.
She fully understood what he had done and the risk he had taken.
If things had gone wrong, he wouldn’t have just provoked the Infected Patrol Squad—he might have drawn the attention of Ursus officials.
Even now, it wasn’t as if Steven was completely out of danger.
The patrol squad members who returned would surely report what had happened, and the authorities would send someone to investigate.
In the worst-case scenario, even the Emperor’s Blades might be dispatched.
After all, the power Steven had displayed wasn’t something that regular officials or enforcers could handle.
"No need for thanks. Didn’t we already agree? I’m not helping you out of the goodness of my heart. This was a deal—I help you, you pay me. No need for all that gratitude nonsense."
Steven shrugged, casually sidestepping Talulah’s bow.
"This…"
The moment he mentioned the deal, Talulah’s composed demeanor shattered.
Her face instantly turned red, and she was at a complete loss for words.
Was he really that impatient? Or was he just that eager to get his hands on her body?
Alina was right here—didn’t he feel the slightest bit embarrassed?
"You want to do it here?"
Talulah pointed at Alina, who clearly had no idea about the secret agreement between them.
Her lips pursed, her expression showing her reluctance.
"Huh? Why not? What’s there to be shy about? If Alina wants to watch, let her watch. What’s the problem?"
Steven scratched his head, utterly confused.
Was spitting really such an embarrassing thing for Dracos?
What did they do if they had phlegm stuck in their throats? Swallow it?
Alina, equally puzzled, tilted her head slightly.
It was clear she had no clue what the two of them were talking about, but her curious expression showed that she wasn’t planning to leave.
"I… sigh, whatever. Let’s just get this over with."
Talulah hesitated for a moment, but seeing that Steven was completely unfazed, she didn’t know how to react anymore.
She had already agreed, and going back on her word wasn’t an option.
Steven had fulfilled his promise, and if she refused him now, she’d be going against her own principles.
Might as well just go for it.
Resolving herself, Talulah shut her eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and reached forward.
Wrapping her arms around Steven’s neck, she pressed her lips toward his.
But the very next second—
A strange sensation touched her lips, pushing past them and into her mouth.
Something was off.
Snapping her eyes open, Talulah found herself staring at a familiar glass bottle—one that was currently being shoved into her mouth by Steven.
Her wide, stunned eyes showed just how unprepared she was for this development.
Steven, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed.
Meeting her shocked gaze, he simply urged her impatiently—
"What are you staring at me for? Blow!"
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Chapter 100: Chapter 100: Don't Speak Too Soon
Chapter Text
Chapter 100: Don't Speak Too Soon
Steven actually knew exactly what Talulah was trying to do just now.
Any guy with a functioning brain would understand the situation when a girl closes her eyes, wraps her arms around his neck, and leans in.
But the problem was—he had absolutely no such intention or preparation.
Sure, kissing a beautiful girl was a great experience, but only when there were real feelings involved.
Steven fully acknowledged that Talulah was indeed a beauty, no doubt about it.
However, when it came to their relationship, at best, they were just friends.
And besides, she had clearly misunderstood something.
If he just went along with it and kissed her now, not only would they not get any closer, but he might not even be able to stay friends with her afterward.
Forcing a kiss out of a girl might sound exciting, but Steven wasn’t someone without morals.
If the day ever came when Talulah genuinely wanted to kiss him, he wouldn’t reject her.
But right now, he was far more interested in whether or not she could actually breathe Dragon's Breath.
Fortunately, when Talulah, still in a daze, unconsciously exhaled after he urged her, the glass bottle in Steven’s hand actually changed color to a faint purplish-pink.
‘Hmm, looks like my guess was right. As long as it's a dragon, it would still count as Dragon's Breath—it doesn’t necessarily have to come from an Ender Dragon, huh?’
Satisfied, Steven retracted the bottle, nodding in approval as his grin widened.
Now that he had Dragon's Breath, brewing Lingering Potions wouldn’t be a problem anymore.
Those were far more useful than regular potions, and the best part was that milk couldn't wash them away.
Whether it was for continuous healing or sustained poisoning, this would be a game-changer.
Talulah, on the other hand, remained completely frozen until she saw Steven, still grinning like a troublemaker, pull the saliva-coated bottle out of her mouth.
Wait—so when he said he needed her saliva, he really just meant saliva?!
But why did he have to smile so infuriatingly while doing it?
Was he planning to do something weird with her spit?
Covering her lips, which were now slightly sore from having the bottle shoved against them, Talulah coughed lightly.
She was just about to scold him for not explaining things more clearly when she suddenly saw Steven reach behind him—
And casually pull out a few more identical glass bottles.
"What are you trying to do?"
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
She hadn't expected him to be this shameless.
At this point, she didn’t even want to question how he was hiding all these bottles on him. She just wanted them away from her.
"Huh? You didn’t think just one bottle was enough, did you? Come on, a little more—it’s not like it costs you anything. Or do you want to drink some water first to clear your throat?"
With a perfectly innocent expression, Steven even pulled out a fresh bottle of water from his inventory and offered it to her.
"You—!"
Talulah didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry.
This guy—every single thing he did was completely unexpected, yet when she thought about it, somehow, it almost made sense.
"Pfft, I think you should just cooperate with him, Talulah. After all, you were the one who agreed to it, right? It's just blowing into a bottle—it’s not like he’s asking for anything unreasonable."
Standing off to the side, Alina had finally pieced together what had just happened.
From the moment Talulah had leaned in to kiss Steven, Alina had figured that whatever he was doing must have been at her request.
She just hadn't expected things to take such a strange turn afterward.
But she could also see that thanks to Steven’s unexpected response, the awkward tension that had almost formed between him and Talulah had completely disappeared.
Alina had no idea what he wanted Talulah's saliva for, but seeing the usually strong and commanding girl show such a flustered expression was too amusing to ignore.
Besides, as Steven said, it was just blowing some air—it wasn’t like it would harm Talulah in any way.
"This is totally unreasonable! He shoved that thing right into my mouth—how is that not over the line?"
Her cheeks puffed up in frustration as Talulah pointed at Steven and the pile of bottles in front of him, growing even more annoyed just from looking at them.
"I didn’t do it on purpose. You were the one who leaned in—how is that my fault? You're the one who misunderstood things."
Steven mumbled under his breath, struggling to hold back his laughter.
Watching this bold and sharp-witted girl suddenly act like a pouting little lady was too entertaining.
"You—!"
Talulah shot him a furious glare.
How could this be her fault?
He was the one who made it sound so weird!
Asking a girl for her saliva out of nowhere—how could anyone not take that the wrong way?!
"Fine, whatever. You're smart. You're righteous. You're just so amazing!"
Perhaps because she was laughing in exasperation at this point, Talulah’s expression softened.
Now that the initial embarrassment had faded, she found herself accepting the situation more easily.
Just as Steven had said, he really had only asked for her saliva.
The whole kiss thing—yeah, that had been entirely in her head.
And honestly, wasn’t this outcome exactly what she had wanted?
If she had actually gone through with a deep, passionate kiss with Steven, she would definitely have been left with an awkward, lingering discomfort afterward.
Compared to that, simply blowing some breath into a bottle was way easier to accept.
Instead of continuing to argue, Talulah sighed and obediently blew into the bottles Steven had lined up in front of her.
Watching them turn into that strange purplish-pink hue, she blinked in confusion.
She had no idea her breath could change colors like that.
And from the way Steven talked about it, could this actually be used to make some kind of special potion?
Talulah had never heard of Dracos’ breath having this kind of effect before, but Steven didn’t seem like he was lying.
It wasn’t until Steven had finally filled up all the dozens of glass bottles he had pulled out from behind him that he finally let Talulah off the hook.
By then, her cheeks were already starting to ache.
“This should be enough for now. If I ever need more, I’ll just come find you again.”
In reality, even a single bottle was enough—Steven could register it in the Transmutation Table and duplicate it infinitely.
But that would cost EMC points, and why waste valuable EMC when he could get Dragon's Breath for free?
If circumstances allowed, having a Draco unwillingly spew Dragon's Breath at him could actually be a pretty solid way to farm EMC points.
But then again, Dragon's Breath wasn’t exactly worth that much.
In the end, he decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
If he really wanted more EMC, he’d be better off setting up a few EMC collectors at home.
That way, he could have as much as he wanted without any trouble.
But then, that would force him into becoming a shut-in. And that was completely at odds with his goal of going out and having fun.
“You’re still thinking about next time? There’s no next time, you jerk.”
Rubbing her sore lips, Talulah rolled her eyes at Steven.
What did he take her for?
Sure, this didn’t actually cost her anything, but that didn’t mean she was okay with being used like some kind of tool.
No way was she going to set this kind of precedent—if she let him get away with it once, there was no way he’d ever stop taking advantage of her.
The only reason she had gone through with it this time was because she had already agreed.
On any other day, she would’ve burned all his stupid glass bottles to ashes.
“Come on, don’t be so absolute about it. Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll need my help too.”
Steven grinned, not taking her words seriously at all.
Whether she liked it or not, he already had all the Dragon's Breath he needed.
Besides, with Talulah’s personality, there was no doubt she’d run into some serious setbacks in the future.
When that time came, she’d be asking for much more than just a few bottles of Dragon's Breath.
Speaking of which… what else could he get from a dragon?
Dragon blood, dragon scales, dragon fangs—those were all common materials, but they weren’t exactly renewable.
Plus, harvesting those from someone was a little too extreme.
He wondered if Dracos had anything like a dragon pearl or heavenly scales—something rare and valuable.
With a thoughtful look in his eyes, Steven silently appraised Talulah like a merchant sizing up his goods.
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Chapter 101: Chapter 101: I'm Not Even Worthy of Being Hung on a Streetlamp
Chapter Text
Chapter 101: I'm Not Even Worthy of Being Hung on a Streetlamp
After the Infected Patrol Squad left, the village quickly returned to its usual state.
Even though the terrifying knight could return at any moment, the villagers had long given up on thinking about the future.
Compared to surviving the present, what came next was hardly worth considering.
What surprised Steven was just how fast they adapted.
That, however, played right into his hands.
With Alina, the local girl, introducing him, it didn’t take long for the villagers to accept him under the guise of a wandering merchant.
But the real turning point was when he pulled out a large quantity of baked potatoes and various kinds of dried meat for trade.
In an instant, he became the most important figure in the village.
No—calling him their savior wouldn’t even be an exaggeration.
If they had to carve a statue in his honor, they probably wouldn’t hesitate.
After all, the Infected Patrol Squad had already stripped them of nearly everything.
The only reason they even had enough rations to survive a little longer was because that knight’s arrival had driven the squad away.
But making it through the harsh winter was still an uphill battle.
Steven’s arrival changed everything.
His bag seemed to hold an endless supply of food, and the conditions he set for trade were ridiculously simple.
So simple, in fact, that some of the villagers began to wonder if he was some kind of living saint—because all he asked for in return was wood.
Twelve hours of chopping trees per day could earn a three-person family enough potatoes to last three days or a small portion of beef or lamb.
To these villagers, this was nothing short of a miracle.
In weather this cold, the elderly, women, and children usually had no work available. Their only option was to huddle together in their drafty homes, hoping to survive the season.
Now, as long as they worked, they wouldn’t go hungry. How could they not be grateful?
“Man, they actually think this work schedule is a blessing? Did I set my prices too high? No wonder capitalists are on another level—I can’t even begin to comprehend their lack of conscience.”
Steven himself was shocked.
He had only come up with this deal because he was too lazy to chop wood himself, and yet, he had unintentionally mobilized the entire village into working for him.
He had even raised the workload to make it more demanding—996, the bare minimum of what he considered acceptable for laborers—and yet, these villagers jumped at the chance.
“I don’t get why you need so much wood. Didn’t you say you were a doctor? What are you planning to build with this much lumber?”
After spending the past few days together, Talulah had gotten used to Steven.
Both were outsiders, and while neither was particularly easy to get along with, at least they weren’t at each other’s throats like he was with Kal'tsit.
With Alina—the gentle, warm-hearted girl who was like a walking central heater—acting as a buffer, Talulah was at least willing to acknowledge this slightly deranged guy as her friend.
And not just any friend, but one who had a ton of secrets and was absurdly strong.
"Not at all, I’m just making charcoal."
"Charcoal? What do you even need that for? The villagers have gathered so much wood for you over the past few days that it's practically burying your front door!"
Talulah was even more confused.
Why would a doctor need that much charcoal?
Was he planning to burn down his own house?
At this rate, he had enough wood to set the entire village on fire.
"Ah, that’s where you don’t understand. Charcoal is for making steel, of course."
Sitting in a chair outside the collection station he had set up at the village entrance, Steven explained his plan in a completely relaxed tone.
Being the boss and letting others do the work for him was a whole different experience. Sure, he could chop trees faster than all hundred villagers combined, but where was the fun in that?
After all, the biggest driver of human technological advancement was laziness. And for a "Minecrafter" like him, automation research came from the same motivation.
If he could sit here and still get the resources, why should he care if the production rate was a little slower? He wasn’t in any rush.
"Steelmaking?"
Talulah’s face scrunched up in confusion.
She knew steel required charcoal, but even assuming Steven had the skills to make it, what was he going to do with it?
Did he even need steel weapons? This guy could probably kill someone just as easily with a wooden stick!
After witnessing him single-handedly carry an entire day's worth of logged wood—easily over a hundred logs—faster than a running horse, Talulah realized his strength was on an entirely different level.
"Even if I explained, you wouldn’t fully get it. Let’s just say this is the first step to making money."
When Steven saw the Infected Patrol Squad using longswords and cold weapons, an idea had already taken root in his mind.
And it was an idea that could make him rich—monopoly-level rich.
In a time of war, what was the most valuable commodity besides food?
The answer was obvious: weapons.
And as luck would have it, Steven had access to a modern warfare mod called Vic’s Modern Warfare.
The firearms he could craft with it were practically toys to him now, but if he sold them as weapons…
Well, becoming the richest man in this world wouldn’t be too far-fetched.
Of course, Steven had no immediate plans to become an arms dealer. Right now, it was just a concept.
His current goal was simple—use his resources to manufacture those guns first.
As for whether he would sell them? That would depend on his mood.
Besides, if he just pulled materials directly from the Transmutation Table, there wouldn’t be any sense of challenge or accomplishment.
It would be far more satisfying to craft everything by hand.
As he watched the villagers tirelessly chopping wood for him, Steven couldn’t help but think to himself—he really was working too hard. Just sitting here like this was already draining his energy.
“You…”
Talulah opened her mouth but quickly gave up.
“Forget it. If I try to figure out what’s going on in your head, I’ll probably end up crazy myself. But no matter what, you’ve practically saved this village again.”
She glanced at Steven, who was lounging around like a slumlord, but her gaze was filled with gratitude.
She understood perfectly well—if Steven hadn’t provided food and work, these aging villagers with little ability to labor might not have survived the winter.
And compared to the near-hellish conditions of Ursus' official labor camps, Steven’s absurdly lenient work conditions were practically paradise.
“Wait, you’re telling me working twelve hours a day with no breaks is ‘saving them’?! You’re making me feel guilty now.”
Steven covered his face, feeling an odd sense of embarrassment.
He had set the longest work hours he thought were barely acceptable, yet somehow, these people were treating him like a benevolent deity.
Maybe he really wasn’t qualified to be the kind of capitalist who gets strung up on a streetlamp.
“Work? No, what you’re doing is charity.”
Talulah responded seriously.
To the villagers, this was nothing less than a lifeline.
If anyone tried to stop them from working, they’d be making enemies of the entire village.
“What’s a ‘break’?”
Alina tilted her head in confusion.
The concept seemed completely foreign to her—why would anyone willingly stop working if it meant they could feed their families?
“Alright, that’s enough Soviet jokes for one day.”
Steven shook his head, deciding it was best to stop thinking too hard about it.
Even Talulah and Alina were calling his business charity—if this conversation went any further, he might really end up hanging from a lamppost.
Ursus had its own national conditions. He wasn’t in a position to make judgments.
“Speaking of which, I almost want to go chop wood for you myself. But the old man said we should keep you company, try to build a good relationship with you, and see if we can get you to stay in the village a little longer.”
Talulah gave Steven a shove, forcing him upright from his sun-soaked lounge chair.
If it weren’t for the two elders in her house noticing how well she and Steven were getting along, she wouldn’t have been stuck here chatting with this guy out of sheer boredom.
“I think it’s nice. It’s rare to see you talk this much with someone, Talulah.”
Alina, on the other hand, didn’t see anything wrong with the situation.
She often didn’t understand what Steven and Talulah were talking about, but she could tell that their relationship was steadily improving.
“Ahem. Well, since you’re trying to get on my good side, shouldn’t you be showing a little gratitude? And yet you still dare to push me?”
Raising an eyebrow, Steven reached into his inventory and pulled out an empty glass bottle, setting it down on the table in front of him.
“You know the drill.”
“Get lost.”
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Chapter 102: Chapter 102: Not Going Easy on Her
Chapter Text
Chapter 102: Not Going Easy on Her
Steven’s charcoal-burning plan was a great success.
With the entire village—over a hundred people—mobilized to chop wood for him, he quickly produced a full chest of charcoal blocks.
Sure, if he had done it himself, it probably would’ve taken only half a day, but the joy of getting things done without lifting a finger was simply too satisfying to pass up.
However, when it came to iron for steelmaking, he couldn’t rely on the villagers anymore.
According to Talulah, mining in this world was no simple task.
Most cases of Oripathy infection seemed to stem from working in the mines.
Besides, mining was far more complicated than chopping wood.
Cutting down trees was straightforward—just chop and be done with it.
But mining required planning tunnels, handling waste and debris, and transporting materials, each step more troublesome than the last.
If he left it to the villagers, who knew how long it would take?
Of course, Steven had no doubt that if he offered enough potatoes and steaks, they’d still be willing to do it.
But after thinking it through, he decided against it.
Not everyone could be like him—able to carry a bit of wood in his inventory, dig hundreds of meters underground, and mine minerals effortlessly.
This kind of hassle was better handled by himself.
Besides, he hadn’t forgotten his true reason for coming to Ursus.
Extracting Originium ore—that was his top priority.
“If I remember correctly, Alina once mentioned that her father used to work in the mines. She often brought him food, so she must know how to get to the mining area.”
Waking up early in the morning, Steven stroked his chin, already setting his plan for the day.
His relationship with Alina and Talulah had grown quite strong.
In such a small village, they were the only ones of similar age.
And since both girls were shunned by the villagers due to their status as Infected, Steven—who didn’t care about that at all and even knew their secrets—naturally became their regular conversation partner.
Talulah even enjoyed bickering with him every few days, treating him more and more like a close friend.
As for Steven, he was easygoing by nature.
As long as people got used to his occasional odd ideas and sudden outbursts of weird thoughts, even Alina had to admit—he had a strange kind of charm.
So, Steven figured that if he went to Alina with his request, she had no reason to refuse.
However, when he entered the village as usual and informed the enthusiastic villagers that he wouldn’t be buying any more wood for the time being, he spotted a familiar figure standing at a doorway—like she had been waiting for him for a long time.
