Water (1)

Did I underestimate the wild, or had I simply been hopelessly optimistic?

The moment I saw the ticks writhing between the teeth of the comb, reality hit me like a splash of ice water. When it came to hygiene alone, nature was far more treacherous than I had ever imagined.

If I wanted to maintain even a semblance of basic sanitary standards, securing a substantial supply of water was non-negotiable.

Does water hold some kind of personal vendetta against me?

Regardless, giving Wonmo a thorough wash came first. While I was at it, I might as well take a bath myself. Thank goodness I had kept my clothes on; otherwise, those bloodsuckers would have bitten me raw.

Before doing anything else, I decided to thank Praise the Sun and ask for his thoughts.

Praise the Sun explained that an owlbear's hide was far too thick for ticks to do any real damage. The real issue was that I, with my fragile human skin, was sleeping right beside him.

I stripped off my clothes, gave them a vigorous shake outside, and rubbed the insect repellent thoroughly across every inch of my body. Fortunately, none of the pests had latched onto my flesh yet.

I need to start wearing long pants.

The athletic uniform Princess Chaeng-gu gave me only covered my upper body with long sleeves. For the time being, I had no choice but to rely on the repellent to keep the lower half safe.

No wonder people bundle up completely in survival documentaries.

Thanks to this little scare, the value of proper clothing sank in deep. Long sleeves and full-length pants were an absolute necessity in the wild. Once I finished applying the salve to every corner of my skin, I turned my gaze toward Wonmo. Oblivious to everything that had just unfolded, the cub snoozed peacefully.

Yeah, it's not like you did it on purpose.

I changed into fresh clothes and pondered my options. Water had become far more urgent than before, yet having that golden frog squatting proudly right by the bank made gathering it a massive headache. Still, since the stream was the closest water source by far, giving up on it felt like a waste.

Should I just dig a canal? The distance isn't that far.

It wasn't a terrible idea; it would just be grueling manual labor. As I noted, the stream was reasonably close to my shelter, so the excavation itself wouldn't be an impossible task. But seeing as I didn't know the first thing about civil engineering, I needed some expert advice.

He really needed to learn when to tone down the jokes. I found myself wondering just how old this guy actually was. Considering his encyclopedic craft knowledge, he couldn't be young, yet he acted like an overgrown brat half the time.

Erosion was that natural process where rock wore away under environmental forces, right? Soft earth would erode a thousand times faster than solid stone without proper masonry reinforcement. But above all, the thought of the water turning into undrinkable mud weighed on my mind.

It wasn't as if hauling water hadn't crossed my mind. But on top of the sheer unpredictability of what lurked along the path, scooping water was a death-defying feat in its own right. The moment I dipped a hand into the shallows, golden frogs would swarm like piranhas.

I had hands and a brain like anyone else, but this was an unforgiving wilderness. A single lapse in judgment could end my life on the spot, so I had to prioritize safety above all else.

Since the dwarf promised to post a full guide, all I could do was wait patiently. Still, worry gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. If he had to write an entire thread just to explain it, the setup had to be fairly complex.

Would I truly be able to establish a stable water pipeline? It seemed water was always the hurdle tripping me up at every turn.

"Huh?"

I had been idling through the forum boards when my eyes popped wide open at the sudden prompt.

It was Starlight Princess—a prominent Fixed Nick who had gone completely silent for a while. I had been terrified that something terrible had happened to her, but seeing her trade ping washed away all that tension in an instant.

A burst of radiant energy practically leaped through the screen. On the Gallery, handles were permanently bound upon registration; you could never alter them once set. That meant the person requesting this trade was undeniably Starlight Princess herself.

A bright smile broke across my face as I drafted a reply.

Hearing that she was completely healed lifted a massive stone off my chest. I had spent countless moments fretting that she might have succumbed to her illness. But those worries were behind us now; she had conquered an incurable malady.

I could easily deduce what had happened. Having finally reclaimed the health she had yearned for all her life, she and her family naturally wanted every single physician to examine her from head to toe. Even so, the fact that she returned within a single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day proved beyond doubt that her recovery was absolute.

I tilted my head in mild amusement at being labeled 'benevolent.' Lately, I seemed to be hearing that quite a bit. Given the prevailing toxic culture of this interdimensional forum, perhaps it was true in relative terms.

Though I'm not so sure.

Maybe it just meant the worlds beyond were complete, unadulterated cesspools. Given the historical eras many users hailed from, basic human rights were likely trampled underfoot and devoured without a second thought. Combine that with the anonymous malice typical of internet message boards, and one hardly needed to explain further.

