When Holls stepped back into the guild, the first thing he saw was Steve, blocky as ever, registering his quest. The dwarf rubbed his chest absently, muttering under his breath.
"So you're an adventurer here, huh? Funny, never seen you around before."
He squinted at the parchment. "Wait—'Steve' is that your name, or your puppet's name?"
Lilith was busy verifying the adventurer token. The guild's special enchantment confirmed the information and, with a shimmer of light, Steve's photo appeared on the page—two inches, full color, face dead center.
The sight of a golem with an official adventurer portrait made her blink. Strictly speaking, constructs weren't supposed to become adventurers. But the seal of approval was genuine, and she had no patience for digging through the mountain of records in the backroom.
"Not my problem," she decided silently. "If it's an error, it's someone else's fault."
She returned the token politely. "Everything's in order, sir. Please complete your quest and bring back the requester's proof to collect your reward."
Steve didn't respond. Instead, he just bent forward slightly and began waving his right hand repeatedly, making small, jerky motions like he was clicking invisible buttons.
Lilith felt uncomfortable watching it. "O… okay," she muttered, gingerly placing the document on the counter and sliding it toward him.
Only then did Steve pick it up.
Holls, curious, placed one of his precious iron ingots on the counter. "So… you don't like people handing you things, huh?"
Steve immediately swiped the ingot into his inventory.
"Hey!" Holls yelped. "That was yours! I just gave it back! Why'd you take it again?!"
But the cube-headed adventurer didn't even glance his way—he was already hopping his way out the guild doors.
"Unbelievable!" Holls grumbled, grabbing his beard and rushing after him, leaving Lilith with her mouth half-open.
She could only sigh and turn to Elena and the others, who were still chatting nearby.
"I was right," Elena said, holding up the bunny-girl outfit in her arms. "Every time we feel that binding force, it means that lord is giving us something."
"You noticed too, right? He gave her gemstones—and this outfit."
Jack nodded thoughtfully. Lilith touched one of the emeralds Steve had somehow "gifted" her, its smooth surface catching the light.
Was this… for me? she wondered.
...
Following the faint dotted trail beneath his feet, Steve soon located the Slitherscale Serpents.
Unlike most mobs he knew, their bodies weren't blocky—they were sleek, scaled, and unnervingly realistic. They were large, but thankfully lacked any ranged attacks.
With his new shield in hand, Steve dealt with them easily.
Holls, tagging behind, noticed glowing items floating above the corpses—fangs and scales spinning slowly in midair. He reached for them, but his fingers passed right through. Only when Steve walked by did they shoot toward his body and vanish.
Another mystery. Another piece of impossible power.
When Steve turned to leave, Holls called out, "You're not taking these materials?!"
No answer. The golem simply walked away.
So the dwarf bent down and began gathering them himself, grumbling, "Guess I'm the sidekick now."
By the time he returned to the village, Steve was already surrounded by terrified villagers wielding pitchforks and hoes. Holls hurried to calm them down, explaining what had happened. Once things settled, the village chief handed over a stamped proof of completion.
"Here. Got your proof," Holls said, holding it up. "And I'll take these materials as my reward."
He hesitated, then set the document on the ground. Sure enough, Steve plucked it from existence without touching it.
Holls' eye twitched. "You really hate physical contact, huh?"
...
Back at the guild, Steve handed in the proof. A small chest materialized in his inventory.
[Bronze Quest Reward Chest]
He crouched down, opened it, and the contents neatly popped out: ten iron ingots, fifteen copper ingots, some wood, and a saddle.
Not bad—but not great either. Probably just low-tier rewards. Maybe once his rank increased, he'd start seeing diamond drops.
After checking a few recipes in JEI, he traded the serpent fangs and scales with Lilith for four emeralds, then turned to leave.
Lilith's trade menu now showed a red "X" overlay—a trade cooldown timer. The first one he'd seen so far.
Meanwhile, Lilith herself looked increasingly dazed. She understood now that the paralysis Steve caused wasn't hostile—it was how he "gave" gifts. But still, the idea that even these monster materials might be meant for her made her cheeks warm.
It was a very confusing feeling.
...
When Steve returned to his village, he decided it was time for population expansion.
Every villager he'd met so far already had a fixed profession. A neat system, sure—but deeply inconvenient.
He needed librarians for future enchantment trading. But with these "pre-assigned" villagers, he couldn't reset professions—no job blocks, no job control.
So he'd have to start from scratch. New villagers. Fresh AI.
He got to work immediately.
Using cobblestone slabs, he built a staircase up to a raised platform near the village gate. There, he placed several beds—confiscated from nearby homes.
He'd wanted to craft new ones from wool or string, but there were no sheep in the area, and the town tailor wanted an absurd number of emeralds for thread. So, demolition it was.
Next, he built a small water-based filtering chamber to separate baby villagers from adults, using trapdoors and buckets.
He ferried two random villagers over by boat, blocked the area around them, and broke the boat.
To prevent trouble, he built a roof and lit the inside with torches.
Then he went to his newly renovated farm—the one he'd reworked overnight. Rows of wheat shimmered under the sun, growing fast despite the stretched twenty-four-hour days.
After harvesting, he crafted a full stack of bread—three rows per craft—and tossed them all to the couple.
If this world followed the same mechanics as the one he knew, that should do it. But in this strange new realm, he'd just have to wait and see.
...
Rose and Jack watched from a distance, baffled.
"What do you think the lord's doing?" the old seamstress whispered.
"How would I know?" Jack muttered. He was just eighteen—a small-town boy with big dreams, utterly unprepared for divine-level cube logic.
Rose scowled. "Didn't you go to town? Didn't they tell you anything?"
"They don't know either," he sighed. "But yeah—it's true. That lord really is some kind of magical construct."
Before they could say more, Steve suddenly came marching back, tossing a few floating items toward them.
The glowing shapes hovered midair, spinning gently—it looked like bread, golden-brown with a soft sheen.
"What's that?" Jack reached out, curious.
The moment his fingers brushed the glow, the air erupted.
Bread exploded outwards—dozens of loaves bursting into existence, pelting him in the face.
He yelped and fell backward, arms flailing as he was buried waist-deep in warm, fragrant loaves.
Rose just stared, slack-jawed.
Jack sat up slowly, dazed, a chunk of bread sliding off his head.
The smell of wheat filled the air.
And somewhere behind him, the square-headed figure of Steve was already walking away—completely, utterly unfazed.