"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.