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.