“Why are you here alone? Where’s Talulah?”
Steven glanced around.
The village wasn’t that big, and the two girls were practically inseparable.
He could hardly remember a time when they weren’t together.
But this time, Alina stood there alone, looking like an abandoned wife—pitiful in a way he couldn’t quite describe.
As Steven stepped closer to the girl, he noticed that she didn’t look too well.
His brow furrowed slightly.
Her skin, already naturally pale, now carried an unhealthy, almost sickly pallor.
Her lips, once soft and hydrated, were now dry and cracked.
With just one glance, Steven understood what was happening.
Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed her hand and led her into the house behind her.
Fortunately, the villagers were already aware of the close bond between the three of them.
None of them seemed to find it inappropriate, and surprisingly, there wasn’t even anyone gossiping about it.
That alone saved Steven quite a bit of trouble.
Pulling Alina’s small hand, he guided her inside and gently pushed her onto the bed. Then, after rummaging through his inventory for a moment, he pulled out a bottle of plain water.
With a casual flick of his fingers, he summoned a small flame and began heating the water right then and there.
Alina, however, remained as passive as a ragdoll, letting Steven do as he pleased. Even when she saw him conjure fire out of thin air, she didn’t react like Talulah would have—demanding an explanation.
Despite her evident weakness, the same gentle smile he was familiar with still remained on her face.
“Is your Oripathy worsening?”
After retrieving a chair from his inventory, Steven placed it beside the bed and sat down. As he observed the small room—clearly belonging to Alina—he also kept his gaze on the frail girl before him.
The house was old, but surprisingly clean and well-organized.
It’s a typical girl’s room, at least in terms of tidiness.
However, it lacked warmth.
Aside from a small desk with a few scattered books on it, there was nothing in the room that gave it a real "homey" feel.
As for Alina, Steven had seen her condition countless times back at Rhodes Island.
Oripathy didn’t usually show obvious symptoms when it wasn’t flaring up, but once it did, things could get troublesome.
At least Rhodes Island had medication to suppress it. But in this impoverished village? That kind of medicine was clearly out of reach.
“That’s what Talulah said, but to be honest, I’m not entirely sure myself.”
The girl sitting on the bed first nodded, then shook her head.
“So Talulah went to get medicine for you? Didn’t I tell you guys that I’m a doctor? If anything happens, you can come to me. I might not be great at everything, but Oripathy? I’ve seen it plenty of times on Rhodes Island.”
It wasn’t difficult for Steven to figure out why Talulah wasn’t here.
Given how much she valued Alina, she had likely rushed off to a distant nomadic city in search of medicine.
From the looks of it, she was probably the only one in the village capable of making the trip alone.
But what confused Steven was that, logically, coming to him first would have been the best course of action.
Given Talulah’s personality, she wouldn’t normally hesitate when it came to such decisions.
“She said… you don’t seem all that reliable when it comes to this, and she was worried you might make some unreasonable demands. So, she figured it’d be safer to get medicine from a proper hospital.”
Alina pursed her lips, giving a reason that neither of them truly believed.
“And the real reason?”
Steven wasn’t buying it.
There was no way Talulah would gamble with Alina’s health like that.
Given how she had the guts to kiss him out of nowhere before, it was clear she was a decisive person.
Alina blinked.
“She said that if she came to you, then she wouldn’t have a reason to go to the city. And either way, she knew you’d come by today. There was no way you’d ignore me in this condition.”
If Talulah could see through that, there was no reason she couldn’t either.
“Tsk, she really thinks she’s got me all figured out, huh? What if I just up and leave, let you fend for yourself, and make her regret it when she gets back?”
Steven rolled his eyes.
Talulah had clearly seen right through him.
She knew that with his carefree personality, if she wanted to go to the city, he’d definitely follow—meaning her little secret would be exposed.
But now that Alina was sick, getting medicine was unavoidable.
At the same time, Steven would definitely stay behind to take care of her.
A win-win situation for Talulah.
“I think you should totally do that, Mr. Steve. We shouldn’t spoil her, right?”
Alina covered her mouth, stifling a chuckle as she playfully echoed his words.
“Exactly, we shouldn’t let her off so easily. The more she doesn’t want me to go, the more I want to see what kind of interesting secret she’s hiding.”
Despite what he said, Steven still reached over to remove the now-boiling water from the fire.
He gently shook it, letting some of the steam dissipate before glancing at the frail girl beside him.
There were no visible signs of Oripathy on her skin—at least, none on the parts that were exposed.
She still looked clean. But Steven knew better.
Even though she kept smiling like always, the pain she was enduring was something most people couldn’t even imagine.
“But I can’t just sit here and watch you suffer. You didn’t do anything to deserve this.”
With Talulah, Steven often joked around, teasing her whenever he could. But with Alina, it was different.
She was like an angel—gentle, understanding, and endlessly kind.
Even he, someone who prided himself on being a carefree trickster, couldn’t bring himself to make light of her situation.
There was no complicated reason behind it. Simply put, being around her just felt… nice.
She always listened quietly, always responded with a soft voice filled with warmth.
It was as if she could embrace all the sins of the world without judgment.
Maybe this was what a true angel was like.
If he had to put it into words, he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her.
And that was exactly why he couldn’t just stand by and watch her suffer.
“That being said, my treatment isn’t exactly free. You’ll have to do me a favor afterward.”
As he spoke, Steven retrieved a healing potion and a bucket of milk from his inventory, lifting them slightly to show her.
“For example, how about taking me to that mine you mentioned before? That shouldn’t be too hard for you, right?”
It was barely even a request—certainly not something that could be considered "payment."
But as he made the offer, he returned her smile with one of his own.
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Chapter 103: Chapter 103: Don’t Jinx It
Chapter Text
Chapter 103: Don’t Jinx It
When it came to treating Oripathy, Steven’s methods hadn’t changed—just the usual routine.
First, he had Alina drink as much milk as possible.
Then, depending on her condition, he would give her a healing potion.
After that, it was up to fate.
Fortunately, Alina trusted him completely, as if she had no doubt that he would never do anything to harm her.
simply gazed at his face, her expression calm.
Even when the milk caused something inside her body to surge, washing over her insides with an almost unbearable sensation, she bit down on her lip, refusing to let out any sound that might make Steven worry.
By the time he took out a strange-looking potion—one that emitted an eerie pink glow—she was already on the verge of losing consciousness from the pain.
If it had been Talulah instead, the moment she saw the color of the potion, she definitely would have had major doubts about what exactly she was being given.
Thanks to Alina’s cooperation, the treatment process went by quickly.
Practically in real-time, Steven could see her once-pale complexion regain a healthy flush, and her dry, cracked lips return to a soft, hydrated state.
Gone was the sickly, frail girl from before.
Now, she looked just like an ordinary girl next door, someone who had never suffered from illness at all.
In reality, Steven had already cured most of her Oripathy symptoms with just the milk treatment.
Given that her infection had only been mild to begin with, this one session was probably enough to keep her free from the disease’s torment for a long time.
If it weren’t for the fact that Talulah would no doubt make a big deal out of Alina’s sudden recovery and pester him endlessly, Steven would’ve completely cured her on the spot.
But something told him that Talulah was hiding something important.
If she found out about this, it might become even more troublesome than dealing with Rhodes Island.
For now, Alina had him around, so she didn’t have to worry.
He figured he might as well wait until he finished his business in Ursus before curing her fully.
Once he did, he’d just leave immediately—so even if Talulah wanted to come after him with questions, she wouldn’t get the chance.
“It’s only natural for Talulah to be curious sometimes. Even I, after witnessing your incredible techniques firsthand, can’t help but feel an urge to uncover the secrets behind them.”
Wiping the sweat from her forehead—sweat that had come from enduring the pain of the treatment—Alina tilted her head slightly and looked at Steven with a mix of awe and contemplation.
She knew exactly what kind of disease she had.
Oripathy wasn’t something that could be cured so easily.
Her parents had died from it.
The Infected Patrol Squads despised people afflicted with it.
And yet, with just two mysterious potions from Steven, she now felt as if she had been reborn.
The crushing fatigue that Oripathy had inflicted on her body was completely gone.
In fact, she felt even healthier than she did before she got sick.
If Steven were willing to share these potions with the world, they would undoubtedly cause a massive uproar.
“No, no, don’t even start. It’s already exhausting enough dealing with just her. I don’t need you adding to the trouble.”
Steven shook his head.
Talulah was already like a living embodiment of "one hundred thousand whys." She had an endless supply of questions and absolutely no hesitation in asking them.
The woman had perfected the art of being shamelessly inquisitive, and it was downright exhausting.
In that sense, she was actually quite similar to him.
But just because they were alike didn’t mean he could handle it.
“But Mr. Steve, isn’t that precisely what you like about her? At the very least, you don’t dislike her, do you?”
Alina tried to sit up, but Steven immediately pushed her back down, pulling the blanket over her once more.
“I wouldn’t say I ‘like’ her, exactly. I just find her interesting. She’s got a good heart, and I don’t dislike people who have the courage to be themselves.”
Steven waved his hand dismissively.
There was no way he could ever be into someone like Talulah.
Her personality was… well, a little too stubborn for her own good.
On top of that, she was an idealist—one of those people who would go to great lengths for their cause.
Just like that time when she forced a kiss on him.
If he ever actually fell for a girl like her, he’d be in for a world of trouble.
“So you see it too, Mr. Steve?” Alina sighed, shaking her head. “With the way Talulah is, it’s only a matter of time before she runs into serious problems.”
Having spent far more time with Talulah than Steven had, Alina understood her flaws well.
Talulah was, without a doubt, a good person.
She was also a noble idealist.
But that was exactly what made her most vulnerable—idealists like her tended to back themselves into a corner.
If her beliefs were ever shattered, she would start to question herself.
And if no one was there to pull her back, she might end up taking things to a dangerous extreme.
“Not my problem.” Steven shrugged. “Anyway, you should be feeling a lot better now. Rest up for today. I’m gonna go see what exactly she’s trying to keep hidden from everyone. I’ll check in on you tomorrow—don’t forget that favor you promised me.”
Whether Talulah ended up going off the deep end was up to her.
Her choices were hers to make.
He had no interest in steering someone else’s destiny.
She could walk whatever path she wanted. He wasn’t about to play the role of a guide.
“But I wanted to ask you for a favor, Mr. Steve—”
“Nope. You don’t. You’re fine now. Don’t even try the whole ‘final request’ thing on me.”
Alina opened her mouth to speak, but Steven was already shutting her down.
He didn’t know exactly what she was about to say, but he’d seen this situation way too many times before.
This was the classic setup for a death flag.
And he wasn’t about to accept a flag like that.
Accepting this kind of request was a guaranteed way to end up with some stupidly dramatic burden—and worse, it practically guaranteed Alina wouldn’t survive.
As far as he was concerned, people who made final requests never lived long afterward.
So, without hesitation, he nipped it in the bud.
Standing up, he casually folded his chair before making his way toward the door.
“You’re right, it was selfish of me,” Alina murmured, watching his retreating figure. She shook her head apologetically. “Asking you to do something like that would only trouble you further… I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah, just focus on getting better. Besides, she’s not dumb. It’s not like she’s gonna screw up that easily.”
Steven waved his hand without turning back. “And if she ever does need help, well… as long as she’s willing to pay, I wouldn’t mind handling things for her.”
With that, he left Alina’s room.
Talulah’s little secret had piqued his interest.
Forget whether or not her idealism would lead her into trouble—just the fact that she had gone to a mobile city alone was intriguing enough.
Steven had never seen one of those so-called mobile cities before.
Aside from Rhodes Island’s mobile fortress, he had no real concept of what they looked like.
Kal'tsit had mentioned that they were built as a means to survive Catastrophes, but he still couldn’t fully picture them without seeing one firsthand.
So, he had already been thinking about visiting a mobile city at some point.
And now, thanks to Talulah, he had the perfect excuse.
At this point, there was no avoiding it—he was going to the mobile city. The only question was, in what manner should he make his entrance?
Bringing along his signature pumpkin head would be a little too flashy. But sneaking in like some random nobody? That sounded too boring.
Maybe… he should create another disguise?
He’d always liked the idea of playing a blind swordsman wielding a cursed blade.
And if any fools decided to get in his way, well… it’d be the perfect chance to let [Yamato] taste some fresh blood.
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Chapter 104: Chapter 104: Nothing Good Comes from That Guy
Chapter Text
Chapter 104: Nothing Good Comes from That Guy
Rhodes Island Medical Department.
Right now, the green-haired cat girl known as Kal'tsit was intently studying a vial of strange red-glowing liquid in front of her.
The composition of this thing was completely unlike anything that should exist in this world, let alone something capable of such terrifyingly potent healing effects.
But what confused her the most was the fact that, after conducting several analyses on the potion, she somehow detected traces of… watermelon.
Watermelon.
Since when did watermelon have any medicinal properties?
At this point, she was beginning to question whether everything she had learned about medicine up until now had been completely pointless.
As she struggled to make sense of her findings, the door to the medical department suddenly swung open.
A petite, white-haired girl walked in with a wry smile.
"Warfarin? Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me when I’m in the middle of an experiment? Don’t tell me those Abyssal Hunters are wrecking the place again?"
Recognizing the visitor, Kal'tsit’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly.
The only person bold enough to interrupt her research was none other than the Sarkaz doctor standing before her.
"No, nothing like that. Their usual demolition projects? I don’t even bother intervening anymore unless they start causing real trouble. That brat who keeps yelling about her ‘dad’ will calm down once she wears herself out. Besides, Skadi’s keeping an eye on them, so the damage shouldn’t be too severe."
Just hearing about the Abyssal Hunters was enough to give Warfarin a headache.
Those three were like humanoid dinosaurs—when it came to destruction, they made huskies look like well-behaved house pets.
They had already wrecked three different medical wards, and that was with them trying to tone things down.
"Then why are you here? You’ve been busy obsessing over that guy’s leftovers—what’s so important that you had to come find me?"
Kal'tsit was puzzled.
She wasn’t the only one researching the healing potion left behind by Steven—Warfarin was even more obsessed with it than she was.
In fact, Kal'tsit had to go through quite a bit of effort just to obtain these samples from her in the first place.
So for Warfarin to rush over in the middle of her research, it had to be something urgent.
"Don’t tell me you made a breakthrough? Did you finally figure out how to recreate this potion?"
There was a flicker of expectation in Kal'tsit’s eyes.
Warfarin—nicknamed “Bloodlord”—was just as much of a medical expert as she was.
If anyone could crack the mystery behind this potion, it would be her.
Unfortunately, Kal'tsit was about to be disappointed.
Warfarin shook her head.
If she had actually made a breakthrough, she wouldn’t be wearing such a helpless expression.
"That guy’s concoctions are just as mysterious as he is. Honestly, I’m starting to think he gave us this potion specifically so we’d waste our time on it and leave him alone. And knowing him, he totally would."
Just thinking about Steven made Warfarin’s expression twist further.
There was no other way to describe him—he was just insane.
And yet, everything about him was wrapped in deeper and deeper layers of secrecy, each more important than the last.
"So this is about him?"
"Yeah. See for yourself."
Warfarin let out a sigh, then pulled a newspaper from her coat and handed it to Kal'tsit, who had already set aside the sample she was analyzing.
Kal'tsit glanced at the bold, exaggerated headline:
"Shocking! A Headless Horseman Appears on the Frontier—Ghosts Stalking the Snowfields—Are the City Guards in Peril? Or Is This the Work of an Infected Organization?"
The article’s title was as sensational as ever, clearly designed to attract as much attention as possible.
Kal'tsit was about to skim past it indifferently—until she saw the description of the so-called Headless Horseman.
At that moment, she found it impossible to remain calm.
Kal'tsit tightened her grip on the newspaper, nearly tearing it in half.
Her emerald-green eyes narrowed as she read the description.
A glowing pumpkin-shaped helmet, purple-black luminescent armor, immense strength, and a similarly purple-black longsword.
It was practically screaming Steven’s identity, short of printing his actual ID number on the front page.
There was no way this so-called “Headless Horseman” was anyone else.
"He’s only been gone from Rhodes Island for a few days, and he’s already causing trouble with the locals?"
Pressing her fingers against her forehead, Kal'tsit let out a sigh.
She had long accepted that it was impossible for Steven to not attract trouble, but she hadn’t expected him to make headline news in less than two weeks.
The only silver lining was that this report wasn’t from an official Ursus newspaper. That meant while he had been exposed, he likely hadn’t drawn the attention of Ursus’ higher-ups yet—or if he had, they hadn’t deemed him important enough to act on.
"That’s exactly what I’m worried about," Warfarin admitted. "With his personality—and considering Ursus' current political climate—it’s hard to believe he won’t end up clashing with some truly terrifying figures."
"And you think sending a messenger to tell him to keep a low profile is going to work?"
Kal'tsit rubbed her temples, feeling a headache brewing.
Finding Steven wasn’t the problem.
The real issue was who could possibly stop him if they did.
That man was simply not the type to follow orders.
"Chance of success? Pretty much zero," Warfarin sighed. "So, for now, all we can do is pray—that when he does come back, he hasn't turned the entire Ursus Empire against him."
To be honest, Warfarin hadn’t expected Kal'tsit to have a solution.
She came here to share the information, not because she thought Kal'tsit could do anything about it.
After all, misery loves company.
If she had to deal with this headache, she might as well make sure Kal'tsit had to suffer with her.
"I see," Kal'tsit muttered, her cat ears drooping slightly. "So… you must have other news, right? Hopefully, something good?"
Her tone was half hopeful, half exhausted.
"Well… If I told you this next piece of news also involves him, do you think it’d be good or bad?"
Warfarin smirked slightly.
It was rare to see Kal'tsit looking so defeated.
In fact, the only time she ever looked this utterly helpless was when Steven was involved.
It was almost poetic.
"Just tell me. I can handle it."
Kal'tsit’s expression had already crumpled the moment Warfarin mentioned Steven again.
She knew better than to expect anything good when it came to him.
"The Iberian Inquisition sent word. They requested that we ‘ensure his safety at all costs’ and stated that they will be dispatching a team to personally escort him back to Iberia for… negotiations."
Kal'tsit’s eye twitched.
Warfarin wasn’t finished.
"From what I can gather, it seems he made some kind of deal with them before leaving Iberia. And now, those old fossils practically worship him. If we tell them he ran off days ago, what kind of reaction do you think they’ll have?"
Warfarin smirked slightly, remembering the desperate expression of the Iberian messenger who had practically begged to have Steven returned to them immediately.
Honestly, what the hell did he even do in Iberia?
Did he rebuild their entire lost fleet or something?
However, Kal'tsit just shook her head and covered her entire face with her hands.
"Tell them the truth. Just say that when that guy is done playing around, he’ll come back on his own. We’ll notify them when that happens."
The mere thought of dealing with Steven's antics made her head throb. But she had to stay calm and handle the situation rationally.
Rather than lying to the Iberians, it was better to be upfront.
