Chapter 359: The One Who Understands
"The way you look at things… it's actually kind of refreshing."
Surtr blinked, then gave a smile she herself couldn't quite describe.
To be honest, she'd never once considered Steven's perspective before.
Those memories she couldn't tell apart—truth or illusion, hers or someone else's—she had always found them nothing but troublesome. Yet in someone else's eyes, could they really be… fascinating?
For the first time, she thought back on her own rambling stories. Then, almost despite herself, she let out a small laugh.
Compared to the novels sold in bookshops, didn't her "memories" sound stranger… and far more legendary?
"Yeah. The real point is whether these experiences help you, or hurt you. Whether they'll cause you trouble going forward—that's what matters, right? If they're just… there? Then come on, that's cool as hell."
Steven shot her a thumbs-up, grinning.
Her so-called "memories" included things even he hadn't yet experienced. Perfect additions to his own bucket list.
As for how Surtr herself felt about them… well, that wasn't something he could decide. That was her business alone. He was an outsider—at most, all he could do was listen.
Still, as someone who had endured all sorts of modded nightmares, he could at least empathize a little.
His own memories were piled up in his consciousness too, a clutter that—without some kind of system to organize them—could definitely become a burden.
Of course, unlike him, she didn't have centuries of downtime to slowly sort through them, laying each piece of memory neatly outside her mind like a fortress wall.
"'Cool as hell,' huh? That's really the word you're going with…?" Surtr gave an exasperated sigh, but soon her lips curved into a more genuine smile. "Well… I guess you're right. Legendary enough that even I feel like I'm bragging when I say it out loud."
She exhaled, then straightened, as if a weight had finally lifted.
Her mood had lightened, brightened—as though opening up had let some of the shadows spill away.
It was true, wasn't it?
Sharing one's troubles with a friend could be surprisingly fun—and relieving, too.
Maybe the hollow feeling she'd carried through her journey, that sense that something was missing… maybe today, she'd found the answer.
"Well then, I've had my turn. Now it should be yours, shouldn't it? You call yourself a traveler too, so what kind of tales do you have? I'm curious."
The ice cream was nearly gone, but the liquor had flowed steadily with it. By now, Surtr's cheeks glowed with a rosy flush that hinted at more than just the firelight. Even so, she clutched her bottle stubbornly, nudging Steven's shoulder with a teasing push.
Clearly, she wasn't letting him off without sharing.
"Me, huh? If I start talking, my stories might be even more… abundant than yours. So abundant, in fact, I don't even know where I'd begin."
Steven chuckled, handing her the half-finished sunflower head as he rose to his feet. His brows arched as though a realization had finally clicked into place.
"I think… I get it now. The way you felt earlier. The reason those memories weigh on you."
There was simply too much to say. So much that Steven had no idea where to even begin.
In more ways than one, he really did share quite a few similarities with her.
"Then just pick something at random," Surtr pressed, her words starting to slur ever so slightly as the alcohol worked its way through her. "Like… where did you go after flying that aircraft? What happened along the way? Or even—how did you end up fighting that thing? Any of those would make a good story, wouldn't they?"
Having finished her ice cream, she had now crossed her legs the way Steven had earlier, cracking open sunflower seeds with a rather serious expression.
The gesture left most of her pale, slender thighs exposed to the firelight, yet she showed not the slightest trace of embarrassment.
"Well now… that could get interesting."
Steven chuckled, scratching his head, before giving it a shot—summarizing, in his own way, the things he had experienced since arriving in this world.
"I once fought side by side with the Abyssal Hunters of Ægir… and then later, took on their entire group alone—held all three of them down single-handedly."
"I also saw the impoverished villagers of Iberia, broken by the Profound Silence. People who traded away their kin—sacrificed or even betrayed their own kind—just for a scrap of food."
"And that Kazimierz you mentioned? I just came back from there. Ended up ruining one of their centuries-old tournaments, actually. Looking back, I have to admit—I handled it way too rashly. Even I'm not satisfied with how it turned out."
His tone was calm, almost like he was grading his own report card, casually evaluating his past actions. Yet when he got to Kazimierz, a faint trace of regret slipped into his voice.
