Chapter 264: You Might Want to Reconsider Your Position
Steven had absolutely no idea that Zofia's sense of smell was that sharp. But even if he had been exposed, well—he wouldn't lose sleep over it.
Right now, he had a much more immediate problem: how to deal with the girl beside him—Maria—who was staring up at him with sparkly eyes so intense it felt like stars might literally burst from her pupils at any second.
"Can you… not look at me like that? It's giving me weird vibes."
It wasn't like Steven hadn't been looked at with admiration before. It was just… this was Maria. Why was she suddenly looking at him like he was the Second Coming of Jesus? Something wasn't adding up.
"Ehehe~ I'm just super curious," she said sweetly. "I mean, what kind of organization did my sister even join? What does she actually do these days? Mister Steve—no, wait—Big Brother Steve, won't you tell me~?"
That soft, honeyed "Big Brother" nearly made his knees buckle. Teenage girls when they start acting cute were honestly just short of lethal.
So that's what this was about. She wasn't idolizing him—not really. Her awe was all directed at her sister, Nearl.
Clutching his arm with those wide, hopeful eyes, Maria pulled out every trick in the book. She was definitely making the most of her age advantage—and Steven honestly had no idea how to say no to her.
"I mean… I don't really know your sister all that well," Steven replied with a shrug. "I've only met her a few times. But from what I've seen? Yeah, she's got quite a few people following her. And she's the kind who inspires people with her beliefs. In short—someone with real charm."
It wasn't a lie. Nearl is one of the most charismatic people Steven had ever met. Even within Rhodes Island, there were people who practically worshipped her. She was just that kind of person.
And with her always hanging around those two Sarkaz girls… well, let's just say Steven had questions. The kind you didn't ask the little sister of someone you suspect of being in a very complicated, very ambiguous three-way relationship.
So Steven just smiled and tried to be vague.
"Really?" Maria tilted her head, finger pressed to her lips in classic puzzled-teen fashion. "Then… this 'Rhodes Island' company she keeps talking about—what is it, exactly? Is it really just a medical company?"
Now that caught him off guard.
She had unwittingly stumbled onto the question—the one even the higher-ups at Rhodes Island would struggle to answer with a straight face.
If you asked Amiya, the literal head of the place, she'd probably stammer out some awkward line like: "Of course it's a medical company! We focus on, um… medical stuff. And treatments. Definitely that."
Steven had been there for over a month now, and he still didn't have a solid answer.
The truth? They did everything. From resolving inter-nation political crises to finding a farmer's lost chicken, there was nothing Rhodes Island wouldn't get involved in. If you could name it, they probably already had a task force assigned to it.
Ironically, the one thing they seemed least good at… was actual medicine. For all their big talk, they still hadn't figured out a cure for Oripathy—and sure, it wasn't all their fault, but it was a little awkward to say out loud.
Of course, that was just a joke.
When you really got down to it, Steven could still give her a straight answer:
"If I had to put it into words… Rhodes Island is an organization that, more than anything, wants to make life better for the Infected. A place that's trying to give them a real future on this land."
Steven shrugged lightly.
From everything he'd seen during his time with Rhodes Island, their actions seemed to stem from a single, consistent goal. And that goal—helping the Infected find a place in this fractured world—was something Steven found himself slowly coming to support.
If they could stay true to that original intent, then yeah. He wouldn't mind backing them with his Minecraft stuff.
"…I see," Maria murmured, though it was clear she didn't fully grasp the weight of his words.
Still, she did understand one thing:
Her sister was doing something important. Meaningful. And she was part of a noble organization.
That was enough to make her eyes shine.
"That's amazing… I wonder when I'll become someone people admire, like my sister…"
Her voice dropped to a wistful murmur, her tone thick with longing.
She wasn't just admiring her sister—she wanted to become like her. To be a ray of light that could brighten the lives of others.
Steven gave a soft chuckle and reached out to ruffle her hair like an indulgent older brother.
"You've still got time. You're young, and you've got room to grow. Who knows? Maybe in a few years, you'll shine even brighter than she does. But first… you've got to take that first step."
He said it with a smile, a little like a guardian, a little like someone who'd already seen too much of the world.
To be honest, he didn't think being someone like Nearl was necessarily a good thing.
People who burned that brightly usually had to sacrifice something—maybe not their lives, but something else. Something just as precious.
But if Maria wanted to chase that path on her own, then who was he to stop her?
Maria shrank back shyly from the head-pat, her cheeks a little pink, but her eyes glowed even brighter with determination. Then she returned his smile with one of her own—energetic, dazzling, and full of youthful promise.
"Alright then! I'll borrow your blessing, Big Brother Steve! I'll do my best!"