After all, Steven’s decisions had nothing to do with Rhodes Island.
If the Iberians wanted to be angry, they couldn’t blame Rhodes for it.
At most, it would cause them some trouble later, but nothing they couldn’t handle.
"Alright then," Warfarin shrugged. "One last thing—this time, from the Outcast crew. They wanted me to ask you something."
"How should we fill out Steven’s profile in the terminal records?"
"You’re the only one who has some kind of grasp on his actual strength… right?"
Warfarin blinked expectantly at Kal'tsit.
Everyone knew Steven was strong—that much was obvious.
But just how strong? That was still a complete mystery.
"I’ve never seen that guy go all out," Kal'tsit admitted. "And to be honest, I hope I never have to."
She raised an eyebrow.
Warfarin had come to her with three different issues, and all three were about Steven.
Any good mood she had earlier?
Gone.
She sighed, then finally gave her answer.
"Just mark all of his files as top-secret. No need to bother filling out his combat test results either."
"If even those three Abyssal Hunters aren’t enough to give him a challenge, then forget about assigning him a standard ranking."
Having given her final verdict, Kal'tsit practically collapsed into her chair.
She felt even more drained than after pulling several all-nighters.
"That bastard… He’s not even here, and he’s still making my life harder."
<+>
Meanwhile, at the Ursus Border
The very same Steven, who had been occupying Kal'tsit’s thoughts, was standing atop a massive boulder, gazing up at the towering mobile city in the distance.
He casually ran a hand over his blade, [Yamato], while adjusting the handcrafted straw hat resting on his head.
His entire look had changed—now he was dressed just like a wandering swordsman.
Honestly, even if he stood right in front of Talulah, she might not even recognize him.
He had considered going with his signature white hair gel look, but that would’ve meant sacrificing his second-jump knee durability.
So in the end, he settled for this outfit instead.
Of course, he had no idea about the chaos he had already caused for Kal'tsit back at Rhodes Island.
Right now, his only concern was figuring out how to sneak into this mobile city and locate Talulah.
"Huh… This world’s a lot more developed than I expected," Steven mused, taking in the city’s skyline.
"I thought it’d be all post-apocalyptic wastelands, but this place actually looks pretty well-built."
From a glance, the city was about the size of a municipal district back in his old world.
The only major difference?
The heavily armed Ursus soldiers stationed at the gates, rifles at the ready.
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Chapter 105: Chapter 105: Do You Just Love Crawling Through Sewers?
Chapter Text
Chapter 105: Do You Just Love Crawling Through Sewers?
Seeing soldiers stationed at a city’s entrance was something Steven had only ever seen in period dramas and war films. But considering how this world was one that of a gacha game, he didn’t dwell on it too much.
Watching the soldiers search each traveler for contraband, pat down their bodies, and demand bribes, Steven thought for a moment—then decided against waiting in line for a proper entry.
He could tolerate a bag check, sure.
But the idea of a two-meter-tall, thickly furred brute running his hands all over him?
Absolutely not.
Downing an invisibility potion, Steven casually strolled right through the main entrance, completely unnoticed.
Once inside, he ducked into an empty alleyway, dispelled the potion’s effect, and finally took a moment to soak in his surroundings.
Up close, the city was nothing like he had expected.
The roads weren’t jammed with cars the way cities in his old world were, but to his surprise—this world actually had automobiles.
They were few, but he could see several vehicles driving around that were mechanically similar to cars.
Judging by their design, they were likely powered by Originium energy.
Steven barely spared them a glance.
"Looks like another plaything for the rich," he mused.
And since these vehicles could only operate inside mobile cities, their actual practicality seemed rather limited.
As far as transportation went, Steven still preferred something more magical—like skeletal horses or dragons.
It wasn’t that he disliked cars.
He just found them a little too basic for his tastes.
If it were something like a Goblin Glider from Marvel, now that would be interesting.
As for the city's residents, Steven found them indistinguishable from ordinary urban dwellers.
They dressed cleanly, their faces etched with exhaustion, weighed down by the burdens of daily work.
They looked exactly like the overworked corporate drones he used to see in his past life.
The only difference?
Most of them had some degree of non-human traits—a pair of bear-like ears, thick fur, or clawed hands.
In fact, the most common feature he had seen so far belonged to bear-type beastmen.
Compared to Rhodes Island, which looked more like an actual zoo, the population here seemed much less diverse.
To blend in, Steven made a minor compromise—he stuck two feathers on his head.
At the very least, this made him passable as a Liberi instead of… whatever unidentifiable species people always mistook him for.
He had been asked about his race so many times that even he was getting tired of it.
With that issue resolved, his outlandish outfit and armed appearance barely drew any attention.
After all, after just a couple of laps around the city, he had already seen that eight out of every ten people were carrying weapons.
Truly, Ursus was a land of simple and wholesome customs.
After casually wandering the city, Steven confirmed that it had most of the basic infrastructures necessary for daily life.
He scratched his head.
He had originally thought this world was in a constant state of chaos and suffering.
But now?
Things were starting to look a lot more complicated than he had expected.
Wandering casually around the city for a while, Steven confirmed that it had most of the basic infrastructure in place.
He scratched his head.
Originally, he had assumed that most people in this world lived in suffering. But now, things were turning out to be more complicated than he had expected.
At least in this Ursus city, he hadn't seen much disorder. The people, apart from their usual work fatigue, didn't seem oppressed in any obvious way.
Both their appearance and daily lives fit his general impression of ordinary civilians.
The only thing that puzzled him was that after walking around the entire mobile city, he hadn't seen a single Infected.
But according to Kal'tsit, Infected individuals made up a huge portion of the world's population.
So this superficial harmony in the city felt… questionable.
Thinking about it, Steven leisurely strolled toward the hospital.
Finding a specific location in a city without a proper map wasn’t exactly easy.
But it wasn’t that hard either.
As long as you had money, Steven was sure that plenty of locals would suddenly become "helpful"—especially if all they had to do was point in a direction to earn some quick cash.
Sure enough, it didn’t take long for him to find the city’s largest hospital.
He stopped at the entrance, taking in the scene.
The hospital was busy—even busier than Rhodes Island’s medical facilities.
But strangely, even here, Steven still didn’t see anyone displaying signs of Oripathy infection.
Most of the patients seemed to be suffering from regular illnesses or injuries.
The flow of people coming and going reminded him of the hospitals from his old world—it felt… almost too normal.
"Weird… This doesn’t make sense. Is Kal'tsit messing with me? Or is this place actually some kind of utopia?"
Frowning, Steven rubbed his chin as he observed the hospital.
He had no intention of going inside.
He had already gotten more than enough exposure to the smell of disinfectants back at Rhodes Island.
He wasn’t about to step into a hospital for no reason.
Thinking things over, Steven figured there was only one person who could answer his questions.
Opening his minimap, he scanned the city’s layout.
Within seconds, he spotted a silver-haired cartoon-style icon—one he had marked long ago.
"She went into the sewer district? Is she a dragon or a rat? Why does it feel like she's definitely up to no good?"
Scratching his head, Steven couldn't understand why Talulah would be in a place like that.
From her clothing, demeanor, and overall style, she was clearly from a noble background.
Someone like that sneaking around in a sewer?
That just didn’t fit her image at all.
With that thought in mind, Steven made his way toward Talulah’s location.
Along the way, several police-like enforcers questioned him.
But the moment they saw he didn’t have exposed Originium crystals, they let him go without issue.
They had dealt with enough weird-looking wanderers to know that most of them were at least a little unhinged.
As long as he wasn’t causing trouble in front of them, they honestly couldn’t be bothered.
Steven was more than happy to be ignored.
It saved him from a lot of unnecessary trouble.
<+>
Looking up at what was clearly the sewage system entrance of this mobile city, Steven wrinkled his nose at the odor drifting out from within.
Why do underground organizations always like to hide in places like this?
Or was it because they were called underground organizations that they had to set up their bases underground?
From his minimap, Steven could already tell that a large group of people was gathered ahead.
That made him even more curious about what exactly Talulah was up to.
With that thought in mind, he dug open the sturdy iron gate blocking the entrance and stepped into the dimly lit sewer tunnels.
Fortunately, the stench seemed to be mainly concentrated at the entrance—probably meant to discourage anyone from venturing inside.
After walking a bit deeper, the smell faded away.
However, what replaced it gave Steven a sense of inevitable confirmation.
It was the scent of blood—a mixture of fresh blood and Originium dust from infected bodies.
So this was where the Infected had been forced to live.
Hidden like rats, struggling to survive in the shadows.
Steven scratched his head.
Sure, it was sad, but at the same time… this was getting interesting.
Talulah's reason for coming here intrigued him even more.
Just as he was about to reach Talulah’s marked location on the minimap, a noise from ahead in the darkness made him stop in his tracks.
"Halt! Who goes there?!"
A group of figures in eerie white masks suddenly emerged from a corner, blocking Steven’s path.
At the same time, he noticed that the exit behind him had also been sealed off—more masked figures standing there, weapons in hand.
From them, Steven could clearly sense the presence of Infected individuals.
That alone confirmed his earlier suspicions—the Infected in this city were indeed forced into hiding.
And from the hostility in their eyes, it was obvious…
Being backed into a corner had made them much less friendly.
Seeing the cold glint of steel from their weapons, Steven let out a soft chuckle and calmly stopped in his tracks.
"Relax, I’m just here to meet a friend. No need to be so tense—though even if you were, it wouldn’t matter."
He didn’t even bother to put his hand on [Yamato].
Instead, he simply glanced over this ragtag group of Infected—aside from their matching masks, they barely looked different from common vagabonds.
They weren’t even as well-equipped as the Infected Patrol Squad he had encountered before.
They were a little better than the helpless elderly and children from the village, but…
Only barely.
Honestly, even if he did nothing and just let them strike him, their arm would probably break after launching a punch once.
Of course, these guys didn’t know that.
And they certainly weren’t buying his words.
The tension in the air didn’t ease at all.
None of them lowered their weapons—if anything, the moment he made a wrong move, they looked ready to stab him without a second thought.
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Chapter 106: Chapter 106: Am I Wrong?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 106: Am I Wrong?
Just as the situation was growing increasingly tense, a familiar young woman's voice suddenly rang out, breaking the standoff.
"Let him through. He's here to see me."
A silver-haired girl in a formal dress stepped forward from behind the group of masked figures.
After confirming the unmistakable presence of the young man standing in the middle of the encirclement—his indescribable aura and the voice that matched her memory—she furrowed her brows and spoke to the Infected surrounding him.
However, they didn’t immediately obey her command.
Instead, their gazes shifted to the masked man standing beside Talulah.
"Miss Talulah, you never mentioned that you'd be bringing along a non-Infected companion."
The man's tone carried obvious suspicion, though after a brief moment, he waved his hand, signaling the Infected fighters to back off.
"He came here on his own. It has nothing to do with me—he's always been this reckless."
Talulah sighed, rubbing her temple as she looked at the grinning young man casually waving at her.
He should be with Alina right now, shouldn’t he?
The village was so far from this mobile city, and yet he not only made it here so quickly but also found her exact location with pinpoint accuracy.
Did this guy have some kind of Perro bloodline or something?
Otherwise, how was he so good at tracking people?
"Also, let me give you a word of advice—don’t try provoking him for no reason."
Talulah glanced at the Infected fighters who, despite retreating, still clutched their weapons tightly.
She sighed again and added, "He's not as easy going as I am. Frankly, even all of you combined might not be able to put up a fight against him."
She wasn’t exaggerating.
From what she had seen firsthand, Steven was easily strong enough to take on an entire Infected Patrol Squad by himself.
And that was definitely not his limit.
Even she wasn’t confident she could beat him in a one-on-one fight.
As for this group of ragtag fighters, who had nothing but weapons?
They weren’t even qualified to be cannon fodder.
"But he’s not like you. He’s not one of us—he’s not Infected. We can’t trust him."
The masked man’s sharp gaze locked onto Steven, filled with deep skepticism.
Just as he said, those who had suffered oppression for so long could never trust an outsider who was not one of them.
Steven, who had barely been holding back, finally couldn't resist speaking up.
"Ahem, actually, I’m just a passing doctor. I only came here to find that young lady over there. As for you guys?"
He waved a hand dismissively.
"I couldn’t care less."
He was only interested in Talulah—whether these Infected lived or died had nothing to do with him.
Maybe if something interesting happened, he’d stick around to watch, but aside from that?
He had zero interest in getting involved.
Unfortunately, his words had little effect.
The masked man merely let out a cold chuckle before shifting his gaze back to Talulah.
"I’ll vouch for him."
Talulah exhaled sharply and finally made her decision.
"He really is just a friend looking for me. Whether you believe it or not, that’s the truth."
Honestly, she wanted to say she didn’t even know this guy, but she knew that would only make things worse.
Why did this guy have to show up now of all times?
Right when she was in the middle of a gathering with the Infected?
"……"
A brief silence fell over the group.
Then, after a few seconds, the masked man finally relented.
"Let him through."
After giving the order, he turned around and disappeared into a hidden entrance nearby, leaving his cautious subordinates still eyeing Steven with suspicion.
As the Infected fighters finally stepped aside, Steven was finally able to walk freely to Talulah’s side.
"Why is it that every time you enter a city, you end up crawling through the sewers?"
He glanced disdainfully at the masked Infected around them—not because of their status as Infected, but because this place was simply disgusting.
"Alina’s been worrying about you, you know? She was afraid you were sneaking around behind her back, doing something shady."
"Oh, you have the nerve to say that to me?"
Talulah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re causing me right now?"
This guy!
She hadn’t even started scolding him yet, and he was already complaining about her?
Steven shrugged nonchalantly.
"Trouble? What trouble? I just came here to find you. It’s not my fault these guys aren’t very friendly. That’s their problem, not mine."
If Talulah hadn’t stopped them just now, these fools would’ve rushed him, and he would’ve had no choice but to add a few more bodies to [Yamato]’s count.
Steven loved opponents like these—hotheaded fools who didn’t think before they acted.
Unlike Kal'tsit and those other crafty old schemers, these guys were straightforward.
If they wanted to fight him, then he had every reason to see them as enemies, right?
Talulah rubbed her forehead in exasperation.
"Do you ever stop to think about the reality of the situation?"
"You’re not an Infected. Do you have any idea how deep the divide is between the Infected and non-Infected in Ursus?"
Steven simply shook his head.
"Why would I care? I just think their actions are bad. And if something is bad, does it really change to good just because of the country or the circumstances?"
"I don’t think so."
To him, Infected and non-Infected were no different.
It wasn’t a matter of ideology or politics—it was just common sense.
Alina was also an Infected, but she never acted like this.
"You…"
Talulah opened her mouth, but for once, she had no idea how to respond.
She had always known she was a bit idealistic, but after hearing Steven’s words, she realized something—
There were people even more naive than her.
Steven gave her a look.
"What? Am I wrong?"
Not waiting for her response, he walked with her through the hidden entrance and began to take in his new surroundings.
Compared to the outside world, where the city still looked normal on the surface, this underground shelter was exactly what he had imagined when he first heard about the wasteland of this world.
Infected huddled together, sitting or lying down wherever they could find space.
Their bony figures and sallow faces made it obvious—they hadn’t seen the sun in a long, long time.
The masked Infected from before now played the role of caretakers, handing out food and water to the others.
Though, when Steven looked closer at what they were distributing…
That black, unidentifiable sludge?
It was hard to even call that ‘food.’
The whole scene reminded him of the poorest, most miserable slums he had ever seen.
"Why are these people living in such misery? Are they not Ursus citizens too?"
Steven frowned as he turned to Talulah, asking the question despite already having a rough idea of the answer.
Talulah let out a cold laugh.
"In Ursus, Infected aren't considered Ursus citizens at all."
"Do you think they chose to hide away in this filthy place?"
"No. They were forced here by those in power."
She wished she could ask this same question to the rulers of this country.
But the reality was cruel.
To most people in this nation, the Infected weren’t even considered human anymore.
"What do you think the Infected Patrol Squads are for?"
Talulah's expression darkened completely.
"The ‘lucky’ ones they capture get sent to work in the mines until they drop dead from exhaustion."
"The unlucky ones?"
"They’re executed on the spot."
She gestured around at their surroundings.
"These people are the ones who managed to escape those patrols."
"They had no choice but to hide in this filthy sewer, clinging to life however they could."
Steven raised an eyebrow.
"And what does any of this have to do with you?"
"Are you the leader of this underground shelter or something?"
Compared to the injustice Talulah had just described—things he had more or less already guessed—Steven was far more curious about her connection to these people.
Because nothing about Talulah—her clothing, mannerisms, or attitude—matched the underground refugee leader type.
If he had to guess, he’d say she had the bearing of nobility—not just any nobility, but someone from a high-ranking household, raised with privilege and power.
In fact, rather than the "princess of the underground", he was more inclined to believe she was the rebellious daughter of some Ursus Grand Duke or high-ranking official.
After all, most movies and novels followed the same pattern:
A villainous tyrant with a righteous, rebellious daughter, who eventually joins the protagonist’s resistance.
After many battles and dramatic conflicts, she finally slays her own father, earning the "filial daughter" title, and fully integrating into the protagonist’s group.
And right now, Talulah perfectly fit that image in Steven’s mind.
Talulah glanced at him, half amused, half exasperated.
"You’re overthinking it."
She shook her head.
"I’ve saved a number of Infected before, and some of them introduced me to the leader of this shelter."
"They invited me to join them, and that’s all there is to it."
Though she had some reputation in this underground shelter, she was hardly its leader.
She had only come here this time to help relocate some Infected out of this mobile city and to secure some medicine for Alina’s Oripathy treatment.
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Chapter 107: Chapter 107: Can Integrity Fill Your Stomach?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 107: Can Integrity Fill Your Stomach?
Steven shrugged.
Whatever Talulah was talking about had little to do with him.
He was only here to call her home for dinner on Alina’s behalf—nothing more, nothing less.
The rest? Not his problem.
However, given the situation, it was clear that these people weren’t going to let him leave so easily.
They were probably worried he’d expose their hideout if he left.
But Steven wasn’t in a hurry to go anyway.
It wasn’t worth picking a fight over something so minor.
Talulah nudged him with her elbow.
"So why are you even here? What about Alina? Are you just leaving her behind?"
"I went through all this trouble to get medicine for her Oripathy treatment, and you couldn’t even wait for me back at the village?"
She was this close to leaving with the medicine in hand.
But then Steven showed up out of nowhere and messed everything up.
Now, these Infected were unlikely to just let them go.
They’d probably interrogate them first, which meant wasting precious time—and Alina needed the medicine urgently.
Steven glanced at the Infected huddled in the corners, coughing violently.
They looked on the verge of death.
He sighed and shook his head.
"Heh. She’s doing a hell of a lot better than you are."
"At least she’s not stuck in a place full of walking time bombs."
He had heard from Kal'tsit that when an Infected dies, their body essentially detonates like an Originium bomb, spreading contamination everywhere.
He hadn’t seen it happen personally.
But he still remembered that near-death moment with the Operator Frostleaf, when her Oripathy nearly killed her.
