"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.