By the time Steven walked out of the guerrilla camp, the way the guerrilla members looked at him had clearly changed.
How should he put it?
He had seen the exact same expression before—from the villagers in that previous village.
It was enough to make him feel both amused and helpless.
After all, when he said one pound of minerals, he was referring to refined ore. In his original world, even selling scrap metal would definitely be worth more than a pound of potatoes. Yet somehow, these people were acting as if he was doing charity work—practically desperate to hand over all their materials to him.
What was going on?
But after thinking it through, it made sense.
For the guerrillas, these minerals were practically useless. They didn't have the proper facilities to process them, nor did they have official trade channels. To them, these ores were nothing more than a pile of scrap metal.
How could a heap of useless junk compare to a soft, sweet loaf of pure wheat bread—untouched by wood dust or fillers?
Of course, Steven didn't care what they thought.
All he knew was that this deal was a guaranteed profit.
Forget farming being nearly zero cost for him. Even if he had to exchange the food via EMC points, he was still making a profit every single time.
So why wouldn't he do this kind of business?
That was why Steven's face carried a satisfied smile.
At the very least, this transaction had been a win-win for both sides.
<+>
Walking alongside him was a white-haired, rabbit-eared girl who had changed out of her signature Yeti Squad uniform and into a simple, thin linen outfit.
"You really think someone like me needs you to escort me home?"
Steven glanced at the girl trailing behind him, chuckling as he tilted his head and asked.
"Who said I was escorting you? The issue here is—you're now our Guerrilla Fighter's biggest client, our food supplier, and basically our logistics captain. I need to at least know where you live, right? Otherwise, how are we supposed to find you when we need to trade?"
Yelena rolled her eyes at him.
This guy was so full of himself.
Did she look like the kind of woman who would personally escort a guy home?
Besides, wasn't this kind of thing supposed to be something men did for women?
"Good point. Since we're trade partners now, dropping by each other's places makes sense. But since you guys call yourselves a Guerrilla Fighter, doesn't that mean your camp moves around a lot?"
Steven nodded seriously. What Yelena said was reasonable.
After all, he couldn't always be the one coming over to find the guerrillas.
Having an address would make things much easier.
"At least for now, it won't move. We need to keep an eye on that unusual group of infected, as well as any Infected Patrol Squads that might make a large-scale move after setting up ambushes."
Yelena didn't bother hiding anything from Steven.
After all, his trustworthiness wasn't an issue.
In fact, he had played a huge part in the destruction of that mining site earlier.
But the most important thing was—Steven didn't treat the infected any differently.
For the infected, who were highly sensitive to discrimination, this was something they could easily tell.
And Steven?
He genuinely had none of that prejudice.
He never acted like he was superior to anyone.
When he spoke to her, to Patriot, or even to the regular guerrilla members, he always placed himself on equal footing.
That was rare.
"Oh, so that means if I wanna drop by for a stroll in the next few days, I just gotta follow this route?"
Steven squinted his eyes slightly.
He had already wandered all over his village, having basically explored every nook and cranny.
Now that he could roam around the guerrilla camp, this was actually pretty exciting for him.
"First, you need to report to my father. At the very least, let him know when you're entering the camp. If you do that, he won't say much—it's just how he is."
Yelena gave Steven a helpless glance.
To be honest, she was really curious—how did Steven spend his day?
Did he not have any clear goals?
It always felt like he just did whatever came to mind, completely on impulse.
And this personality of his… seemed particularly prone to clashing with her old man.
After all, that stubborn old fossil loved careful planning, where everything was mapped out and executed in strict order.
"Sigh~~ Even if I didn't tell him, he still couldn't beat me anyway."
Steven smirked, thinking about that stubborn and prideful old man.
Especially when he remembered how that imposing, battle-hardened warrior, always radiating an aura of pure intimidation, had stood guard in front of a pile of potato bread—as if terrified Steven would suddenly change his mind.
The image alone nearly made Steven laugh out loud.
How should he put it?
It was such a hilarious contrast—but at the same time, it was… a little sad.
Even a warrior of that level still had to worry about food.
What had this world come to?
Then again…
Not my problem.
As long as he had enough to eat and drink, what happened to the rest of the world wasn't his concern.
"He never doubted that you wouldn't harm me in the first place. After all, after testing your strength, he said it himself—if you really wanted to do something to me, you wouldn't need any excuses or tricks."
As Yelena spoke, she suddenly turned her face toward Steven, her gaze lingering on his features, as if searching for something.
His strength was far beyond what a normal teenager should have.
No—more than that…
It was beyond human.
Yet the way he spoke, acted, and carried himself was completely that of a young man.
The contradiction bothered her.
Who exactly was this guy?
"Be honest with me—"
She nudged him with her elbow, her skin colder than the winter wind that howled around them.
"How old are you really? And more importantly… Are you really human?"
Steven glanced at her, unimpressed.
Then, in an exaggerated manner, he patted his chest and proudly declared:
"When it comes to age, just go by what you see! As long as I have the heart of a young man, that means I am young!"
"As for questioning whether I'm human—let me tell you something."
Steven's expression turned dead serious, his tone full of undeniable confidence.
"In this world, I might just be the purest human alive."
Considering how everywhere he went, all he saw were beast-eared furries—
Steven had yet to meet another human quite as pure as himself.
When it came to his actual age, Steven felt a little… awkward.
If he counted all the time he had spent in Minecraft, then he was basically ancient—practically an immortal ancestor by Xianxia novel standards.
But Steven didn't really mind.
So what if he was technically old?
As long as his heart was young, he was still a teenager.
"Pfft, forget it."
Yelena let out a soft laugh, watching his reaction with amusement.
"Talking about this is pointless anyway. At the very least, I'm still willing to see you as someone my age."
She clasped her hands behind her back, her rabbit ears twitching slightly in the cold wind as she locked eyes with him.
"But why did you choose to trade with the guerrillas?"
Her expression turned serious, filled with curiosity and doubt.
"You should know that helping us is a serious crime in Ursus. If you continue, there's no way you'll be able to avoid getting dragged into it."
Yelena wasn't the only one wondering about this—many of the guerrillas also struggled to understand Steven's intentions.
Was he really just… doing charity work?
Or—
Surely he didn't actually have feelings for her… right?
"Hmm?"
Steven tilted his head, as if the answer was obvious.
"I already told you—I just felt like it."
"People who are lazy like me always try to find the easiest way to do something. As for offending Ursus—"
He gave a carefree shrug.
"Is that even a real problem?"
"I'm just doing business—if they insist on interfering, well… I might just have to do some very unreasonable things in return."
As he spoke, Steven casually reached into his backpack and pulled out a blaze rod.
Without hesitation, he dropped it into a water bottle.
In an instant—
The simple makeshift thermos was complete.
"Here."
He handed the bottle to the girl beside him.
"Hold onto this—being near you feels like standing next to a fridge."
With a slight frown, he playfully scolded her.
"Can't you at least make some effort to stay warm?"
Steven didn't notice it at first, but—
The moment Yelena took the warm bottle, she froze for a second.
Then—
The corners of her lips curled up ever so slightly, forming a subtle, almost imperceptible smile.
<+>
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