With this many Infected packed in one underground space, if even one of them died and detonated, the entire city could be doomed.
Noticing his gaze, some of the Infected glared back at him with hostility.
It was obvious that as a non-Infected outsider, Steven was not welcome here.
Talulah’s voice remained firm.
"The Infected are innocent—you know that as well as I do."
"They’re just victims of oppression, nothing more."
She paused, narrowing her eyes.
"But from what you just said... have you already suppressed Alina’s Oripathy?"
Steven smirked.
"Come on, I told you before—I’m a doctor."
"And not just any doctor. I came from Rhodes Island."
"You know, the leading experts in Oripathy research?"
With that, he casually shifted the blame to Rhodes Island.
Since he was already using their identity, he might as well let them take the credit.
Before Talulah could respond, a voice cut into their conversation.
"Ahem."
"Sorry to interrupt your little chat, but before we continue—"
"Miss Talulah, shouldn’t you introduce your... ‘friend’ to us?"
The voice belonged to a man in a mask, clearly the leader of these Infected.
He had led them into a dimly lit room before finally speaking up.
Talulah’s identity was trustworthy—her constant efforts to help the Infected had earned her respect and admiration here.
But Steven?
A normal, uninfected outsider?
Not so much.
Steven blinked, pretending to only just now notice the man’s presence.
Then, he scratched his head.
"Why bother introducing me?"
"It’s not like I want to get to know you people."
"No need for self-introductions."
His outfit gave Steven the impression of being poor yet pretentious.
These people could barely afford food, yet they all wore matching white masks?
Was this some sort of religion?
As for getting to know these people?
Steven had zero interest.
This wasn’t like Rhodes Island, where the Infected at least had the means to support themselves.
These people?
They were the real deal—Infected who had been hardened by oppression and discrimination.
In other words, they’d do anything to survive.
Steven didn’t blame them for that.
But he also knew exactly what that meant—if you crossed them, you were inviting trouble.
The masked man narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Your attitude isn’t exactly friendly, sir."
He hadn’t expected such a response from Steven.
Did this guy not understand his situation?
This was their territory.
His gaze flicked to the strange-looking katana on Steven’s waist.
He silently calculated how many men he’d need to take him down if he refused to cooperate.
Steven didn’t seem to have any Originium Arts—at least, he couldn’t sense any.
Physically?
He looked weak—not too difficult to handle.
After all, not everyone was like Talulah, a walking, talking monster in human form.
This guy?
Just some Lungmen Liberi—nothing special.
If it weren’t for Talulah’s presence, the man would’ve already ordered his people to take Steven away.
Steven snorted.
"Yeah? And why should I be friendly?"
"We don’t know each other. Did you treat me nicely? No, you had people pull weapons on me first."
"If anything, I should be the one asking you to make up for it."
He sized up the masked man.
Judging by his voice, he was probably in his late 30s or early 40s.
His muscular build suggested he was physically strong.
The black Originium crystals embedded in his arms confirmed he was a veteran Infected.
But after hearing his dumb remark, Steven wondered—
Had the Originium infected his brain too?
Steven had no issue playing nice—but only if the other person is nice too.
And from the very beginning, this guy hadn’t planned on being nice at all.
Steven grinned lazily.
"Tell you what—why don’t you apologize first?"
He spoke as if he was completely unbothered by the fact that he was deep in enemy territory.
Even when he noticed the man’s clenched fists, he just smirked, curious to see how he’d react.
Because if this guy couldn’t even tell whether someone was dangerous, then this Infected group was better off disbanding immediately.
The masked man stared at him in disbelief.
Then, he laughed angrily.
"You want me to apologize?"
He almost thought he had misheard.
A random outsider had barged into their territory, refused to explain himself, and now wanted an apology?
Who the hell did he think he was?
Before things could escalate, Talulah finally spoke up.
"Enough, Brull."
The masked man—Brull—expected her to defend him.
Instead, she said something that made his blood run cold.
"You should apologize."
"That is—if you want to keep this Infected sanctuary intact."
Brull’s eyes widened.
"Are you insane?"
Talulah frowned.
"He’s more dangerous than the city’s guards."
"And let me make this clear—neither you nor your men stand a chance against him."
Brull froze.
Talulah wasn’t the type to exaggerate.
Which meant—
This random outsider was actually...
That dangerous?
Talulah sighed.
Brull might be a great leader for the Infected, but his blind hostility toward outsiders could be a problem.
It was understandable, but it didn’t mean he had the right to pick fights he couldn’t win.
Talulah had no control over this guy’s temperament.
Who knew if he'd snap and tear this whole place apart just for fun?
Steven casually added:
"Just to clarify—it's not just you. All of you together still wouldn't be enough."
Forget these Infected.
Even if Talulah and the entire Ursus garrison joined forces, he wouldn’t break a sweat dealing with them.
Steven crossed his arms, exuding the exact aura of a tyrant—
Which, to be fair, wasn’t far from the truth.
He simply stared at the masked man, waiting.
Would he ignore Talulah’s warning?
If so, Steven wouldn’t mind teaching him a lesson in basic manners.
But if he swallowed his pride and backed down, then maybe—just maybe—Steven might think slightly better of him.
Because as a leader, the bare minimum was knowing when to advance and when to retreat.
Steven knew full well he was being difficult.
But this was a test.
How far was this so-called leader willing to go for his people?
Would he risk everything for his ego?
Or was he truly dedicated to the Infected under his care?
Because Talulah was involved.
Steven didn't care much for the Infected.
But Talulah?
She was at least a little bit important to him.
Maybe even a friend, if you stretched the definition.
The masked man hesitated.
Talulah’s strength was undeniable—he knew that firsthand.
And if even she was warning him…
Then this situation was far more dangerous than he’d assumed.
He couldn't afford to gamble.
Not with his own life.
And definitely not with the lives of everyone in this sanctuary.
After a long pause, he finally relented.
"I apologize. My attitude earlier was too reckless."
He bowed deeply toward Steven, his movements shockingly swift and decisive.
Steven blinked.
For a second, he almost didn’t react in time.
Damn, that was fast.
Terra was really something else.
Why was everyone so good at swallowing their pride?
Did no one have any backbone these days?
Steven sighed dramatically.
"Couldn’t you at least have a little more dignity?"
Brull, still bowing, responded calmly:
"Dignity won't save my fellow Infected. But accepting reality might."
Steven nodded slightly.
Alright, maybe this Brull guy wasn’t a complete fool.
His judgment sucked, but at least he knew how to adapt.
That meant he probably did genuinely care about his people.
But what did that have to do with him?
All he knew was that he won't be fighting these guys.
What a shame.
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Chapter 108: Chapter 108: I’m Just Passing By
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
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Chapter 108: I’m Just Passing By
Steven shook his head in disappointment and stopped paying attention to the man in front of him.
Instead, he turned to look at Talulah.
“So, this is why you came to this nomadic city? To conspire with these people on some shady, unspeakable scheme?”
He already knew that this girl would never be content spending her days in some backwater village.
If it were Alina, maybe.
But Talulah? No chance.
But getting tangled up with these Infected?
That was basically declaring war on Ursus’ entire leadership.
Steven didn’t think much of her plan.
Mainly because she didn’t look all that strong.
“Yes. They won’t be able to last much longer here.”
“The tundra is full of dangers, but at least there’s a chance of survival.”
“Maybe I can do something to help them.”
Talulah nodded, looking at Steven expectantly.
She knew this would be difficult.
But she also knew that if he was willing to help, then this plan would become much, much easier.
Steven glanced at Brull and then back at Talulah.
“Wait, are they paying you a lot or something?”
Because these people looked dirt poor.
They probably barely had enough food to survive.
They definitely didn’t seem like they could afford any kind of reward.
When she helped her village, that made sense.
They were her neighbors, her friends.
But these people?
They weren’t even close to that level.
“No. I’m doing this because I want to.”
“To me, whether they’re Infected or ordinary people, everyone has the right to live on this land.”
“Oppression shouldn’t exist.”
“And what I want to do—is fight against it.”
"So—"
Talulah started to say more, but Steven had already taken a step back, looking genuinely uncomfortable as he waved his hands frantically.
“Whoa, whoa, hold on—this has nothing to do with me.”
“If you wanna be a saint, I won’t stop you.”
“But don’t drag me into it.”
“I’m just a simple, innocent boy passing by, here to call you home for dinner.”
Steven now looked at Talulah like she was a walking bundle of trouble.
His instincts screamed at him—
Stay away.
People like her only brought misery to those around them.
It wasn’t that Steven disliked people like Talulah.
Quite the opposite.
He admired her selflessness.
Her determination.
Her love for the world.
But did he want to be like her?
Hell no.
That was a one-way ticket to suffering.
“You can do whatever you want.”
“It’s your life, your choice.”
“But don’t try to involve me.”
“No matter how much you’re willing to pay—this kind of thing is a hard pass.”
Idealists either died for their ideals or got betrayed by them, lost in the very cause they pursued.
Steven had never experienced that pain himself.
But he’d read plenty of stories about it.
He enjoyed watching drama unfold.
But a tragic ending?
That was something he’d rather not see.
“Hey, I haven’t even said anything yet—”
“Why are you shutting me down before I even get a word in?”
“Now what am I supposed to say next?”
Talulah let out a sigh.
She felt a little helpless at Steven’s response, but at the same time, she knew exactly how difficult the path she had chosen was.
“Then don’t continue the conversation.”
“You do your thing, I’ll just head back.”
Steven shook his head.
In reality, what Talulah wanted to do wasn’t that hard.
Getting these people out of the city was difficult, sure, but it wasn’t impossible.
The real challenge?
What to do with them afterward.
Once she helped them for free—
Once she showed them kindness—
They would start seeing it as an expectation, not a gift.
Not that Steven wanted to think too poorly of people, but even he had to admit:
That’s just human nature.
And that’s why, no matter what, he always demanded payment for his help.
Sure, he could be charitable sometimes.
But only when he chose to be.
Not because it was his responsibility.
Maybe Talulah understood this too.
Maybe she knew that sooner or later, these people would turn on her.
Not because they were evil, but because people simply took things for granted.
And when that betrayal finally came, that would be the beginning of a tragedy.
Steven wanted nothing to do with that.
So he did the smartest thing possible.
Run.
He couldn’t help them.
But he sure as hell could avoid them.
With a quick farewell, Steven vanished—
A gust of wind whipping through the room as he disappeared in an instant.
Talulah could only watch helplessly, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement.
That guy had bolted like his life depended on it.
Was she really that scary?
Did he really need to run that fast?
But if Talulah was just mildly surprised, then Brull was completely shocked.
Steven’s speed was beyond anything he had ever seen.
His eyes couldn’t even track how the guy moved.
Even the guards at the entrance were confused.
Something had just shot past them, but they had no idea what it was.
It was just too fast.
“Your friend… that speed is a little…”
Brull’s voice was filled with disbelief.
“I already told you.”
“You should be grateful you didn’t piss him off.”
Talulah’s mood wasn’t great after being rejected.
So she simply responded coldly before walking away.
Brull was left alone, clutching his chest, processing what just happened.
And the only thought in his mind was—
Thank god I didn’t piss him off.
Forget everything else, with speed like that, that guy could have wiped out the entire sanctuary in mere moments.
At this point, Brull no longer even considered the possibility that Steven was a Infected Patrol Squad agent.
If he was?
Then no one in this sanctuary would have made it out alive.
But then—
Why?
Why would such a powerful person, after talking with Talulah, run away like that?
Could it be that Talulah was actually stronger?
Could it be that the “Savior” of the Infected was actually their greatest hope?
With completely the wrong idea, Brull made a firm decision in his heart.
No matter what, he had to convince Talulah to stay.
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Chapter 109: Chapter 109: Are You Teaching Me How to Do Things?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
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Chapter 109: Are You Teaching Me How to Do Things?
Walking along the road leading from the mobile city back to the village, Steven frowned, lost in thought about Talulah.
Right now, he was feeling conflicted.
Which was odd.
Because, logically speaking, his mindset shouldn’t even allow for things like “conflict.”
After all, as the saying goes—
“A madman has no worries,” right?
And yet, here he was.
Irritated.
To be precise, he felt like there was something stuck in his mind, like a knot he couldn’t untangle.
Talulah was pushing herself deeper into the fire, step by step.
And he had the power to pull her out.
Or—
He could give her one last shove—
And send her plunging straight into the flames of her so-called ‘ideals.’
But either choice would piss him off.
It wasn’t that he looked down on idealists.
In fact, it was the opposite.
Because he could never be one, he had a deep respect for those who could.
If he helped Talulah, that meant getting dragged into the mess of the Infected.
And staying an uninvolved bystander would become impossible.
But if he didn’t help, and just let her struggle and eventually get betrayed—
That ending would be even more frustrating.
At the end of the day, he still had too many emotions to be a true ‘spectator.’
He still wasn’t the “carefree observer” he wanted to be.
And then, a strange voice spoke in his ear.
[You’re just a poor imitation.]
[Pretending to be the kind of person you think you want to be.]
The moment he heard it, Steven’s entire mood flipped.
His irritation vanished, replaced with sudden excitement.
Wait. What?
Who just spoke to him?
His eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings—
But there was no one nearby.
What the hell is this?
Someone talking to me from inside my own mind?
Wait.
Could it be—
His long-awaited isekai protagonist cheat ability had finally activated?!
A system?
But then, why the hell wasn’t it in a cute anime girl voice?!
Could he request a voice pack change?
Just as he was grappling with this absurdity, the voice spoke again.
[Who I am doesn’t matter.]
[What matters is—do you even know who you want to become?]
The voice was neutral, rough, and impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman.
But one thing was certain—
It sounded terrible.
Steven clicked his tongue.
“What the hell is this? Some cryptic nonsense?”
“What, did I accidentally unlock the male version of ‘Kal’tsit Voice Pack’ or something?”
“Can I change it to that instead? At least her voice sounds nice, I can just treat it as an ASMR.”
Steven frowned.
After confirming that the voice was indeed coming from his own consciousness, he took one last glance at his status screen.
[Black Snake Consciousness: Duration ∞]
Oh.
Well.
That explained it.
Now that he’d found the source of the problem, Steven quickly regained his composure.
He knew this Status Ailment very well.
Talulah also had something on her that sounded similar.
So this thing is spreadable?
Scratching his head, Steven didn’t immediately try to purge the Status Ailment with milk.
Instead, he found the whole situation pretty damn interesting.
From the way the voice was talking, it seemed like it had accessed a part of his thoughts.
But—
Had it managed to break through the barrier to his deepest memories?
Had it seen the fact that he was a transmigrator?
Steven decided to test it.
“I am Steve.”
“I am also Steven.”
“I understand this better than anyone.”
“But tell me—”
“Do you know what other identity I have?”
He spoke directly to the consciousness in his mind, waiting in anticipation for its answer.
After all, if it really wanted to earn his trust, it should at least be able to reveal his biggest secret, right?
[No. That is not you.]
[The real you should be more free, more unrestricted.]
[Not bound by these meaningless constraints.]
Oh.
So that’s how it is.
Talking in riddles.
Trying to manipulate him.
That meant this thing hadn’t touched his deeper memories.
It was just trying to trick him.
Just from this single exchange, Steven had already figured out its game.
Hell, he could even predict what it was going to say next.
[With your strength, you could easily take control of this world.]
[If you wanted, rebuilding order wouldn’t be difficult at all.]
[But you are still shackled by the so-called ‘bottom line’ in your heart.]
[This is in direct contradiction to your own desire to be a ‘carefree observer.’]
The voice continued its cryptic speech, saying half-understandable nonsense in an attempt to sway him.
But you know what?
Steven had seen this trick too many times before.
The classic ‘inner demon’ routine.
“Let go of your restraints.”
“Do what you truly desire.”
“Don’t think about the consequences.”
Yeah.
Then the moment the protagonist actually listens—
BAMMind-jacked.
The inner demon takes over, the original consciousness gets erased, and boom—
New body, who dis?
Seen it all before.
And it wasn’t impressive.
“And then what? What do you think I should do?”
Steven scratched his head.
To be honest, if he ignored the fact that this voice clearly had ulterior motives, his words were actually pretty inspiring.
It was just like the Western legends of demons, always whispering sweet temptations in people's ears, persuading them to follow their own desires.
No wonder so many people fell for it.
Too bad.
There was one thing this mysterious voice failed to account for—
Steven's brain simply did not work like normal people's.
Even worse, everything the voice was saying was something that Steven had already thought through a long time ago.
Back then, after thinking about such matters for years, he'd promptly tossed those thoughts into the garbage bin of his subconscious.
The longer you live, the more you think.
The more you think, the more you discard.
[It’s not about what I think.]
[It’s about what you truly want to do.]
[If you wish to help her, then assist her in achieving her ideals—]
[Help the Infected attain equal status.]
Steven chuckled.
“Oh, so I should just sit back and watch her drown in her ideals?”
“That does sound pretty amusing.”
His tone was playful, but his eyes were cold.
The problem was, doing that wouldn’t bring him any real satisfaction.
Steven preferred entertainment that made him genuinely laugh, like seeing villains eat dirt right before achieving their goals.
Or watching someone fail spectacularly after showing off too much.
Watching an idealist die for their ideals?
Boring.
Not his type of entertainment.
[You see?]
[You are still restricting yourself.]
[You refuse to embrace what you truly wish to be.]
[You want to be a 'carefree observer,' but you are not truly free.]
The voice in his mind scoffed, as if mocking the persona Steven had built for himself.
"Ha! And that’s where you're wrong."
Steven grinned, shaking his head.
"Humans are complex because of our thoughts."
"Self-restraint is part of that."
"Sure, I want to be a certain way—"
"But that doesn’t mean I have to be that way."
"After all—"
"It’s the me who wants to be something, but hasn't become it—"
"That is the real me."
Steven laughed.
A sharp, mocking laugh.
"You think a little brat like you can teach me how to live?"
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
The voice fell silent.
He had initially assumed that anything capable of sneaking into his consciousness undetected must have profound wisdom.
But in the end, he had overestimated it.
"Now that we’re done talking—"
"Get the hell out of my head."
Steven sighed, shaking his head.
"I don’t appreciate people spying on my thoughts."
"I don’t know how you did it—"
"But goodbye, Mr. Black Snake."
Without any hesitation, Steven pulled a bottle of milk from his inventory and chugged it down in one go.
A wave of refreshing clarity surged through his mind.
Before the voice could react, it was instantly erased.
Steven let out a deep breath, scratching his head in exhaustion.
Well, that was annoying.
On the bright side, thanks to that overly talkative snake, he wasn’t feeling so conflicted anymore.
Whether he chose to help Talulah or not—
It was all about one thing.
His mood.
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Chapter 110: Chapter 110: Are You Sure You’re Not Talking About Yourself?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
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Chapter 110: Are You Sure You’re Not Talking About Yourself?
Steven hadn't even made it back to the village when he spotted a white-haired, antlered girl standing at the entrance—frozen in place, like a statue waiting for her loved one to return.
