[ Re-translated on September / 11 /2025 ]
Chapter 4: Too Weak
The instant Steven drew his blade, the fragile equilibrium on the beach shattered.
The creatures known as the Seaborn were never rational to begin with—their earlier attempt at "negotiation" had only been their animal instincts chained down for a moment.
Now that Steven had refused to comply, there was no longer any need for restraint.
"Blood… flesh… nourishment…"
With a chorus of shrill, ear-splitting screeches, the pack went wild, surging forward like starving wolves descending on prey.
In terms of sheer numbers and bulk, Steven was at a disadvantage.
At least… that's what it looked like.
He seemed to realize this as well. After unsheathing that black longsword, he simply stood still—frozen, as though cowed by the monsters' overwhelming ferocity.
The strongest among them lunged first, its rotting stench filling Steven's nose as slimy claws reached for his chest. In just a heartbeat, it would cleave him in two.
Clang!
The sound of steel rang out.
The violet-black blade gleamed between Steven and death, halting the monster's killing strike mid-swing.
The boy who had stood motionless till now merely flicked his wrist, as if brushing away an annoying insect. The hulking creature was hurled backwards, sent tumbling across the sand.
"…Seriously? That's it?"
Steven blinked, almost disappointed.
"With faces that ugly, I figured you guys had traded beauty for strength. But turns out you're weak and hideous. What a scam."
He had paused earlier not out of fear, but because their charging speed was laughable—on par with a granny power-walking.
He honestly hadn't known how to roast them first.
Gladiia's swimming earlier had led him to expect that physical abilities in this world would be at least super-soldier tier. But this? A letdown.
Sure, the monsters had tracked her down, so he'd assumed they were at her level. But one clash was all it took for him to feel underwhelmed.
"Too weak. Did you really think a pair of claws would stop me? Pathetic."
Conveniently forgetting the possibility that maybe he was just absurdly strong, Steven casually swatted away another spawn trying to sneak up on him.
"Not fast, not strong, and not very bright, either."
He shook his head with genuine disappointment.
"Ugly and useless. That's your whole résumé."
When it came to other things, he might admit to being bad at them.
But fighting monsters? That was his specialty.
After surviving so many years in the blocky Minecraft world, he'd slaughtered more zombies and skeletons than he could count—his [Yamato]s carried tens of thousands of spirits as proof.
At least in battle, Steven had absolute confidence.
Slay enough monsters, and you can't help but become an expert.
Without giving his enemies even a breath to respond, Steven cut them down in quick, efficient swings.
No fancy moves—those belonged to the modded systems he couldn't use here.
For now, only plain, honest sword swings remained.
But "hit hard, hit fast" worked in every world.
Especially since he wasn't just strong—he was Minecrafter-level strong. Even he didn't know the upper limit of his own strength.
People die when they're killed.
And monsters… were no exception.
Before long, the pack that had just moments ago charged with such bloodlust now lay scattered across the sand.
All but the strongest had been cleaved in two, reduced to twitching heaps by Steven's merciless swings.
[Ding! You have slain a plot monster. World Acknowledgement Point +10, +10, +10—]
A string of glowing notifications popped up in the corner of his vision. Steven blinked at first, then broke into a wide grin.
"So killing monsters gets me some WAP too, huh? I think I'm starting to get the hang of this system."
In other words, make trouble, get points.
And the prompts specifically mentioned "plot characters" and "plot monsters." That meant the targets were… well, conveniently labeled.
Stroking his chin, Steven strolled up to the sole survivor—the bulky one he'd punted into the sand earlier. The creature was dragging itself free of the pit when Steven casually stomped down, snapping its forelimb with a crunch before squatting to meet its single eye.
"Mind answering a few questions for me?"
Probably the first man in this world to try interrogating a Seaborn, Steven figured he might as well. Gladiia could've been useful, but she was… well, currently running on half a brain thanks to him.
"You… monster… must… warn… kin…"
The creature's words were halting, distorted. Despite the broken limb, it showed no sign of pain—its milky eye fixed on Steven with wary hostility.
"Oh, I'm the monster now? Wow. Real classy, pal. Just because I've got a little muscle?" Steven snorted, idly cleaving away another tentacle that had been sneaking up through the sand beneath him.
Not smart, but crafty enough.
"You cannot… stop… evolution. I will… return…"
The Seaborn rasped, its eye shifting toward the white-haired girl behind Steven, as if to pass on a final curse.
"Kin… we shall… reunite… beneath the oce—"
Splurch!
The sentence was cut short by a black, trident-like spear that lanced clean through its skull, erupting in a spray of foul ichor.
Steven's mouth twitched. Slowly, he turned back.
Behind him, Gladiia stood with the strange weapon still in her hands.
For a heartbeat, her aura had reverted to the sharp, commanding presence from when he'd first seen her. Fierce. Untouchable.
But just as quickly, her crimson eyes glazed over once more, that fleeting clarity vanishing like smoke.
"…Did you seriously just steal my kill and then go back to being dumb?"
Steven shot to his feet, pinching her soft cheeks in frustration. If not for the status window hovering above her head confirming "Amnesiac," he would've sworn she was faking it.
He'd lost ten points worth of loot to her kill-steal. The least he could do was squeeze some of that deficit back out of her face.
But before he could get started, Gladiia suddenly collapsed forward, all strength draining from her body.
"Oi—hey!"
Her tall frame pressed against his chest, warm and soft. The faint fragrance of sea breeze and iron filled his senses.
Steven froze, hands hovering uselessly in midair.
His earlier plan of tugging her cheeks as punishment dissolved instantly.
"…Fine. Not gonna argue with an idiot, I guess."
With a sigh, he tightened his grip around the girl, letting her weight rest against him.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M