She clenched her small fists and nodded with fiery spirit. Then, realizing they'd wandered all the way to the hospital's front steps, she gasped.
"Oh no, I still have to take care of Auntie!"
With a quick thank-you, she scampered back inside, her blond hair bouncing behind her.
Steven watched her disappear into the hospital, then let out a long, relaxed sigh as he dropped onto a bench beneath the dim glow of a flickering street lamp.
'Yeah,' he thought. 'That's what girls her age are supposed to be like.'
Bright. Energetic. Optimistic. Dreaming about the future.
Wasn't that the whole point of being a teenager?
But when he thought about the other girls he'd met…
Talulah? A dragon girl dead set on rebellion.
Alina? A tragically precocious girl who matured too early.
Irene? Sure, her age matched, but she'd probably spilled more blood than the foundation Zofia used.
And Kal—wait, why the hell was he lumping Kal'tsit in with them?! Shouldn't he be thinking of Amiya instead?
Steven scratched his head in mild embarrassment.
That train of thought had clearly gone off the rails.
Before he could dwell on it too long, a faint sound reached his ears—the soft scrape of footsteps in the dark.
From the shadows, a young man with vivid blue hair stepped into view and sat at the other end of the bench.
Steven glanced over, locking eyes with the newcomer.
"Girls that age really are something special," the man said with a wistful sigh, like he was speaking to no one in particular. "Just watching them is enough to remind you of how beautiful youth can be."
He smiled faintly, face calm and voice light.
"Don't you think so, Mister Steve?"
Steven raised an eyebrow.
"Sure, I guess that's fair to say," he replied, voice slow and deliberate. "But what does that have to do with you Armorless Union bastards? Don't tell me you've sunk so low you're going after kids now?"
His tone was light, almost casual, as though he couldn't even feel the crossbows currently trained on his head from the shadows nearby.
But his words were sharp—cutting straight to the identity of the man sitting next to him.
"How could we possibly do that?" the blue-haired young man replied, his voice light and polite, as if they were merely old friends having a pleasant chat. "We're just… curious about you, Mister Steve. That's all. And while we're at it, we figured we'd ask for a bit of an explanation."
His tone was disarmingly casual—there wasn't a hint of menace in it. And yet, the air around him practically buzzed with unspoken pressure.
He didn't need to raise his voice. His presence alone was more than enough to press in on all sides.
"After all," he continued, "you are a foreigner in Kazimierz. It's one thing to interfere with the Armorless Union's surveillance efforts—that's minor, really—but injuring our Platinum? That calls for a proper explanation, wouldn't you agree?"
Steven raised an eyebrow, unfazed.
"Huh? You're saying I interfered with your surveillance plan?" He scoffed. "Peeping and eavesdropping are what usually get people locked up, not praised. I'm pretty sure you guys are the ones who should be explaining yourselves."
He tilted his head, his smile turning ever so slightly sharp.
"As for that woman… let's call it a warning. Though, judging by your tone, it seems you didn't take it seriously enough."
There was no sign of tension in his voice. He looked more at ease than someone relaxing on vacation. Even surrounded by hidden crossbows aimed at his head, he didn't bat an eye.
If anything, he looked bored.
"I see," the blue-haired man said, finally dropping the pretense. The warmth in his voice faded, replaced by cold steel. "But you do realize, don't you? In the Grand Knight Territory of Kazimierz, once night falls… it's the Armorless Union who writes the rules."
He gave a slow, deliberate smile.
"And if I remember correctly, that 'Platinum' you injured… wasn't she your friend? You went that far against someone close to you. Isn't that… a little heartless?"
With that, the mask fully dropped. He wasn't just implying they held power here—he was declaring it.
Steven's smile only widened.
"That's exactly why she's still alive," he said, voice soft, almost a whisper. "I held back because she was a friend."
Then he leaned forward slightly, eyes still not meeting the man's gaze. His tone dipped, and something dangerous slithered between his words.
"Now imagine how I'll treat you… a stranger."
The blue-haired youth paused, then gave a small sigh—equal parts impressed and annoyed.
"Well, then. It seems you really haven't grasped the situation you're in, Mister Steve. Maybe it's time for some formal introductions."
He placed a hand on his chest and gave a theatrical bow.
"My name is Roy. Lazurite of the Armorless Union. I currently command three elite assassination squads, each twenty men strong."
Then he straightened, smile returning—but now, it was predatory.
"And you, I'm afraid… are tonight's target."
His words hung in the air like a blade ready to fall.
"So now… are you ready to talk properly?"
Roy's smile didn't change, but something about him had shifted—like a predator waiting for a twitch, a flinch, anything to pounce on.
But even now, Steven didn't flinch. If anything, his calm seemed to deepen.
And that made Roy frown.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
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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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