Judging by the hopeful yet disappointed look on her face, it was clear that s he had been expecting to see more than just him coming back.
"It's not that I didn’t want to bring her back. She said she had things to do. If you want to hear about it, I don’t mind telling you. After all, I doubt she wants to keep it a secret from you anymore."
Steven quickened his pace toward Alina.
She had just recovered from a serious illness, and her body was still weak.
Yet here she was, waiting at the village entrance for who knows how long.
Even just holding her arm for support, Steven could feel the cold radiating from her.
Without another word, he helped her back inside and started a fire, boiling water like he had done a hundred times before.
As the flames flickered to life, warmth finally began to seep into the chilly room.
Alina simply smiled softly, watching him move around.
She didn’t resist as he gently pushed her back onto the bed.
"So, what exactly is Talulah hiding from us?"
"You saw her?"
Watching Steven busy himself on her behalf, Alina’s smile deepened.
It was a rare feeling, having someone take care of her like this.
Aside from Talulah, only Steven had ever made her feel this way.
"If I told you she’s planning to make a big scene, that she wants to rebel against Ursus, would you believe me?"
Steven poured two cups of hot water.
Handing one to Alina, he casually glanced around her home.
This place was practically falling apart.
Cold air leaked in through every crack.
‘I should fix this place up for her.’
‘No way a frail girl like her could survive in such a freezing home.’
Once that thought settled into his mind, it was hard to ignore.
Even as he spoke of something that would get him arrested on the spot if an Ursus official overheard, his attention was already drifting to how he should remodel Alina’s house.
Rebellion.
No matter which country you were in, it was always a dangerous word.
Yet, Alina only hesitated for a moment before nodding her little head.
"I believe you."
"And I believe Talulah."
"If it’s her, then this is exactly the kind of decision she would make."
She recalled the things Talulah had once told her.
Her dreams of changing Ursus—
Her determination to fight for the Infected—
Her unyielding ideals.
Alina never doubted that Talulah was someone who followed through on her words.
And more than that, she had the strength to make it happen.
Steven sighed, pulling up her thin, shabby blanket.
But realizing it wouldn’t do much to keep her warm, he simply tossed it aside.
Instead, he pulled out a thick wool blanket from his inventory.
With a few quick shakes, he draped it over her.
The moment it wrapped around her, Alina sank into its warmth, looking like a tiny, fluffy ball buried in soft wool.
She blinked in surprise, gently running her fingers over the plush fabric.
This kind of softness and warmth is something that she had only ever felt on Talulah’s high-end dresses.
‘Where do you even get these things...?’
She wondered to herself, watching Steven in quiet amazement.
But she wouldn’t ask Steven about these things.
Since he didn’t want to say, she wouldn’t press him.
“You and I both know that even if we tried to convince her, she wouldn’t give up."
"That’s just the kind of person she is."
"As for getting caught up in it… Well, that’s what being friends is about, isn’t it?"
"A true friend should stand by her side when she’s fighting for her ideals.”
Alina pressed her small face against the soft, pure-white wool.
Steven had brought so much wool that it’s enough to make two or three blankets.
Later, she could send one to the two elderly and one for Talulah.
“You’re spoiling her, you know that?”
“Forget it, though. Not like I have any right to criticize.”
Steven sighed.
Alina was clearly indulging Talulah, letting her do whatever she wanted.
But what could he say?
That’s just how Alina was.
And, well… He liked that kind of soft-hearted girl.
“Anyway, I’ve done everything you asked me to."
"She should come back once she’s done with her business."
"So, when are you finally going to tell me where the nearest mine is?”
Steven stared at Alina’s still pale face—
Clearly, she had lost some blood from waiting outside too long.
After thinking for a moment, he reached into his inventory and pulled out an apple and a small knife and began to peel it.
He didn’t know why movies always showed people peeling apples when taking care of the sick, but somehow, it just felt like the thing to do.
"If you want, I can take you there right now."
Alina tilted her head slightly before continuing,
"But if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear why you want to go."
"Because that place… isn’t somewhere you should be."
Hearing Steven mention the mines, Alina’s brows furrowed.
For a moment, an indescribable emotion flashed across her normally gentle face, but it was quickly replaced by concern for him.
Unlike Talulah’s plans which she barely understood, she knew all too well what the mines were like.
After all, her parents had been sent to the mines.
And that was how they got infected with Oripathy.
She herself had suffered the same fate because of it.
If she had to describe what kind of place the mines were, then there was only one phrase that fit:
"A living hell."
For every Ursus citizen, the mines were a place to stay far, far away from.
Because once you entered, there was an overwhelming chance you’d come out as a despised Infected.
“Why else would I go to a mine?”
“To mine, of course.”
Steven handed the peeled apple to the girl.
Then, without wasting anything, he started chewing on the apple peels he had carefully collected.
He hadn’t forgotten why he came to Ursus in the first place.
The most important thing was getting his hands on some free, wild Originium ore.
"You?"
"Mining?"
"Do you even know what you’re saying?"
Alina’s brows knitted even tighter.
It was the first time she had ever heard someone voluntarily want to go to that hellhole.
And by the look on Steven’s face, he wasn’t joking.
That was an Ursus mine.
Once you went in, you almost never came back out.
Even Ursus’ regular citizens avoided it like the plague.
And the ones who oversaw the mines were some of the worst kind of people.
Because no one in their right mind would willingly spend their days around a bunch of Infected prisoners who could explode at any time.
Yet, Steven just shrugged nonchalantly.
“Yeah."
"There’s a mine."
"So I’m going to mine."
"It’s really that simple."
“What’s the problem?”
Steven scratched his head, puzzled by Alina’s strong reaction.
To him, mining was the safest thing in the world.
Just dig all the way down to level 11, then start a fishbone branch mine.
As long as you didn’t break into a natural cave, there was basically zero danger.
“But that’s an Ursus government-controlled mine."
"Without permission from the local authorities, individuals aren’t allowed to mine there.”
Alina looked at Steven helplessly.
This boy’s every decision was unexpected.
No wonder Talulah was always wondering what on earth was going through his head
"Sigh~~"
"Who really owns anything on this land?"
"Isn’t it just 'whoever digs it up, owns it'?"
Steven scratched his head.
It was buried underground, so who cared?
If those officials were really so capable, they should’ve dug it up themselves.
Then he’d acknowledge that it belonged to them.
After hearing his logic, Alina stopped arguing.
She simply gave him the directions to the mine.
Then, she started getting up, intending to go with him.
Not because she thought he’d get lost, but because she was worried about what might happen.
Sure, Steven’s strength seemed far beyond what the mine’s guards could handle, but she still couldn’t feel at ease.
Unfortunately, the moment she lifted the blanket, Steven pushed her back down with one hand.
“You’re not going."
"It’s not some fun adventure."
"Instead of worrying about that, answer a question for me."
"It’s about Talulah.”
Steven’s tone was unusually serious.
For once, he wasn’t joking around.
Alina, sensing the shift, stopped trying to get up.
Instead, she met his gaze, listening intently.
“That girl…"
"Does she ever talk to herself?"
"Like, as if she’s talking to someone else?"
A sudden thought had hit him, that maybe the "Status Ailment" he got was something he caught from Talulah.
So he figured why not ask Alina, who knew Talulah better than anyone?
At the same time, Steven carefully examined the girl in front of him.
After confirming that her name display didn’t have any strange suffixes, he was fairly certain she hadn’t been infected by that "Black Snake" thing.
So this thing was picky about who it latched onto?
Weird.
Steven stroked his chin, but then, he noticed that Alina was looking at him with an indescribable expression.
It was the kind of look that said—
"Are you even hearing yourself right now?"
And then she asked—
"Are you sure… you’re not talking about yourself?"
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Chapter 111: Chapter 111: I'm Here, Mine Shaft
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
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Chapter 111: I'm Here, Mine Shaft
He couldn’t get any useful information out of Alina.
Even though Alina was the person who had spent the most time with Talulah, she still had no idea what kind of life Talulah had experienced before.
The only thing she knew was that Talulah had been taken in by those two elderly individuals and that, when she first appeared, she was injured—seemingly showing signs of having been in a fight.
As for anything else, like showing signs of a second personality or talking to herself, Alina had never seen such behavior.
If anything, Steven himself, with his occasional bouts of insanity, exhibited such traits more often.
Talulah, while stubborn, had never shown such behavior.
This left Steven somewhat puzzled.
In the end, he could only attribute it to the possibility that the so-called "Black Snake Consciousness" inside her had not yet awakened.
He also didn’t mention anything about the Black Snake in Talulah to Alina.
As far as he was concerned, if that thing was just some kind of Status Ailment, he wouldn’t even bother looking at it.
After all, one bucket of milk would probably be enough to cleanse it completely.
Whether or not that would have any effect on Talulah’s memories was not something Steven cared about.
But that was a matter for when Talulah returned.
Right now, Steven had something else to do—heading to his "zero-cost shopping" site.
Compared to the road leading to the mobile city, the path to the mine was far more difficult to traverse.
Steven twisted and turned through the snowy plains for what felt like half a day.
No wonder Alina wanted him to bring her along—this route was easy to get lost in.
If it weren’t for his minimap, he might have actually lost his way.
And Steven was well aware that the reason this path was so difficult wasn’t because the villagers deliberately wanted to make his life harder.
It seemed more like they didn’t want the people from the mine to be able to find them.
The reason for this was fairly easy to guess.
According to Alina, the death rate in the mine was consistently high.
If people kept dying, where would they find new miners?
That was something worth thinking about.
Furthermore, why was that village only filled with the elderly, weak, and sickly? Where had all the strong men gone?
That, too, was an interesting question.
Steven figured that if he really wanted to find the answers, he would have to enter the mine himself.
Since he had left in a hurry, Steven hadn’t even changed his clothes.
He simply put away his straw hat and [Yamato].
After all, he was just here to mine—what was the point of dressing so mysteriously?
Before long, following the route he had mapped out, Steven arrived at the location Alina had mentioned.
Fortunately, judging by the black smoke rising from behind the barbed-wire fence, the mine didn’t seem to be abandoned.
Walking at a leisurely pace, Steven reached the mine’s entrance, where the first thing he saw was a group of well-equipped guards.
Their gear appeared even more advanced than what he had seen in the mobile city.
Clearly, in the eyes of those in power in Ursus, the economy and energy were far more important than the so-called citizens.
However, this time, Steven had no intention of sneaking in.
With so many people around, his outfit clearly didn’t make him look like a miner.
As for getting into a conflict with the mine’s guards, he had even less interest in that.
He had no deep-seated grudges against them, and he was only here to mine.
Fighting them would be quite rude, wouldn’t it?
So, after thinking for two minutes, Steven decisively made a decision.
Since he wanted to mine and the other side clearly needed laborers, why make things so complicated? Wasn’t this a perfect exchange of needs?
Without hesitation, Steven stopped concealing himself and confidently strode toward the heavily guarded entrance of the mine.
“Stop! Who goes there?”
The guards on duty immediately spotted Steven and shouted to stop him, quickly calling for reinforcements.
“Captain, don’t shoot! It’s me!”
Steven’s response was completely out of context, leaving the guards momentarily baffled.
However, after quickly subduing him and pressing their weapons to his neck, they realized that he didn’t seem like someone trying to invade the mine.
Rather, he looked more like a regular person with some mental issues.
After all, they could tell at a glance that he showed no signs of Oripathy infection, and after searching him, they didn’t find any weapons or anything remotely threatening.
Simply put, he was no different from the villagers they usually captured from nearby settlements. The only difference was that this guy seemed unusually cheerful.
“What are you here for?”
Initially suspecting he might be affiliated with the Guerrilla Fighters, the guards lowered their vigilance after ruling out the possibility of him being infected.
He’s just an unarmed Liberi, without even a trace of Originium Arts—wasn’t he just a piece of clay in their hands?
“Reporting, sir! I’m here to mine. My family is too poor—we can’t even afford food anymore. At least if I work here, I can still get something to eat.”
Steven casually made up a reason, assuming these guys wouldn’t overthink it.
Judging by the contempt in their eyes, it was clear they didn’t take him seriously at all.
Which was great.
He was indeed just here to get a job, so there was no reason for them to reject him, right?
What Steven didn’t expect, however, was that his words ended up being very convincing to the guards.
After all, what he said was entirely in line with the current situation in the surrounding villages.
In the harsh winter, countless desperate villagers, with no other options, sold themselves to the mine in exchange for a single meal.
Sure, this meant they were very likely to contract Oripathy, but at least they wouldn’t starve to death immediately.
Given the choice between dying eventually and dying right now, most people would choose the former.
“You think it’s that easy, kid? No work, no food. Whether you get to eat depends on how much you can work, understand?”
The lead guard patted Steven on the shoulder.
This kid wasn’t exactly a burly, muscular man, but at least he felt solid enough when touched.
That was good enough.
After all, this kid wasn’t wrong—this mine always needed more workers.
Without bothering to ask him many questions or even register him, the guards simply confirmed once again that he wasn’t carrying anything dangerous.
Then, they directly escorted him into the mine.
After passing through an area heavily guarded by soldiers, the guard leading Steven soon brought him to a dimly lit mine tunnel.
Casually grabbing a pickaxe from a pile of tools, the guard shoved it into Steven’s hands and pointed toward the tunnel, where the sound of mining echoed.
“That’s your workplace. The older workers inside will tell you what to do. Just follow them for meals and rest. Now, get down there.”
The guard, not bothering to hide his disdain for the mine and miners like Steven, shouted at him harshly.
"Why are you yelling so loud? It’s not like I’m refusing to go."
Steven muttered as he obediently walked down into the mine.
So this was how newcomers were treated? Did miners in this world really have no rights at all?
Muttering under his breath, he didn’t hesitate and continued deeper into the tunnel.
The guard simply memorized the number of this mine shaft before returning to his post.
All he needed to do now was update the roster to reflect one more worker.
Whether Steven actually worked properly or not wasn’t his concern.
If a mine shaft didn’t meet its quota, everyone in it would go hungry.
If the kid didn’t behave, there were plenty of others who would make sure he did.
As Steven walked further inside, he took in his surroundings.
The tunnel was about two meters high, and he advanced cautiously.
The pickaxe in his hand looked like it had been through countless battles.
Steven felt like he could break it with just a little too much force.
Dim oil lamps cast an orange glow throughout the tunnel.
Though warm in color, the light felt cold and lifeless in this environment.
Fortunately, after just a few steps, he spotted a hunched-over middle-aged man digging at an exposed ore vein.
"You are new here?"
The man stopped his work the moment he saw Steven and the pickaxe in his hand.
After a brief pause, he motioned for Steven to come over.
"Follow me."
Steven scratched his head.
If it was about mining, he was practically a veteran with centuries of experience.
Did he really need someone to teach him?
But since this guy was an experienced worker, Steven was still willing to listen.
Maybe there was something useful to learn.
After all, he was already inside—there was no way he wouldn’t get the chance to mine.
As they walked deeper into the tunnel, the middle-aged man began explaining things to Steven.
"Now that you’re in, work hard. Don’t think about slacking off. If the mine’s output doesn’t meet the quota, none of us get to eat. You’ll learn that lesson soon enough."
"You’ll have to haul the mined ore and rocks out yourself. Keep an eye on the oil lamps—if they start to go out, it means you need to head back and get more fuel."
"And most importantly, if you want to stay alive, don’t dig too deep. If you hit Originium, be extra careful not to get cut. Don’t say I didn’t warn you."
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Chapter 112: Chapter 112: What Kind of Grinding Maniac Is This?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
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Chapter 112: What Kind of Grinding Maniac Is This?
After leading Steven to a mining vein with no other workers, the middle-aged man turned and left, returning to his work.
From start to finish, he behaved like a soulless machine, merely repeating the rules as if reading from a script.
There was no hint of hope or ambition in his voice or eyes—just a lifeless husk going through the motions.
As for the things he warned Steven about, the Minecrafter didn’t listen to a single word of it.
He had expected something important, but all the man said was don’t dig too deep?
Did they think he was like them?
What kind of Minecrafter doesn’t dig deep?
Steven had no idea if this world had bedrock, lava, or the kind of ores he was familiar with—diamonds, emeralds, and the like—but now that he was here in this massive mine, he could dig however he pleased.
After scanning the surroundings and confirming that the other workers were stationed far away, Steven casually tossed aside the rusty iron pickaxe in his hand.
"What kind of garbage tool is this? Even an ocelot would turn its nose up at it."
Reaching into his Transmutation Table, he pulled out a diamond pickaxe with Efficiency V.
Now this was more like it.
That shimmering blue glow—iconic and familiar.
Sure, Netherite Tools were objectively better, but Steven never liked their color.
Diamond was the true classic.
Testing it out, he carved a two-meter-high square section out of the rock in front of him.
The results were immediate—his pickaxe worked perfectly in this world.
And more importantly, the mined blocks were directly stored in his inventory.
This made his mining far more efficient than the others—no need to haul debris outside.
Switching into grinding mode, Steven held a torch in his left hand while his right swung the pickaxe at high speed.
In mere seconds, his mining area transformed into a deep, pitch-black tunnel.
Then, just as quickly, he poked his head out, checked his surroundings, and—seeing no one nearby—pulled out two dirt blocks to seal off the entrance.
"Almost forgot to close this off. A perfectly square tunnel like this would definitely raise suspicion."
He didn’t want anyone disturbing his mining, so for safety’s sake, sealing it up was the best option.
With that, silence returned to the mine.
No one knew that deep underground, a relentless mining machine had been unleashed.
<+>
In less than half an hour, Steven’s inventory was already filled to the brim with raw ores.
And that was after he had compressed dirt and stone into EMC inside his Transmutation Table.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have even needed thirty minutes.
A Minecrafter miner never had to worry about cave-ins or oxygen shortages—as long as he had a pickaxe, the whole world was a mine.
But Steven wasn’t done.
As if he wanted to tempt fate, he set up several furnaces right there in his completely sealed-off tunnel and began smelting ores.
If it were anyone else, they’d probably pass out within minutes from lack of oxygen.
But Steven?
He just casually watched as his raw ores were gradually refined into various metal ingots.
One thing puzzled him, though.
Despite the Transmutation Table allowing him to convert stone and dirt into EMC, and metal ingots into exchange points, it refused to accept raw ores directly.
They had to be smelted first.
Annoying, but on the bright side, it added to the mining experience.
After all, smelting ores was an essential part of every Minecrafter’s mining routine.
It had to be done.
If there was one downside to all this, it was that this mining vein didn’t have much Originium ore.
Instead, it was filled with common materials—lead, copper, iron, and coal.
Even the few Originium ores he did find, once refined, only gave him tiny Originium Shard—barely half the size of the ones he got from Closure.
"Half an hour of mining, and I only got a few dozen pieces? The spawn rate is basically the same as vanilla Minecraft diamonds... and it doesn’t even benefit from Fortune."
Steven sighed.
"If only I had some kind of ore distribution chart, like how diamonds always spawn around Y-level 11-12."
Steven muttered in disappointment.
