Chapter 148: Must Be Diluted!
Just as Steven had said, the so-called special medicine for Oripathy that Yelena spoke of—something even Kal'tsit considered incredibly precious—was actually almost costless for him.
After all, how much could a bucket of milk possibly be worth? He could spawn an infinite number of cows using monster eggs, and in Minecraft, cows were absurdly gifted creatures that could produce an endless supply of milk without even needing to graze. It was practically a capitalist's gold mine.
Moreover, providing the medicine to the Guerrilla Fighter and providing it to Rhodes Island were two entirely different matters. If given to the guerrillas, they would at most use it to save their dying comrades. But if Kal'tsit got her hands on it, Steven couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't use it for something else entirely.
After all, no matter what, Rhodes Island's full name was Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals Inc. And Steven was all too familiar with what a corporation stood for.
It was like handing over a single potato—if you gave it to a starving refugee, they'd simply think about how best to cook it for a meal. But if you gave it to a corporation, they'd be figuring out how to squeeze the most value out of that single potato.
Setting all of that aside, if Steven truly wanted to mass-produce this so-called miracle drug, there was still one problem he hadn't yet solved—
And that was figuring out just how much water he needed to dilute a bucket of milk.
A single bucket of pure milk would undoubtedly cure Oripathy instantly, but at the same time, the person being treated would probably meet their end just as quickly. If he wanted to turn this into a widely usable emergency medicine, the first thing he had to do was dilute it.
If the drug was too potent, just water it down, right?
This was what Steven liked to call Imperial Jade Liquid Wine, and he was going to sell it at a premium—180 LMD per dose, minimum.
"The pricing can be discussed later. It'll be expensive, but within a range that you can afford. I only have one additional condition."
Steven raised a finger in front of the white-haired girl, who was already so overwhelmed with gratitude that she looked like she might hug him at any moment.
"Say it. No, even if it's more than one condition, I can agree to all of them on my father's behalf."
Yelena nodded eagerly. She knew Steven was the type who never went back on his word. If he had already agreed, that meant he wouldn't change his mind. More importantly, it meant that her comrades, who were suffering from Oripathy, now had a real chance at survival.
"Tell Patriot—he must not distribute this medicine to anyone else. It can only be used to treat the infected. If I ever find out that my medicine has appeared anywhere it shouldn't, our entire deal is off."
Steven spoke with utmost seriousness, deliberately mentioning Patriot's name. There was no way that ancient Wendigo wouldn't understand the significance of this medicine's existence. He was undoubtedly well aware of the implications.
Steven wasn't worried about the medicine being reverse-engineered, but he also didn't want it falling into the wrong hands.
Fortunately, almost no one knew that his medicine could completely cure Oripathy. There were already some medications in this world that could suppress the disease's progression, but they were simply exorbitantly expensive.
"I will pass these words on to my father."
Nodding solemnly, Yelena gazed at Steven with deep gratitude in her eyes—but also with a look that carried an emotion even she couldn't quite put into words.
Steven didn't really need to say all those things to her earlier. All that talk about speaking purely as trading partners and keeping emotions out of it—it was, in truth, unnecessary.
He could have simply treated it as him helping her out after she pleaded with him, or even as an act of pity. If he had framed it that way, then she would have owed him an immense personal debt—one she might never be able to repay.
Of course, just the act of curing her was already something she could hardly ever fully repay. But at least by handling it this way, she could still see Steven as a friend, instead of constantly being burdened by the thought of how to repay him.
Just as Steven had said, the moment that dynamic changed, their relationship would no longer be the same.
"Then… may I at least thank you as an individual, Steve?"
Flashing him a radiant smile, Yelena stepped closer, locking eyes with him as she spoke with sincerity.
"No."
Steven flatly cut her off, leaving her frozen in place, utterly confused as to why he had suddenly rejected her.
"Huh?"
"Because the five minutes aren't up yet. We're still officially 'not friends,' Miss Yelena."
Seeing her stunned expression, Steven finally covered his mouth, struggling to suppress a grin as he revealed the reason.
Yelena's brain stalled for a good few seconds before she finally realized—this guy was deliberately making her look like a fool!
Flustered and annoyed, she clenched her fists and gave him a light punch on the arm, glaring at him with embarrassment and frustration.
Even in a moment like this, he just had to mess with her?!