"…But, well, what's done is done. Besides—don't forget, I'm also the reigning champion of Rhodes Island's Annual Super Swivel Chair Racing Championship. An elite operator—at least in name. Grannies friend, the Riddler's bane, Ms. Blood's accomplice, the muscled-croc girl's conqueror… and, most importantly, Rhodes Island's most reliable supplier."
He rattled off the nicknames like a restaurant waiter reciting dishes from the menu, laughing halfway through his own list.
Only then did it hit him—he, too, had already made so many memories in this world. So many titles, so many absurd little marks left behind. Somehow, it really was… kind of fun.
"Just listening to you, I can already tell—you've lived a much more exciting life than me."
Surtr's eyes softened as she looked at him.
She hadn't expected his experiences to be this rich, this colorful.
She couldn't tell if he was exaggerating or not, but honestly—it didn't matter.
Because as he spoke, Steven's face carried a smile. And wasn't that enough?
Just as he himself had said—if recalling those memories brought joy and amusement, then why should the question of truth or falsehood even matter?
The past was the past. It couldn't change the future. Rather than agonize over it, wasn't it better to focus on the present—on creating new memories worth smiling over tomorrow?
"Haha! As long as you don't think I'm just bragging, that's good enough. See? I'm no less of a traveler than you. I can't afford to lose to you in this, after all."
Steven laughed heartily, raising another bottle of liquor on a whim and draining half of it in one go.
Honestly, what could be better than swapping stories like this with someone who felt like a kindred spirit? Everything he'd been through, everything he'd seen—wasn't it all for moments like this?
Surtr, watching his smug, self-satisfied grin—as if he'd just scored some great victory—couldn't help but raise her own bottle and clink it against his again.
"I'll never understand that weird competitive streak of yours… Fine, fine, let's just say you win."
Shaking her head with a helpless smile, she suddenly remembered something. The root she'd set by the fire at the start—something like a sweet potato—had long since finished roasting, filling the air with a faintly sweet, starchy aroma.
She set down her bottle and picked up the stick, blowing on the steaming root until it cooled a little. Then she snapped it cleanly in half and handed one piece to Steven.
"The most popular food in the slums of Ursus. They call it a 'bitter yam.' It's nothing compared to your fancy snacks, but… it's the only thing I have to share. Want to try it?"
The so-called bitter yam looked rough and blackened on the outside. Her roasting skills were clearly lacking, and with a name like that, it was hard to imagine it tasting good. The smell carried not just roasted starch, but also a hint of char.
Even so, Steven accepted it with an eager grin. He blew on it, then bit off a piece that hadn't burnt through.
At first, bitterness flooded his mouth—sharp and unpleasant. But after a moment came the sweetness unique to starch, followed by the smoky fragrance of the fire.
No, it couldn't be called delicious. But it was filling, and filling meant survival. To the poor, that was more precious—and more satisfying—than flavor.
"Well? Not great, right? Doesn't it feel unworthy of that bottle of wine of yours? But this really is the only thing I have to offer. Don't underestimate it, though—I worked hard to find something that could actually fill my stomach."
Surtr laughed at his expression.
Of course she knew how it tasted. But, as she said, this was all she had to share. And for Steven, that was enough.
Maybe it was because they really did have so many things in common, but she found herself understanding him far better than she expected. It was probably why she'd even thought to share something like this with him at all.
Perhaps… in some sense… they could be called each other's "understander."
<+>
Note:
Grannies friend: The Grannies are the old Elite Operator in Rhodes Island
The Riddler's bane: The Riddler is Kal'tsit
Ms. Blood's accomplice: Ms. Blood is Warfarin
The muscled-croc girl: This one is Gavial
<+>
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
<+>
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Ko-Fi[1]
Latest Chapter in Ko-Fi: Chapter 393: The Street Rascals' Resonance[2]
Link to the latest chapter: https://ko-fi.com/post/Arknightcraft-Modpack-393-M4M21O811E[3]
https://ko-fi.com/stevetheminecrafter[4]
[1] https://ko-fi.com/stevetheminecrafter
[2] https://ko-fi.com/post/Arknightcraft-Modpack-393-M4M21O811E
[3] https://ko-fi.com/post/Arknightcraft-Modpack-393-M4M21O811E
[4] https://ko-fi.com/stevetheminecrafter