Chapter 416: Overwhelming, Just Like That
Ignoring the little crocodile whose worldview had just shattered after learning the "key ingredient" of his miracle Oripathy treatment, Steven calmly walked out of the infirmary.
Even after revealing the most crucial raw material, he wasn't worried at all about someone stealing his "core technology." Without milk that he produced, it was nothing more than regular, ordinary milk. Even if it came from some mythical cow, don't expect it to cure debuffs—honestly, if it didn't give you diarrhea, that would already be considered good luck.
And Gavial would need time—maybe even the combined effort of the entire Rhodes Island Medical Department—to analyze that bucket of milk he'd given her and somehow turn it into the kind of anti-Oripathy medication he envisioned. Steven had no interest in lingering and getting interrogated endlessly.
He simply told her: If you run out of that milk and need more for research, come find me.
And with that, he escaped the medical room that would definitely become a hotspot of chaos.
She would report this to Kal'tsit—no doubt about it. Steven knew that perfectly well. Which meant he also understood just how massive a bomb he had thrown into the middle of Rhodes Island's research department.
No—it wasn't just Rhodes Island. It was a bomb for the entire world.
After all, his medicine wasn't some suppressant that delayed Oripathy's progression—it genuinely reduced the disease.
A small gift, from him, to all the kind, resilient, hopeful Infected he had met.
At the very least, it was a glimmer of light for those living in the deepest darkness.
As for the consequences after that? He didn't care. His plan was simple: let Gavial take the credit.
History would say she created the drug. No one would guess the truth. Let anyone who wanted answers go question her.
He would step up when someone goes physical.
Feeling like he'd contributed, however slightly, to this world, Steven walked out with a proud smile only he understood. He was considering whether to take this good mood to gather a few Elite Operators to play some poker when his communicator suddenly rang.
"Oh? Even runaway fish know how to look back someday? Don't tell me the sun's rising from the west."
He poked his head out the window—sunrise from the east, as usual. Then he smirked and answered the call.
"What's wrong? Calling to tell me you're too busy to visit this poor old father of yours? Or did someone bully you outside and now you want me to get justice for you? I'm just a lonely old man—didn't think you'd ever remember I exist."
Steven even sounded like a stereotypical neglected elder—only missing an old black-and-white TV playing beside him.
"No mood to entertain your pointless nonsense," Gladiia replied, her voice as cold as ever.
"But… yes. I do miss you. A little."
That sudden straight-line confession at the end cut through all of Steven's teasing. His smirk froze, and he stopped joking altogether.
"If you miss me, then show it," he said softly. "You know you can call me anytime, right? And if you really miss me… I can go to you. Right now. Promise I'll appear in front of you in a blink."
Steven scratched his head. How should he describe this "daughter" of his? Her personality was honestly a complete oddity. Most of the time, she was as cold as a machine, yet she never hid her emotions—every word she spoke was a direct, lethal fastball straight to the heart.
Abyssal Hunters really weren't simple. There wasn't a single one he could easily handle.
"No need. I'll return to Rhodes Island in a while. Just take care of Laurentina and Skadi for me."
Steven had expected Gladiia to accept immediately and bluntly as usual… but her response instead made his brows knit tightly.
A declaration of returning should've been good news—yet not a trace of joy appeared on his face.
"What is it? Did something actually happen? That doesn't sound like you at all. The little swordfish I know never talks about what'll happen 'later.' Is your situation that hard to deal with?"
As he spoke, Steven decisively pulled out his Warp Stone, already selecting a coordinate linked to the Iberian Waystone.
"It's a bit troublesome. Mainly time-consuming. Hard to deal with? …Not really."
Gladiia replied while smashing the head of a grotesque fish-like monster with her spear, its warped body collapsing at her feet. Only after finishing did she answer Steven, her expression unreadable.
But all she heard in reply… was a series of disconnected beeps.
Just as she frowned and was about to put away the communicator she normally treasured, the space behind her suddenly tore open into an eerie black void. A moment later, Steven strode out from within.
"The scene in front of you is more than 'a bit troublesome.' Didn't think I'd ever see the day where you pretend everything's fine."
He casually glanced around—clearly the inside of a sunken ship, arranged like some cult's ritual chamber. Then he lowered his gaze to the monsters' corpses and sighed at her.
"I'm not pretending. They were never a threat to me. But… forget it."
Whatever momentary surprise she felt at his sudden appearance vanished quickly. With her usual calm, Gladiia swung her long spear—its motion creating a whirlpool-like force that pulled Steven straight to her side.
"I like you best when you act defiant like this."
Steven had planned to ask about her situation, maybe check if she was injured. But before he could speak, Gladiia leaned in, wrapped her arms around him, and seized his lips with a fierce, possessive kiss—cutting off whatever concern he had planned to voice.
In a space littered with bloody, mangled monster remains, a scene as dramatic as a prince kissing a sleeping beauty unfolded out of nowhere.
Except this time… Steven was the sleeping beauty.
"There are a lot of unfamiliar scents on you," she murmured against him, voice low and dangerous. "Looks like you're even more popular than I thought. But that's fine. Eventually… I'll make you mine."
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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