Truthfully, this mining speed was still within his acceptable range—if he could gather this much in half an hour, that meant he could easily mine a few hundred by the end of the day.
But humans were greedy creatures. They never settled for what they had—they always wanted more.
Steven decided he would dig even deeper later.
After all, that man had mentioned that the deeper you go, the more dangerous it gets.
But wasn’t greater danger also a sign of greater rewards?
After making sure the furnaces were running smoothly, Steven unsealed the entrance, casually whistling as he placed a chunk of iron ore onto a nearby minecart. Then, he sealed off his private tunnel again.
He couldn’t stay hidden the whole time, that would be too suspicious.
He had to at least pretend to be working.
After all, he planned to mine here for several days, and the last thing he wanted was anyone disturbing him.
Pushing the minecart to the deposit station, Steven finally saw the other miners working in the same mine.
He was puzzled.
Why were they all gathered here at this time?
As he got closer, he realized why.
It was mealtime.
And in their hands—Steven instantly recognized it.
Black, coal-like "bread."
He let out a sigh.
"Figures. No one even bothered to call me over."
Newcomers really had zero status in this place.
Not that it mattered.
Steven wasn’t remotely interested in this thing that barely even qualified as food.
So after pushing his cart to the deposit area, he turned to leave.
But a deep voice called out to him.
“Hey, new guy! You’re not eating? If you don’t fill your stomach, you won’t have the strength to work.”
Steven turned around.
Among the group of miners, one man stood up and waved him over.
Unlike the others, his eyes still held a faint glimmer of hope.
Steven hesitated.
Since someone had invited him, it felt rude to ignore the gesture entirely.
So instead of leaving, he walked over and took a closer look at the man.
Just like the others, the man was dressed in tattered rough-spun clothing, his body hunched from years of mining.
But compared to that first man Steven met, this one was different.
His eyes still had life in them.
"Don't be stubborn, newbie. Everyone’s like this at first. This stuff may taste awful, but at least it keeps you going. If you don’t eat, you might slip up later—and then you risk infection."
The man tore off a piece of the blackened bread and offered it to Steven.
Steven shook his head.
“I appreciate the thought, really. But I’m not hungry right now. Food’s hard to come by here—you should save it for yourself.”
Not wanting to owe anyone favors, Steven turned around and resumed pushing his minecart back to the tunnels.
As far as he was concerned, he just needed to clock in and show he was working.
Nothing else mattered.
Why eat that garbage when he had steak and potatoes?
He’d have to be insane.
<+>
"Forget it. Newbies are always like this."
"Yeah. Just let him starve for a meal—he’ll learn."
Some of the other miners shook their heads, no longer bothering with Steven.
But then, one of them pointed at Steven’s minecart, trying to stir up a little entertainment in this dark, monotonous cave.
“How much do you think the newbie mined?”
“Looking at his cart? Eh, probably not even a few dozen kilos.”
It made sense.
A newcomer couldn’t possibly have dug much in such a short time.
Even veteran miners could only manage half a ton of ore in an entire day.
And after smelting, that barely amounted to anything.
That was why the mine needed so many workers grinding day and night.
But then—
One of the miners walked over to check Steven’s deposit.
And immediately froze in place.
“What’s wrong?”
Another miner shouted over.
"Don't tell me he didn't mine anything? Was he just pretending to work?"
"If that's the case, he’s not getting any food later."
But the first miner didn’t answer.
Instead, his face was twisted in sheer disbelief.
“What’s wrong?!”
The miner turned back, his voice trembling.
"That bastard mined a full ton in half an hour."
"What the fuck?! What kind of grinding maniac is this?!"
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Chapter 113: Chapter 113: It's Just a Little Originium Radiation
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
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Chapter 113: It's Just a Little Originium Radiation
Steven had no idea that simply taking out a block of raw ore would make the others label him as an overachiever.
After all, he could mine this stuff casually with little effort, so he naturally didn't think much of it.
What he really cared about at the moment was determining which chunk and coordinates had concentrated Originium veins. Without knowing the Y-axis position, even the most efficient branch mining technique would feel a bit off.
"Do I really have to enable an ore tracker? That would be kind of cheating, wouldn’t it?"
Of course, Steven had mods for that, but he avoided using ore trackers, x-ray mods, and similar cheats because, to him, they weren't much different from outright hacking.
Besides, plenty of mods had features that achieved the same effect in a more balanced way. Sure, they might require some energy or resources, but that just made it more engaging, right?
For example, the Botania mod had the "Orechid," and the Thaumcraft mod had similar magical tools for locating ores. These sorts of pay-to-cheat mechanics were much easier for Steven to accept.
Unfortunately, he didn't have enough WAP (World Acknowledgement Point) to activate large-scale mods like these. If he wanted to rely on what he currently had, it definitely wouldn’t be enough.
With a helpless sigh, Steven continued digging deeper into the ore vein. At the very least, the experienced miners had said that the good stuff was buried further down, so he had to verify that claim himself.
The deeper he dug, the tougher the surrounding stone became. Even with an Efficiency V pickaxe, Steven started to feel a slight strain while mining.
It was no wonder that the veteran miners had warned against digging too deep. Given how hard the rock was in this area, they simply lacked the ability to mine it efficiently.
That said, Steven only felt a slight difficulty—it wasn't really a major challenge for him. However, one thing the miners had been absolutely right about was that the deeper layers of this Originium vein had a much higher concentration of ore compared to the surface.
He turned back to glance at the straight tunnel he'd carved out, stretching like a path into the abyss. Since monsters didn’t spawn in dark areas in this world, he hadn’t even bothered placing torches along the way. The only light source was the torch he held in his hand.
The further down he went, the stronger the strange feeling of oppression became. It wasn’t the result of oxygen deprivation or the sheer depth of the tunnel—it felt more like something was lurking beneath this ore vein.
"Well, now this is getting interesting. The deeper I go, the more Originium I find, but this sensation… it’s definitely odd."
At some point—Steven wasn’t sure how deep he had gone—something unexpected happened. Even though he hadn’t touched any exposed Originium ore, a new status effect suddenly appeared in his status bar: Oripathy.
Moreover, as he stood still, he could feel the infection growing stronger, little by little.
If he had to describe it, it felt remarkably similar to radiation exposure.
"Is the Originium energy so dense here that it causes this effect? Or… is there something like active Originium deeper below?"
Steven rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He knew that only active Originium could produce this kind of radiation-like effect. But this ore vein had clearly existed for a long time—how could the deeper layers still retain their activity?
To be honest, he was more than a little curious.
But considering how deep he had already dug, he decided it would be best to return to the surface and empty his inventory first. Then, he could think about whether to continue further.
Besides, he could take the opportunity to consult the veteran miners—maybe they knew something about how this Originium vein had formed.
Having made up his mind, Steven placed a waypoint marker at his current position. Then, as he drank a bucket of milk to clear the infection, he turned around and began heading back toward the surface.
To be fair, the depths of this mine were practically a forbidden zone. With radiation this intense, it was no wonder ordinary miners couldn’t handle it.
Ordinary people would probably get infected within seconds, and for those already infected, judging by the rate of catalysis, it wouldn’t take long before the Originium inside them fully activated.
But that didn’t matter—Steven was not an ordinary person. What was an unbearable level of Originium radiation for most Terrans was nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him. At worst, it was just a one-bucket-of-milk problem.
Even if the Originium inside him were to fully activate, Steven doubted it would be enough to kill him.
Tch, just a little Oripathy. No big deal.
Back at his furnace station, Steven dumped all the ore from his backpack into the furnace. Then, he unsealed the mining tunnel, casually grabbed a block of copper ore, and tossed it into his little pushcart—just for appearances.
Whistling leisurely, he headed toward the miners’ gathering spot.
Time had no real meaning underground—there was no sun, and Steven never kept track while mining. He wasn’t sure how long had passed, but logically, if he waited at the ore delivery station, he’d eventually see others dropping off their hauls.
Sure enough, when he arrived at the delivery point, pushing his fully loaded cart of raw ore, he spotted several miners taking a break. Among them was the same guy who had kindly suggested he go eat earlier.
But the way they were staring at him made Steven pause.
‘What’s with these guys? Why are they looking at me like I’m some kind of monster?’
Before he could even push his cart all the way in, a few miners hurried over and helped him push it.
“Uh… what’s up with you guys? Why so enthusiastic all of a sudden?”
Steven scratched his head, completely clueless as to why they were acting this way.
“Holy crap, where the hell did you dig up all this ore? How did you do this?”
One of the miners gawked at Steven’s cart, which was once again filled to the brim with raw ore. Their minds were blown.
Sure, it wasn’t as absurd as his half-a-ton-in-thirty-minutes stunt from earlier, but this was still just half a day's work—how had he managed to haul another full load already?
And the strangest part? No one had seen him dumping out any waste rock. Where was all this ore coming from?
Steven coughed lightly. “Ahem. If you put in enough effort, there’s nothing you can’t accomplish, right? I’m new here, so of course, I’m stronger and have more energy than you guys. It makes sense that I can mine a bit more, doesn’t it?”
He shrugged, pretending like this was just normal.
Honestly, he had no idea how much ore an average miner dug up per day—he just assumed they could mine a few tons. But judging by their reactions, clearly, he had been mistaken.
“…Really?”
The miners exchanged skeptical glances.
Technically, his explanation was plausible. If he happened to strike a rich vein, and considering that new workers usually had more stamina and strength, it wasn’t completely impossible for him to produce these kinds of results.
Still… they couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
But that would mean working himself to death. He was just a newcomer—was it really necessary to work this hard?
"Ah, isn't this just what I should be doing? Besides, our performance is linked together anyway, right? The more I do, the more you guys can rest. That’s a good thing!"
Steven scratched his head. Lying wasn’t his strong suit, so he could only hope they’d buy into his reasoning.
Fortunately, what he said did make some sense. The miners glanced at each other, and their expressions softened.
He was right—there was no point in competing in this mine. Their output was measured collectively, and only by working together could they secure more food. Having someone like Steven who worked so efficiently was undoubtedly a good thing for them.
"Kid, you're a good one. Come, have some water."
A middle-aged man sitting nearby waved Steven over and handed him a cup of water, its surface covered in a thin layer of limescale.
Steven took it, gave it a glance, but didn’t drink. Instead, he just smiled and sat down beside the man, taking the opportunity to rest.
The other miners also gathered around. With Steven’s cart full of ore, they could afford to relax for another ten minutes or so.
"How long have you guys been working here?"
Holding the cup, Steven looked at the group of sweat-drenched workers. He didn’t mind their smell; instead, he casually struck up a conversation like an old friend.
"No idea. Ever since we were captured and thrown into this mine, we’ve lost all sense of time. We just dig until we’re too exhausted, sleep for a bit, then wake up and start again. If you slack off even a little, you don’t get to eat. Who has the energy to keep track of time?"
An old man, likely the eldest among them, let out a weary sigh. His thin, frail frame made it clear he had been here for a long time.
"You shouldn't push yourself so hard either," another miner added. "It’s pointless. Those bastards aren’t gonna reward us for turning in extra. Down here, just staying alive is already a blessing."
Several others chimed in, offering similar words of caution.
Though Steven’s work benefited them, they couldn’t just sit by and watch a young, strong newcomer burn himself out so quickly.
"Hmm, I get it now," Steven nodded. "By the way, does anyone know how this mine was formed? I heard someone say that we shouldn’t dig too deep—why is that? Wouldn't there be even richer ore deposits further down?"
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Chapter 114: Chapter 114: A Boss Fight?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
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Chapter 114: A Boss Fight?
"You seriously don’t even know this?"
Seeing Steven’s apparent ignorance of what should be common knowledge for any Terra native, the miners frowned. Still, they took the time to explain.
"All Originium veins are formed as a result of Catastrophes. This particular one, from what we’ve heard, was created decades ago when a meteorite Catastrophe hit this region. The entire tundra was leveled, and it wasn’t until over a decade later that this Originium mine was established here."
The oldest miner among them spoke while recalling the past. But suddenly, as if remembering something important, his expression turned serious, and he gave Steven a stern warning.
"So whatever you do, don’t take any unnecessary risks! You weren’t digging in the deeper parts of the vein, were you? If you get infected with Oripathy, it won’t be worth it. We’ve lost too many good men to that damn disease already."
Thinking things through, the miners quickly pieced together the reason behind Steven’s insane productivity. If he had been digging deep into the vein, it made sense that he was able to gather so much ore. But that also meant he was exposing himself to an extreme risk of infection.
"Uh, yeah, got it, got it."
Steven nodded obediently. Whether or not he actually listened to their warning was another matter entirely. It’s not like he could tell them he had already ventured into the deep vein and already experienced Originium exposure once.
But now that he knew the history of this Originium vein, he actually had even more questions.
He had heard Kal'tsit mention Catastrophes before—phenomena unique to this world, basically high-level natural disasters, like hyper-intensified hurricanes, earthquakes, or volcanic eruptions. But the fact that every single one resulted in the emergence of Originium veins? That was suspicious as hell.
It was hard not to wonder if someone—or something—was deliberately orchestrating these events.
Steven knew all too well how twisted those so-called "creators" and "gods" could be.
But for now, this wasn’t something he could afford to concern himself with. At the very least, knowing the mine’s origins helped him make an educated guess about what might be lurking in the depths of the vein.
Most likely, whatever was down there was something that had crashed alongside the meteorite decades ago—either a highly active chunk of Originium or something else entirely. As long as it meant more Originium for him, he wasn’t too worried.
Steven stopped overthinking it and just kept nodding absentmindedly while listening to the miners’ well-intentioned warnings.
From their conversations, he learned that most of them had been forcibly taken from nearby villages and forced into labor here. Unlike Steven, who had voluntarily entered the mine, these people wanted out more than anything. They had no choice. For them, this place was hell on earth.
Just then, the middle-aged man Steven had first met—the one who had earlier offered him water—appeared, pushing his own cart of ore. When he noticed the gathered miners, he immediately joined them.
"Everyone, get ready. Call back the others still down in the mine if you can. Something big might be about to happen."
The man’s normally calm face was now filled with anticipation. As soon as he approached, he started rallying the other miners to gather together.
"What’s going on? If we stop working, the guards are gonna check our output later. If we don’t meet the quota, we’ll go days without food!"
The miners exchanged confused looks, unsure why he was suddenly urging them to prepare for… something.
What kind of "big event" could possibly involve them?
"The guerrillas might be coming," the man said, lowering his voice slightly. "Word from the other mines is that they sent a warning—told us to get ready. If they attack the guards, there’s a good chance the tunnels might collapse."
His face was filled with excitement—not just anticipation, but outright hope.
After all, if the guerrillas were launching an attack, that meant there was a chance—a chance to escape this nightmarish mine.
There was no way he could stay calm.
"Are you serious?"
As soon as the man spoke, the other miners were instantly excited. This was huge news.
Anyone who had lived on the tundra knew about the Guerrilla Fighters. To the Ursus government, they were nothing more than bandits, but for those who suffered under oppression, they were nothing short of saviors.
If the guerrillas really were attacking the mine, it meant that their days of suffering were finally numbered.
The atmosphere shifted immediately. The miners were no longer in the mood to continue working.
Whether or not the middle-aged man’s information was true, they wanted to believe in it. Because hope—even the slightest sliver of it—was something they had been starved of for far too long.
"Why would I lie to you?" The man let out a bitter chuckle. "And even if I wanted to, what would be the point? Look at us—we’re nothing more than tools to the mine, treated worse than stray dogs. There’s nothing to gain from tricking each other."
He wasn’t wrong.
They were prisoners in all but name, their only purpose being to extract ore until their bodies inevitably gave out.
The only people who saw them as humans—as people—were the Guerrilla Fighters. The fact that they had risked exposure just to pass this warning along was proof of that.
"You’re right. We should start gathering the others."
The rest of the miners quickly came to the same conclusion. Without hesitation, they dispersed to inform the others still working deeper in the tunnels.
No one noticed that Steven was the only one who remained completely unaffected by the news.
As if he hadn’t even heard them, he simply turned around and walked back to his usual workspace.
The guerrillas? He was curious about them, sure. But if they were only going to fight the mine’s guards, then it really didn’t concern him.
He wasn’t here to rebel. He wasn’t here to take sides.
He was here to mine.
Whether the mine was controlled by the Ursus government or the Guerrilla Fighters didn’t matter to him.
As long as they didn’t stop him from digging, they were equally irrelevant.
That said…
If this really was a chance for the miners to escape, then good for them. He had no reason to interfere.
Besides, he had already seen it himself—on his minimap, a group of people was rapidly approaching the mine. As they drew nearer, the entire mine was slowly being covered in a layer of white.
"Go ahead and fight. Even if the tunnels collapse, it’s got nothing to do with me."
Steven muttered to himself as he returned to his secret tunnel.
After a quick inventory check, he stashed his refined ores into his transmutation table and resumed his descent into the deeper parts of the vein.
Now that he knew how this mine was formed, his curiosity had only grown.
What exactly was buried in the deepest part of this vein?
Radiation from Originium was a minor inconvenience to him, so why not find out?
This time, he didn’t bother detouring for other ores.
He dug straight down.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the spot where he had last stopped. He placed a torch as a marker and then continued, carving out a staircase-like path downward.
The deeper he went, the more intense the Originium energy became.
By the time he reached the next layer, it had become so dense that it felt almost physical, as if the energy was trying to bore holes through his skin.
The sheer concentration of Originium was so high that even his arms were starting to show visible signs of contamination—black, crystal-like formations creeping up his skin.
"This radiation level is way higher than I expected…"
Not only that, but nearly every mineral in this area had been converted into Originium ore.
Mining had become significantly more difficult.
But that only meant he was close.
He had to be nearing the core of this Originium vein.
Then, after breaking through a cluster of highly active Originium ore—so reactive that it resembled the crystallization found in late-stage Oripathy patients—
—he suddenly found himself staring into a vast, empty chamber.
The end of the vein was… hollow?
Steven frowned.
And then, a split second later—
—a massive purple health bar appeared at the top of his screen, just like when he approached the Ender Dragon.
【Fallingstar Beast】
"...Are you kidding me? There’s a boss down here?"
<+>
Tn: The Fallingstar Beast is a boss mob from the popular game, Elden Ring, go check it out if you are curious how the beast looks like^^
https://eldenring.fandom.com/wiki/Fallingstar_Beast
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon.
Latest Chapter in Patreon: Chapter 256: Birds of a Feather Flock Together
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Chapter 115: Chapter 115: The Battle Above Ground
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 115: The Battle Above Ground
Just before Steven descended into the mines for the third time, preparing for his next adventure, things on the surface of the mine were already becoming chaotic.
The guards were the first to detect something unusual outside the perimeter.
Mines like these were a crucial economic resource for Ursus. While the guards might not have been the most honorable individuals, their combat skills were undeniable—they were all elite soldiers.
As soon as they noticed the disturbance, they wasted no time. While fortifying their positions, they immediately sent out a request for reinforcements from the nearest mobile city garrison.
However, the ones lurking outside the mine weren’t about to give them that chance.