But Steven effortlessly dodged her little punch with a casual turn of his body. As he did so, he rubbed his fingers together, making an exaggerated, thoughtful expression.
"Speaking of which, if you really feel bad about me not making enough money, how about letting me rub your bunny ears? I still haven't found anything else quite like them. Rubbing them really helps me relax."
"In your dreams!"
Yelena shot him a fierce glare, but despite her annoyed words, her face was lit up with a brilliant smile—one that not even Patriot had often seen from her.
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After what felt like half a day of playful banter between friends, it was finally time for Yelena to return to the guerrilla camp.
There wasn't really any sense of reluctance about their parting—after all, even Steven himself had said that he'd be visiting the guerrillas soon. They'd have plenty of time to see each other.
"Tomorrow, the guerrillas might have an operation. If you don't find me at the camp, just wait for me to come back. And remember what I said—don't sneak in. I know you're good at it, but don't make my old man suffer over it, alright?"
After giving Steven this warning, Yelena turned and walked back toward the guerrilla camp. Judging by the lightness of her steps, it was clear that she was in an excellent mood.
Steven, on the other hand, watched her fading figure, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
The guerrillas have an operation tomorrow, huh?
That means something interesting is bound to happen.
Looks like I have to go check it out now.
As he finalized his plans for the next day, Steven smiled, packed up his things, and made his way back toward the village.
The guerrilla matters were mostly settled for now, and Talulah had probably come around to things a little, right?
If she was still stuck in her thoughts, it would be a headache for Steven. After all, that would mean no one was around to help him figure out a reasonable trade price. If he had to calculate all that himself, it'd be a real hassle.
As for asking Alina to help him? Steven couldn't bring himself to do that. She was such a kind girl—wasn't it better for her to just rest? This was exactly the kind of thing that should be left to Talulah, that smart but oddly fixated woman.
With that thought in mind, Steven soon arrived back in the village.
A whole day had passed, yet this remote mountain village remained completely unchanged. It didn't take long before he reached Alina's house and knocked on the door once again.
"Come in."
Talulah's voice, now full of energy, called out from inside. She didn't even bother checking who it was—at this hour, there was no one else who would come knocking except for Steven.
"Tsk, tsk, judging by your tone, it seems our dear Commissar Alina has successfully done some ideological work on you?"
Steven swung the door open and swaggered inside, immediately spotting two girls sitting at the table, nibbling on bread while drinking plain water.
The bread was from him, of course. Naturally, it was much easier to swallow than the kind mixed with sawdust and other nasty fillers.
Honestly, by Ursus standards, this meal was already considered pretty good. But no matter how he looked at it, Steven couldn't help but feel bad for them.
Talulah was strong and sturdy, so just eating some bread wasn't too big of a deal. But Alina? A frail girl in the middle of her growth years? How could she survive on just this?
Especially since she was already seventeen or eighteen, yet still as flat as a child.
She needs proper nutrition!
Without hesitation, Steven pushed their bread to the side, sat himself down in the middle, and ignored the look of disdain Talulah shot his way.
"What do you mean by 'ideological work'? I was just confused, that's all. It's not like I'm some kid who throws a tantrum when I can't figure things out."
"—And what do you think you're doing? That's our dinner."
Talulah shot him a slightly resentful glance. In her mind, the one responsible for her confusion in the first place was him, and now he had the nerve to mock her about it?
"Sigh, how could I let you two just eat something like this? It's got no nutrition. If we're eating, we might as well eat something good."
Steven pulled a potion-brewing pot from his backpack, lit a campfire beneath it, and poured in a bucket of water.
In no time, the water began to boil. He then tossed in some well-prepared beef, lamb, and mushrooms, instantly filling the room with a mouthwatering aroma.
"In my hometown, there's a saying: 'There's nothing a good hot pot can't solve. And if there is—just have another one.'"
Casually throwing in some extra ingredients, Steven then sneakily waved a carrot in front of Talulah and Alina's faces, teasing them with the fresh produce.
"Now, isn't this way better than that dry old bread?"
As he added more vegetables into the pot, he made sure to show each of them off to the two girls, though he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed as he noticed that nothing happened.
It made sense, though. In vanilla, there was no way to raise dragons or deer.
—Unless, of course, he installed some kind of mod.
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