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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