I was only teasing, of course. Who in their right mind would invite someone who was on death's door just yesterday to come throw their life away? I had heard countless times that no one who stepped into the Forest of the Four Seasons ever walked back out alive. It was better for my peace of mind to treat her promise as warm words of comfort rather than an actual promise.

The response slipped out on pure instinct. It wasn't because I was a doting parent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blinded by affection or anything—he really was that charming.

Starlight Princess paused briefly before revealing her brilliant suggestion.

Oh boy...

That sounded like a creature destined to evolve straight into a meathead gym bro down the line. How on earth did every single Fixed Nick in this place possess such a catastrophic naming sense? No matter how I looked at it, my original idea—Fluffy—was by far the classiest of the bunch.

She was a patron who had consistently saved my neck; ignoring a moniker bestowed directly by the Heavenly Demon would be suicidal. If she took offense and cut ties with me, the loss would be mine alone.

Starlight Princess seemed to understand that reality as well. While she voiced her displeasure, she conceded the point.

Our exchange drew to a close there. A wave of bittersweet warmth settled in my chest. While her complete recovery filled me with joy, my own reality remained stagnant. Unless I broke free from this living hell, living a peaceful, normal life was a pipe dream.

Escape... will I really ever make it out?

It was a question that haunted me every waking day. If terrifying beasts and toxic plants were the only hurdles, perhaps I could carve a way through with sheer grit. But the true horror of this forest was its ceaseless spatial warping. Getting lost in an ordinary wilderness was dangerous enough; here, the very fabric of space rearranged itself at whim, rendering long-distance navigation utterly hopeless.

Wait, the Elixirs... whoa. She gave me seven of them?

Seven gleaming vials rested within the trade receipt. Judging by the varying color gradients of the liquid, they represented different tiers of efficacy. I had heard that paler hues denoted lower grades, making sorting them straightforward.

Wonmo might accidentally smash these to pieces if he gets his paws on them. I'd better hide them well.

I placed the precious draughts into the wooden crate the dwarf had sent earlier, shoving the box deep into the most secluded corner of the cave where the cub couldn't easily sniff it out.

Speaking of which, did the dwarf put up that post yet?

I refreshed the Gallery board a few times, and sure enough, his new thread appeared near the top.

Rubber is that expensive? I wondered at first, though the reason quickly dawned on me. From what I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had gathered reading posts across the forum, the outside world had only just begun establishing industrial factories. There were rumors of locomotives powered by pure mana crystals, though they were far from common transport.

I recall someone saying the wealthy just use Warp Gates to travel.

Fitting for a high-fantasy setting, in a peculiar way. Mass sports like football and baseball had developed rapidly, yet heavy manufacturing lagged noticeably behind. Magic stepped in to bridge the technological gap, so the imbalance wasn't glaring on the surface. But since Warp Gates commanded exorbitant fees, commoners relied on steam and mana locomotives to cross large distances.

Princess Chaeng-gu's jersey was outrageously expensive, too.

Given the cutting-edge enchantment woven into the synthetic fabric, astronomical pricing made sense. Having absorbed the dwarf's technical explanations, I pressed for the detail that mattered most.

Five hundred gold was a steep sum by any standard. Even so, I still had a substantial reserve left over from Allfather's massive bounty. The real obstacle emerged from a completely different direction: the core rules of the Gallery itself.

Once two users completed a direct transaction, a mandatory twenty-four-hour cooldown locked their peer-to-peer trade window. Passing Dwarf and I had completed our exchange yesterday afternoon, meaning direct trading was currently locked out.

Watching my coin count bleed stung, but I had no choice. Water was an existential priority right now; this wasn't the time to pinch pennies. I might haggle over barricades or boundary fences, but clean, running water was non-negotiable.

I accessed the Gallery's Auction House tab and immediately located the lot the dwarf had just posted.

"This little bastard..."

Just you wait until next time.

I let out a dry, incredulous chuckle and clicked the buyout button without hesitation. There was always a minuscule chance a random user might snipe it, but with such an exorbitant price tag on mundane hoses, no one in their right mind would buy it on accident. And even if someone somehow snatched it, the dwarf could easily forge another set and relist it.

"All right, preparations are finished..."

Time to secure my water supply.

I buckled my sword belt and strapped on the golden shield just in case danger struck. Slashing through the brush while weighed down wasn't ideal, but caution came first. I draped the thick, coiled rubber hoses across my shoulder. All that remained was the labor itself.

The second I get this water flowing, I'm scrubbing Wonmo clean.

I glanced back at the cub, who was still dead to the world in deep slumber. What if he woke up while I was away? What if he crawled out of the cave entrance in a panic trying to find me? In this forest, that would spell instant death.

I need to wrap this up as fast as humanly possible.

It was time to put my craftsmanship and survival grit to the test.