The moment the enemy sensed the guards preparing for battle, they struck without hesitation.
The forests surrounding the mine stirred.
The already freezing temperatures seemed to plummet even further, the biting cold now seeping into every exposed bit of flesh. It was as if the very oxygen in the air had frozen, making each breath feel like a struggle.
“It’s the Yeti Squadron!”
The guard captain shouted in alarm.
Never, in all his years of service, did he expect that the mine under his watch would come under attack from the Guerrilla Fighters.
And of all the enemies they could’ve faced—it had to be them.
The worst ones.
His expression darkened.
He knew what kind of people the Yeti Squadron was.
He also knew that they, the guards—who took pleasure in oppressing the miners—would never be forgiven.
To the infected and the oppressed, the Guerrilla Fighters were heroes.
But to the guards?
They were demons.
"Hold your ground!" The captain barked out the order, though even he was struggling to keep his composure. "The garrison from the nearest town will be here soon. We just have to hold the line until reinforcements arrive!"
His mind raced, desperately searching for a way to counter the incoming assault.
Then, suddenly, an idea struck him.
He whipped around to face his second-in-command.
"Go. Bring up those miners from the tunnels and use them as hostages. The Guerrilla Fighters came here to rescue them, didn’t they?" A twisted smirk formed on his lips. "If we use them as meat shields, even the Yeti Squadron will have to think twice before acting."
His chilling words made it clear—he didn’t see the miners as people, but as disposable bargaining chips.
The miners were worthless in his eyes.
The only reason they were even given food was because they could still extract ore. Otherwise, the guards wouldn’t have bothered feeding them at all.
But now?
They could serve one last purpose.
They just needed to buy enough time for reinforcements to arrive.
As the captain glared at the approaching guerrillas—who used the trees and snow for cover—his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth nearly cracked.
They couldn’t stop the Guerrilla Fighters directly.
But those defenseless miners?
Those, they could handle.
With no effort at all, they dragged dozens of miners up to the fortified walls.
One of the guards grabbed a particularly frail miner—a man so thin he barely had any strength to resist.
Ignoring his desperate screams, the guard lifted him by the throat and—without a shred of hesitation—hurled him over the wall.
The miner slammed into the frozen ground with a sickening crack.
A spray of crimson stained the snow.
And then, he stopped moving.
He didn’t even struggle.
The captain had no intention of negotiating.
His actions spoke for themselves.
If the Guerrilla Fighters took one more step forward—
—he would throw down another.
They wanted to save these people?
Then let’s see how many they could actually rescue.
The effect of the captain’s brutal display was immediate.
Rather than dissipating, the biting chill in the air only intensified—piercing through flesh and bone like an unforgiving blade. Even with their thick armor, the guards could feel their bodies stiffening, as if the cold itself was trying to freeze them solid.
Then, from the treeline in front of the mine, movement stirred the snow-covered landscape.
A bone-chilling frost seemed to seep into the very fabric of reality, as if the air itself was turning to ice.
And then, she appeared.
A white-haired, rabbit-eared girl emerged from the trees, stepping forward with slow, deliberate grace. She wore a primarily white coat accented with streaks of orange-red, and in her hand, she held a small dagger.
Her delicate features were as cold and unyielding as a slab of ice. She might have looked like an ordinary girl, but the sheer pressure radiating from her presence was suffocating.
She wasn’t just anyone.
And the guards felt it.
"Release them. And I’ll make your deaths quick."
Her voice rang out—calm, chilling, and absolute.
At that moment, the guards on the wall felt the very air around them constrict.
The frost wasn’t just a trick of the mind. It was real.
Their lungs strained against the crushing cold, their every breath becoming an agonizing effort.
But fear alone was never enough to stop a desperate man.
“Like hell we will! Damn guerrilla scum!”
The captain shouted back, his voice laced with defiance—but also fear.
As if to prove his resolve, he grabbed another miner from the group, hauling the struggling man up before hurling him toward the girl below.
Or at least, that was his intention.
His hand never moved.
No matter how hard he tried to throw the miner, his arm simply refused to respond.
In fact… nothing did.
His entire body was numb.
And when he looked down, he understood why.
A layer of ice had completely engulfed his limbs—his torso—his entire being.
The other guards noticed it as well.
But before they could even react, the overwhelming cold had already stolen control of their bodies.
Like statues carved from pure ice, they stood frozen in place—unable to move, unable to scream.
The girl’s gaze swept over them, her expression unreadable.
Then, with a simple lift of her hand—
—a path of solid ice formed beneath her feet, stretching seamlessly from the ground all the way to the fortified wall.
And she was not alone.
A group of similarly dressed, white-clad figures swiftly followed her lead, ascending the ice path and storming the defenses.
The battle was over in an instant.
Compared to the frozen guards—who had been reduced to nothing more than lifeless statues—the miners, though trembling from the cold, were still very much alive.
The white-clad fighters wasted no time in evacuating them.
Though there were still a few scattered guards left, with their leadership gone and their defensive line shattered, they were swiftly dealt with.
Only after the last traces of resistance had been crushed did the suffocating cold begin to fade.
The rabbit-eared girl leaned against the wall, a faint trace of fatigue flickering across her face.
“Cough—”
A quiet, frail-sounding cough escaped her lips.
Even as she tried to steady herself, her body swayed slightly, her exhaustion evident.
“Big Sis! Are you alright? You didn’t have to push yourself this hard—we could have taken the mine without you overexerting yourself!”
One of the white-clad warriors rushed to her side, concern clear in his voice.
The others quickly followed, their expressions filled with worry.
"If we did it your way, it would’ve cost us more lives," she murmured. "I’ll be fine… Just focus on helping the miners."
Her gaze flickered downward—toward the lifeless body of the miner who had been thrown from the wall.
Her eyes darkened.
Anger and regret flashed within them.
She had underestimated the guards.
She hadn’t expected them to be so ruthless—to kill their own hostages just to prove a point.
Her frustration simmered beneath her exhaustion, her grip tightening slightly.
Then, she turned her gaze toward the frozen guards.
Her expression hardened.
And without a word—
—the ice surrounding their bodies shattered.
One by one, they crumbled—not into mere shards of ice, but into bloodstained fragments.
It was over.
Or at least, that’s what they thought.
Because just as they began to catch their breath—
—a deep, earth-shaking tremor erupted from beneath their feet.
The ground rumbled, as if something massive was stirring from within.
A pulse of originium energy surged through the air, so intense that it was visible to the naked eye.
The girl’s expression immediately shifted.
"Get the miners out of here—NOW!"
There was no hesitation.
Whatever was coming…
…it was something they weren’t prepared to face.
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon.
Latest Chapter in Patreon: Chapter 256: Birds of a Feather Flock Together
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Chapter 116: Chapter 116: Calling Yourself a Boss When You Can’t Even Throw a Punch?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 116: Calling Yourself a Boss When You Can’t Even Throw a Punch?
The cause of this entire commotion was, of course, Steven.
Or, to be more precise, the boss-level monster he had accidentally dug up from the depths of the underground mine.
After stripping the creature’s lair of every last trace of Originium ore, Steven’s curiosity got the better of him—how could any Minecrafter resist taking a closer look at a supposedly dormant “Fallingstar Beast”?
What he didn’t expect was for the thing to wake up the moment he got near.
To make matters worse, the underground space was far too cramped for a proper fight. So, Steven figured it was best to retreat first, prepare himself, and then come back to deal with it.
What he really didn’t expect was that the creature—a hulking, four-legged, bull-horned scorpion-like beast with a deep orange-yellow exoskeleton—would actually chase after him by manipulating the surrounding earth and stone.
And so, unwillingly, he dragged the monster with him to the surface.
Fortunately, Steven had checked his minimap and confirmed that the miners had already been evacuated. That meant no major casualties—at least, not yet.
By the time he clawed his way through the mine’s flooring and burst above ground, the tremors had become deafening. The entire area seemed on the verge of collapse.
But before he could fully prepare for battle, Steven noticed something unexpected.
Standing not far away was a white-haired, rabbit-eared girl, staring at the scene with a dazed expression.
"Oh, for fuck’s sake—someone’s still here?”
Scratching his head in exasperation, Steven let out a sigh. He hadn’t been checking his minimap constantly, so he had no idea someone else was still lurking in the danger zone.
Glancing down at the rapidly collapsing ground, he knew he had to act fast.
With a resigned sigh, he vanished in a blur of speed—
—And before the rabbit-eared girl even realized what had happened, she found herself being scooped into someone’s arms.
It wasn’t until she had been carried to a safer location that she finally processed what had just occurred.
Her mind, however, wasn’t focused on who the handsome young man carrying her was, nor on why he had suddenly picked her up.
Instead, her thoughts fixated on one impossible fact:
He wasn’t frozen.
Even her own father—a man who carried the very presence of an unstoppable force—had suffered frostbite the first time he made contact with her.
Yet here was this random stranger, holding her with ease, chatting away as if her freezing aura didn’t exist.
Steven, of course, had no idea what was running through the girl’s head.
Once he was certain they were a safe distance away from the collapse, he finally set her down.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have bothered to intervene at all. But since he was the one who had pulled the monster up, it wouldn’t sit right with him if some random bystander got caught in the crossfire.
At the very least, Steven didn’t like taking the blame for things that weren’t his fault.
“Alright, stay put and don’t do anything stupid.”
Then, just as he turned to leave—
“Oh, and by the way, you seriously need to watch your diet. You’re a bit on the heavy side.”
He tossed the remark over his shoulder as casually as one might comment on the weather.
Unaware, of course, that he had just stepped into a forbidden land.
The white-haired girl in Steven’s arms looked tall and slender, but surprisingly, she had some weight to her.
That said, Steven had to admit—she felt a lot better to carry than those stick-thin girls who felt like dried bean sprouts.
Shaking his head to clear away those unnecessary thoughts, Steven turned back toward the spot where he had emerged from underground.
There was still a boss waiting for him to deal with.
He didn’t know what it was, or why it was here, but a creature with a visible health bar? Not fighting it would be an insult to his gamer identity.
Reaching into his inventory, Steven pulled out his Netherite Sword.
As a sign of respect for this boss fight, he even equipped his full Netherite armor set.
And just as he was considering whether to take it a step further—maybe max out his speed, strength, and resistance buffs—the monster that had been chasing him finally revealed its full form.
The once-solid ground of the mining site collapsed inward like quicksand. The rubble and debris were instantly ground into fine dust, forming a swirling vortex that seemed to carry the monster upward.
It had two massive, razor-sharp horns sprouting from its human skull-like head.
Its entire body was a solid mass of orange-red Originium crystal, and a long, scorpion-like tail hovered menacingly behind it, blade-sharp and poised to strike.
The moment sunlight touched its body, the monster roared—a deafening, sky-splitting cry of fury.
Then, its obsidian-black compound eyes locked onto Steven.
The sheer killing intent in that gaze was so intense it felt tangible, like a spear attempting to impale him on the spot.
"Okay, okay, no need to get that mad," Steven muttered, scratching his cheek awkwardly. "I just took apart your nursery. It’s not like you were actually using it, right?"
If looks could kill, the one the monster gave him would have vaporized his soul.
A second, even more furious roar shook the air.
Its tail tip glowed orange, and in the next instant—
A searing laser blast shot toward Steven.
His reflexes kicked in.
Raising his Netherite Sword, he calmly blocked the incoming beam, stopping what should have been a devastating attack in its tracks.
But the monster wasn’t done.
Its tail twitched again, and this time—
An even stronger blast erupted from its tip, completely engulfing Steven in raw Originium energy.
The entire mining site trembled under the sheer power of the attack.
The surrounding air was soon filled with crystalizing Originium dust, forming dense clusters across the battlefield.
At the very epicenter of the explosion, Steven’s figure was nowhere to be seen.
The only thing left was a massive pillar of pure energy, still burning away at the same spot where he had been standing.
Finally, the monster seemed satisfied.
Convinced that Steven had been obliterated, it stopped its attack.
Where the young adventurer had stood was now a gaping crater, its surface covered in a thick layer of solidified Originium crystals.
And Steven?
He was nowhere in sight.
As if instinctively driven by a hatred for all living things, the monster shifted its gaze to the other survivors nearby.
Its tail glowed once more—preparing for the next round of slaughter.
But just as the monster turned around—its tail aiming directly at the nearest white-haired girl—
A sharp, shattering sound echoed through the battlefield.
Everyone watched in shock as the thick Originium crystals within the crater began to crack apart on their own.
And from beneath the fractured remains, a young man clad in eerie purple-black armor slowly crawled out, his movements a little sluggish but very much alive.
"You call yourself a boss, but you can’t even hit hard? What, did you skip breakfast or something?"
Steven coughed twice, shaking off the dust from his now misshapen Netherite Sword—which had been warped by the energy blast into something resembling a giant Originium slab.
His tone was mocking, filled with nothing but disdain for the monster before him.
In truth, he had deliberately taken the hit just to test the creature’s strength.
And sure enough, the boss bar hovering over its head wasn’t for show—this thing was definitely one of the strongest enemies he had encountered since arriving in this world.
But that was all it was.
He hadn’t even bothered using his shield, and yet the monster’s ultimate attack had barely shaved off two and a half hearts from his health bar.
He didn’t even need a potion—just a couple of deep breaths, and he’d be back to full health.
Having confirmed what he wanted, Steven lost interest in further experimentation.
Abandoning his defensive stance, his figure instantly blurred into motion, becoming a streak of purple-black lightning as he charged directly at the colossal monster.
The beast reacted immediately.
Turning its massive, skull-like head, it leveled its gigantic crystalline horns straight at Steven.
Then, with the force of a rampaging truck, it charged forward to meet him head-on.
BOOM!
The air exploded from the sheer impact as the two forces collided.
Steven’s human-sized frame looked insignificant compared to the towering beast—like a lone mantis trying to stop an oncoming semi-truck.
But against all odds, the tiny mantis did not break.
Instead, Steven held his ground completely, forcing the gigantic monster into a deadlock—neither side giving an inch.
<+>
Tn: The Fallingstar Beast is not really 1 : 1 with the original Fallingstar Beast, it has been changed to better fit the Arknight World.
One notable change is the beast original purple glow has changed to orange-glow.
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon.
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Chapter 117: Chapter 117: I'm The Storm That Is Approaching
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 117: I'm The Storm That Is Approaching
Gripping the Netherite Sword with one hand, Steven felt the immense impact coming from the blade. The monster before him, with its horns larger than those of an ordinary person, was pressing firmly against his sword, yet it couldn’t budge him in the slightest.
"Your strength is commendable, but unfortunately, it's still not enough."
Silently giving the creature a rating in his mind, Steven was about to exert force and send the monster flying when he suddenly felt a chilling wind rise behind him. The next moment, a thick layer of frost formed over the body of the Fallingstar Beast in front of him.
The force pressing against his sword lessened significantly, but Steven wasn’t concerned about that. Instead, he turned around, puzzled, and looked at the white-haired girl behind him, who was raising her hand and manipulating the cold air to freeze the monster.
‘This girl is trying to steal my kill?’
A hint of confusion flashed in his eyes. Steven couldn't understand why a bystander—someone unrelated to the fight—would step in like this.
She wouldn’t gain any experience points from slaying this creature like he would, so why suddenly interfere? Could it be for the Originium embedded in the beast?
But considering the sheer power she displayed—enough to control a monster like this—Steven felt that the situation probably wasn’t that simple.
Fortunately, the white-haired girl seemed to sense his questioning gaze. While still focusing on controlling the cold currents in an attempt to freeze the monster completely, she took a moment to respond to his doubts.
"If we let it go, everyone nearby will be in danger. Let's take it down together."
Just as Steven had guessed, the girl originally had no intention of getting involved. However, the monster’s sheer hostility toward all living beings was too obvious to ignore. She had never encountered a creature this dangerous before, and if it escaped, the entire snowy plains could be at risk.
Just from the power of its tail cannon earlier, she wasn’t even confident she could survive a direct hit.
She didn’t know who Steven was or how he managed to withstand the monster’s attack, but for now, the enemy of her enemy was her ally. If she helped him, there might be a chance to eliminate the creature.
So, with little hesitation, she endured the nauseating aura of active Originium energy radiating from the beast and made the reckless decision to join the battle.
"Alright, I appreciate the gesture, but have you considered that I might not actually need any help? Never mind, let's just deal with it first."
Steven scratched his head, unsure how to respond to this unexpected ally. However, since she meant well, he decided to set the matter aside for now.
The priority was dealing with the monster.
With the white-haired girl's freezing abilities aiding him, the monster’s once-powerful attacks became significantly weaker. Now that Steven had made up his mind to finish it off, he no longer held back.
Tightening his grip on his sword, he exerted force, and in an instant, he sent the monster—previously pressing against him—flying.
The enormous beast spun mid-air, almost comically.
But Steven had no intention of giving it a chance to regain its footing. The moment he knocked it away, he leaped up, appearing in front of the airborne monster, and slashed down at its strangely shaped skull.
The creature, its movements already slowed by the white-haired girl’s ability, had no way to dodge. It could only watch helplessly as Steven’s sword descended toward its head.
A split second later, a crisp "DUANG!" rang out, freezing all three of them—Steven, the girl, and the monster—in stunned silence.
Steven’s sword had only left a faint white mark on the crystalline skull, and instead of slicing through, it had simply bonked the monster straight into the ground below.
Steven silently sighed as he stared at his Netherite Sword, which had bounced back after striking the monster’s head.
The flesh on this thing’s skull was seriously lacking—his sword had actually rebounded from the impact. Did he need to soften it up first with a grappling hook or something?
He knew his sword was mainly for roasting meat and wasn’t enchanted with Sharpness, but the sheer toughness of the monster’s skull still exceeded his expectations, resulting in this ridiculous outcome.
"Watch out!"
Just as Steven was puzzling over this, the white-haired girl behind him suddenly shouted a warning.
The moment her voice reached his ears, an overwhelming surge of Originium energy erupted beneath him, shooting skyward like a pillar piercing the heavens.
This time, the monster didn’t even give him a chance to block. The explosion of Originium energy was so intense that it briefly dyed the entire snowy field in hues of orange and yellow.
Even the girl beside him was affected by the powerful surge. She clutched her shoulder, trying to suppress the searing pain caused by the restless Originium energy within her own body.
As the dust settled, the monster’s figure became visible again, its head shaking violently while its tail continued to fire energy blasts.
Even though Steven’s strike had failed to cut through, the sheer force behind it still had an impact. A spiderweb-like network of cracks had spread across the monster’s crystalized skull, and its mineralized body now seemed somewhat unstable.
No wonder it had unleashed such an all-out blast of Originium energy. If Steven had landed a few more hits like that, even a creature as tough as this wouldn’t have been able to avoid falling apart.
Both the monster and the white-haired girl assumed that Steven, standing at the epicenter of the explosion, had likely been obliterated.
But then, in an instant, a blade light that seemed capable of cutting the world itself apart slashed through the sky.
The massive energy pillar split cleanly in two.
And the dazzling slash didn’t stop there—it sliced right through the monster’s tail, cutting cleanly through the very limb that had been unleashing those powerful energy blasts.
When the blinding light faded, Steven stood there completely unharmed. He casually flicked his wrist, revealing a new weapon—a samurai longsword of deep purple and black, having silently replaced his previous one.
As he slowly turned around, the monster’s crystallized tail, now severed, fell cleanly from its base. The cut was so smooth it gleamed like a mirror.
For a moment, the monster itself didn’t even realize what had happened.
It wasn’t until its severed tail crashed heavily to the ground that it finally registered its injury.
Letting out an ear-piercing roar of rage, it ignored its wounds and charged at Steven once again.
But this time, Steven wasn’t going to give it another chance.
Perhaps his Netherite Sword was prone to bouncing off tough surfaces, but against [Yamato], a blade so sharp it was said to cut even space itself, the monster’s so-called hardened body was still far from sufficient.
Steven didn’t meet the charge head-on this time.
Instead, gripping the hilt of his sword, he vanished—moving so quickly it seemed as if he had teleported. One moment, he was in front of the monster. The next, he was suddenly at its side.
A pristine white arc of light traced through the air.
And in that instant, the monster’s front limbs separated from its body, sliding cleanly to the ground.
Without its balance, the massive creature collapsed forward, crashing heavily into the earth.
But before it could react, Steven was already above its head.
Casually swinging his long blade twice, Steven effortlessly sliced off the monster’s massive, bull-like horns. Shaking his head, he seemed utterly disappointed with its performance.
Then, as if the entire world had slowed down, countless white, thread-like slashes filled the space around the monster. Steven now stood behind it.
As he slowly sheathed [Yamato], the fragmented, mirror-like world surrounding him began to shatter.
Along with it, the once-imposing monster, seemingly indestructible, crumbled into neatly severed pieces—falling apart like a heap of Originium minerals.
“It’s over.”
The moment [Yamato] fully returned to its sheath, the space returned to normal, leaving behind only the perfectly cut remains of the monster, scattered across the battlefield like precious ore.
Since there had been an audience, Steven had insisted on perfectly replicating the ‘I’m the storm that is approaching’ move.
Sure, that white-haired girl was a complete stranger, but pulling off a stylish finish with someone watching was worlds apart from showing off alone, wasn’t it?
Unfortunately, his cool demeanor barely lasted three seconds before he snapped back to his usual carefree self.
Turning around, he dove straight into the monster’s remains like a bargain-hunting auntie at a marketplace, rummaging through the carcass for loot.
This was a boss monster, after all—if its health bar had been reduced to zero, it had to drop something good, right?
Just like the Wither drops a Nether Star and the Ender Dragon leaves behind a Dragon Egg—any creature with a boss health bar in Minecraft rarely disappoints when it comes to loot.
And sure enough, Steven got exactly what he was looking for.
[Pure Originium Core] : Slowly converts surrounding minerals into Originiums.
A simple description, but it instantly made Steven feel like all his effort had been worth it.
Since killing the creature hadn’t awarded him any WAP (World Acknowledgement Point), it likely wasn’t a monster that had appeared in the game’s main storyline.
However, with this item in hand, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of Originiums in the future.
As for the conversion speed?
Steven wasn’t concerned at all—if it was too slow, he’d just kill more of these monsters and farm multiple cores to speed up the process.
After all, there had to be plenty of Originium mines in this world, right?
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Chapter 118: Chapter 118: How Long Are You Going to Rub?
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 118: How Long Are You Going to Rub?
After collecting the loot dropped by the monster—even gathering the scattered fragments of its corpse—Steven finally remembered that there should have been an onlooker who had fallen to the ground.
Surveying the mining site, which had now turned into a deep crater, Steven finally spotted the white-haired girl lying on the ground, her face contorted in pain.
She had witnessed everything he had done before, but at this moment, none of that mattered as much as the agony brought on by the Originium in her body.
Already struggling to withstand the damage from her infection, her body had been further ravaged by the radiation from the highly active Originium aura released by the monster. Now, she felt as though she had been thrown into an icy abyss, unable to sense even the slightest warmth.
The cold, accompanied by waves of searing pain, assaulted her consciousness. But she knew that if she passed out now, she might never wake up again.
No, she couldn’t die here—not yet. There were still so many things she hadn’t done, so many dreams left unfulfilled. She hadn’t even experienced the true taste of candy, the kind she had always imagined.
So, she gritted her teeth, enduring the tormenting pain and cold, trying to hold on until her father arrived.
But to her surprise, it wasn’t her father who came for her. Instead, a somewhat familiar figure lifted her up.
A faint but nostalgic warmth radiated from the person supporting her. Though it was only a small trace, it was enough to keep her conscious. Summoning her last bit of strength, she forced her eyes open.
The first thing she saw was Steven’s face—handsome enough, and wearing a slight smile.
“Jeez, you’re really in bad shape,” he clicked his tongue. “I told you to stay back, but you just had to get involved. Good thing it was me you ran into.”
In a good mood after scoring some nice loot, Steven supported the girl with one hand while retrieving a healing potion from his backpack with the other.
Without hesitation, he pried open her lips—already stained with blood from biting down in pain—and poured the potion into her mouth. To prevent her from spitting it out, he pressed a hand over her lips.
Fortunately, the girl seemed to have lost the strength to resist. She only weakly struggled for a moment before going limp, as if resigning herself to her fate.
With a casual expression, Steven reached out and rubbed the pair of fluffy white rabbit ears atop her head.
After all, he had just saved her life—surely rubbing her ears a little wouldn’t be a big deal, right?
Back on Rhodes Island, Steven had always been intrigued by Amiya’s fluffy rabbit ears. Unfortunately, Kal'tsit had guarded her like a hawk, always watching him as if he were a thief. Whenever Amiya was around, Kal'tsit was never far behind.
As a result, though Steven had always wanted to touch them, he never got the chance.
But now, with such a perfect opportunity right in front of him, how could he possibly refuse?
He was rarely in the mood to be kind—taking a little reward for his good deed wasn’t too much to ask, right?
The girl’s ears were soft yet bouncy, and rubbing them felt like kneading a fluffy little furball. There was an indescribable stress-relieving sensation to it.
Just as Steven was thoroughly enjoying himself, the girl he had just propped up finally absorbed the effects of the healing potion. As the excruciating pain subsided, she turned her gaze toward the boy who was apparently unfamiliar with the concept of personal space—now happily playing with her ears.
Their eyes met. Steven’s fingers, which had been rhythmically rubbing, gradually came to a stop.
“You—”
“You what? Keep drinking.”
Before she could say anything, Steven raised his hand and pulled out a bottle of milk from his backpack, unceremoniously pouring it into her mouth.
The healing potion had only pulled her back from the brink of death; it couldn’t do anything about her infection. Back when they had faced the monster together, the radiation from its Originium energy had nearly activated the dormant Originium inside her body.
She had gone out of her way to help him, and while her assistance had been limited, Steven still acknowledged the gesture. Since that was the case, he figured he couldn’t just stand by and watch her condition worsen.
Helping treat Originium infections was no big deal for him—just a flick of the wrist.
But more than that, Steven was curious. The girl’s body seemed to be emitting a faint chill. Even though her ears were covered in soft white fur, his fingertips, as he rubbed them, gradually felt an unusual cold creeping in.
That was odd. Normally, he was incapable of perceiving temperature at all, yet he could clearly sense the cold now. That likely meant the girl in his arms had an abnormally low body temperature.
Even when he had encountered Frostleaf, another rabbit-eared girl, she had erupted with Originium energy while on the verge of death—but he had never felt cold from her.
Still, none of this was enough to stop him from rubbing those soft rabbit ears. Who wouldn’t enjoy something so fluffy?
While Steven was indulging in the delightful texture of the bunny ears, the girl in his arms was in complete shock.
If the potion he had forced down her throat earlier had alleviated her pain and replenished her strength, then the milk he had just poured into her mouth was having an entirely different effect.
She could feel the heavy burden that had been weighing down her body—seemingly destined to remain with her forever—gradually lifting. Though the process came with a searing, flesh-cutting pain, it was insignificant compared to the relief of her infection being suppressed.
More than that, for the first time, she felt her body temperature slowly rising. The warmth from Steven’s fingertips against her ears, as well as the heat radiating from his body, was something she simply couldn’t forget.
What the hell had this guy just made her drink?
There was no time to question why he was treating her like a pet and rubbing her ears so freely. Her head was swimming with confusion, but with her mouth still full of milk, she couldn’t say a word.
And so, despite the undeniably awkward nature of the scene, a strange sense of harmony settled between them—one that neither side seemed eager to break.
But, of course, this kind of thing couldn’t last forever.
As the last traces of milk were absorbed into her body, the girl—who now felt as if she had been reborn—gradually regained both her strength and consciousness.
“…How long do you plan on rubbing them?”
She blinked at him, her silver-gray eyes carrying a hint of weakness, but the deathly aura that had made her seem on the verge of passing away just moments ago was completely gone.
Not only that, but she had never felt so healthy before. It was as if she had returned to her childhood—back to a time before she had been infected with Oripathy.
“Ahem— If I told you I was helping with blood circulation and aiding in the absorption of the medicine, would that be a reason you could accept?”
Now that she had directly pointed it out, Steven couldn’t just keep rubbing her ears without a shred of shame. Awkwardly chuckling, he reluctantly withdrew his hand and met the gaze of the silver-eyed girl.
He hadn’t taken a good look at her before, but now that he had the chance, he realized—she was stunning.
Or perhaps it was just par for the course for a character from a Chinese mobile game. After all, out of all the girls Steven had encountered in that world, there were hardly any who couldn’t be called beautiful.
Even Kal'tsit, that cat girl who is likely older than all of Terra's current nation, was an undeniable beauty in terms of appearance.
Yet, despite all that, Steven found this girl particularly captivating. It was as if every one of her features aligned perfectly with his aesthetic preferences, making her presence feel inexplicably pleasant to him.
That was also part of the reason why he had chosen to save her.
Sure, the previous justification still stood, but the fact that he found her pleasing to the eye was another factor that couldn't be ignored.
He had wanted to help. He didn’t want to see her suffer and die from her illness. That was why he had gone to such lengths to treat her.
And in return, he felt an inexplicable sense of fulfillment. Perhaps this was what they called peace of mind.
“If I don’t accept it, will it erase what you just did? If not, then it really doesn’t matter whether I accept it or not.”
The white-haired girl’s rabbit ears twitched involuntarily before she mustered the strength to stand up from Steven’s arms.
She still vividly remembered how Steven had single-handedly dealt with that terrifying monster. It was hard to reconcile that image of a ruthless killing machine with the boy in front of her, who seemed like nothing more than a friendly neighbor.
No—if anything, Steven felt more like a walking enigma to her.
Who was he?
What was he trying to do?
Why had he appeared alongside that monster?
And most importantly—how exactly had he saved her?
Everything about him was a mystery.
But at least, for now, there was one thing she knew for sure.
Straightening out her slightly disheveled clothes and hair, the white-haired, rabbit-eared girl forced a faint smile onto her face and extended her small hand toward Steven.
“No matter what, you did save my life just now, didn’t you?” she said softly. “My name is Yelena. It’s nice to meet you.”
“—And thank you.”
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Chapter 119: Chapter 119: Leave It to Fate
Chapter Text
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 119: Leave It to Fate
“Steve, just a passing miner.”
Steven introduced himself with his usual alias as he reached out to support the girl named Yelena, who nearly collapsed again due to her lingering weakness.
Her Oripathy infection was far worse than anyone Steven had ever encountered—even worse than that of Frostleaf, who had been on the verge of death back then.
He couldn’t imagine how she had managed to survive this long. Given the level of Originium concentration in her body, she should have succumbed to the disease long ago.
Fortunately, she had the luck to run into him. Though he hadn’t fully cured her Oripathy in one go, at least now she wouldn’t die from a sudden worsening of the infection.
“...A miner?”
The white-haired, rabbit-eared girl tilted her head, her long ears twitching slightly in confusion. The sight made Steven feel an almost irresistible urge to reach out and give them another squeeze.
This guy—who had just fought against a nightmarish monster the size of a building—was calling himself a miner?
What kind of miner could fight like that?
She didn’t even need to bring up anything else—the fact that he could unleash invisible sword slashes and send a two-story-tall monster flying with one hand was already ridiculous enough. And he expected her to believe he was just a miner?
Yelena wasn’t exactly well-educated, but even she knew he was obviously lying to her face.
“Yeah, I was captured and forced to mine. The other workers at the mining site can vouch for me. As for that thing we just fought, well, you know how it is—accidents happen when you’re mining, right?”
Steven had always been very clear about his professional identity. Whatever task he was performing at the moment determined his role.
If he was mining, then he was a miner.
If he was treating someone, then he was a doctor.
If he was fighting, then he was a fighter.
No one said you couldn’t have multiple jobs, right?
“…Do you have some kind of misunderstanding about the word ‘accident’?” Yelena’s expression darkened slightly. “That monster—do you really think it can be described as just an ‘accident’?”
She instinctively turned to point at the corpse of the terrifying creature they had just fought—only to realize, in stunned silence, that it was gone.
She had only been distracted by pain for a short while, but now, the enormous body of that monster had vanished without a trace.
“…How?”
“Ah, don’t sweat the small stuff,” Steven waved dismissively. “Why focus on little details? As a patient, you should be worrying about getting some rest. Looks like your companions are on their way, anyway. That means our business here is done.”
He patted his hands as if wrapping things up. “We’ll meet again if fate allows.”
Steven could already tell from Yelena’s expression that she was about to bombard him with a ton of questions. He had seen this kind of look too many times from Talulah—he was more than used to it by now.
But he had neither the patience nor the interest to explain everything to her.
As far as he was concerned, there was no longer any reason to continue digging at this mining site. His goal for coming here had already been achieved, and it was time to head back and sort things out.
As for Yelena, she had gotten involved because of him, and she had even helped him during the fight. He had repaid that favor by treating her Oripathy—so as far as he was concerned, they were even.
Sure, he felt a slight, inexplicable fondness for her.
But that was about it.
He had already done enough for her—essentially extending her lifespan. What more could she expect from him?
So, when Steven saw those strange people, dressed in a similar fashion to the girl, slowly approaching from the ruins surrounding the mining site, he knew it was time to part ways.
At least he had fulfilled his wish of squeezing those rabbit ears. That alone made this whole encounter somewhat worthwhile, didn’t it?
“Eh? But— Mr. Steve, you—”
Yelena was caught off guard by Steven’s sudden decision to leave. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.
At the end of the day, Steven was shrouded in mystery—his appearance, his actions, everything about him. If she hadn’t recklessly stepped in to help him back then, their paths might never have crossed at all.
And to be honest, her so-called assistance had been completely insignificant to someone like him.
But the lightness in her body, the newfound energy coursing through her veins, reminded her just how effective Steven’s treatment had been. No one understood her condition better than she did. The sensation of strength bubbling up from within—something she had never thought possible—was all the proof she needed.
“Would you be interested in joining the Guerrilla Fighter? Even if you’re not an Infected, I don’t think you’d just stand by and watch as these oppressed people continue to suffer, would you?”
After much hesitation, Yelena finally made up her mind and extended the invitation.
Steven’s combat prowess aside, just his ability to treat Oripathy alone made him an invaluable asset—someone any organization would fight over. Even without considering those factors, she still sincerely hoped he would join them.
After all, he was her savior, wasn’t he?
“Heh, you think too highly of me.”
Steven waved his hand dismissively. “You should focus more on yourself. I don’t have any plans to join an organization.”
He had no particular interest in the so-called Guerrilla Fighter. He had always been a lone wolf, and getting involved in group politics and scheming wasn’t his thing.
More importantly, he hated being told what to do.
“I’ve treated most of your condition, but if you keep recklessly using your Originium Arts like before, your infection will definitely worsen again. If you want to live longer, I suggest you use your abilities less.”
Steven stretched lazily and scanned the approaching guerrilla fighters, who seemed to be preparing to “rescue” Yelena from him. Then, as if he had just remembered something, he casually threw in a warning.
He could sense the immense power within her. That freezing, world-shattering cold she had unleashed earlier wasn’t an illusion—it was real. But it was obvious that her body couldn’t handle it.
This was the most he could do for her—offer a simple warning. Though, he figured she probably understood the risks herself.
“…Then will we meet again?”
Yelena, already knowing that he was determined to leave, didn’t insist on recruiting him anymore. Instead, with a hint of expectation in her voice, she asked her final question.
“If I need your help with treatment again, where can I find you?”
She had no idea how he had done it, but at least she knew he truly possessed the ability to heal her. If that was the case, then maybe—just maybe—her father still had a chance to be saved.
“We’ll leave that to fate.”
Steven didn’t give her a direct answer. Instead, he turned his back to her. And in the next instant, his body disintegrated into a dazzling burst of purple particles—vanishing as if he had never been there.
“Big Sis! Are you alright?”
It was only then that the guerrilla fighters, clad in their signature red-and-white outfits, finally rushed to Yelena’s side, their faces filled with concern.
They had only been able to observe the situation from a distance. The mere residual Originium energy waves emitted by that monster had been enough to worsen their Oripathy, which was why Yelena had ordered them to retreat in the first place.
All they could see were the towering beams of Originium light piercing the sky and the relentless, earthquake-like shockwaves that followed.
It wasn’t until the turbulent Originium energy finally subsided that they dared to approach and investigate what had happened.
But by then, the terrifying monster was nowhere to be found. All that remained was their leader and a mysterious stranger who had appeared out of nowhere. For a moment, they had no idea how to react.
And just as they arrived, that man had vanished into thin air.
If they wanted answers, it seemed only their leader could provide them.
“I’m fine… In fact, I’ve never felt better.”
Yelena clenched her fists slightly, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of health radiating from within her body. It was almost too surreal, as if she were trapped in a dream.
“Big Sis, as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters. But who was that guy? And what happened to that monster?”
Hearing Yelena confirm that she was unharmed, the guerrilla fighters collectively sighed in relief. As long as she was safe, they could ask about everything else later.
They had always known about her fragile condition, yet looking at her now, she didn’t seem to be forcing herself to appear strong.
After all, they had rarely seen her with such a healthy flush on her face—like a normal person.
“That guy… He’s probably someone really powerful. Anyway, he helped me out a lot. But it looks like this mine is no longer viable for resource extraction. Let’s head back—we still need to take care of the miners.”
As her comrades brought up Steven, Yelena couldn’t help but smile slightly. She didn’t know why, but when she thought of that somewhat handsome young man and the warmth he radiated, a strange and indescribable emotion stirred in her heart.
Regardless, she had to report everything to her father.
Setting aside the matter of uncovering Steven’s true identity, there was still the issue of that monstrous being hidden beneath the mine. She had never even heard of such a creature before, let alone encountered one with such overwhelming Originium energy.
If Steven hadn’t intervened, she would have stood no chance against it.
When had such terrifying monsters begun lurking beneath Ursus’ lands?
If she wanted answers, there was no one better to ask than that stubborn old Sarkaz captain—her father.
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