Arya: "Yes."
Rogers: "Could you sell me a few?"
Arya: "You can. Take them and use them."
Enamel mugs?
Arya turned her head and looked at the enamel mugs and stone slabs that had been cleaned and neatly stacked in the corner of the room. After a short pause, she walked over, grabbed more than twenty mugs, and tossed them toward Rogers.
The nightmare of cleaning tools earlier that day had made her realize one simple truth: owning too many things was not always a blessing. It was better to keep only what she actually needed. A reserve of around a hundred items was enough for daily practice and emergencies.
Rogers: "Thank you, Boss. Thank you! Wait for me a moment."
Inside a stilted wooden house built against the mountain in a remote corner of the Abandoned Forest, Rogers held the enamel mug she had just received from Arya and examined it carefully.
There were faint water stains inside. It had clearly been cleaned recently.
However, at this stage, the only usable water source was creek water. For safety, Rogers preferred to be extra cautious. She stood up, walked to the hearth in the wooden house, lifted the kettle hanging over the fire, and poured hot water into the enamel mug to rinse it again.
Next, she moved to the stove, opened a half-human-height steamer, and—using a cloth wrapped around her hand—took out a wooden bowl from inside. She carried it to the small trading screen.
Crack.
The wooden bowl split cleanly into two pieces as soon as she touched it.
"Just as I thought," Rogers muttered. "Wooden bowls really can't handle steaming."
She then carried the enamel mug closer to the small screen and transferred the contents through the trading interface.
Although Arya had told her to just take the mugs and use them, Rogers couldn't bring herself to freeload. She was an adult. She couldn't accept kindness without giving something back.
Less than a minute later, Arya received the enamel mug filled with food.
Rogers: "Boss, I made this. It's still hot, so eat slowly."
Arya looked at Rogers's message, then turned her gaze to the enamel mug brimming with steaming noodles. She froze for a moment.
Caution came first.
She activated the small screen and used its identification function.
[Silverfish Potato Noodles (E-)]
[Effect: Recovers 1 point of Magic Power per second, lasting for 10 minutes.]
[Description: A delicacy made with broth boiled from silverfish, kuxing grass, and huangwei flower, paired with fish slices, potato noodles, yellow flower grass, green jade sprouts, salt, Sichuan pepper powder, pepper powder, and various seasonings. Although the technique is crude, the flavor is rich, savory, and highly satisfying.]
"This…"
Arya's eyes widened.
"Isn't that… six hundred points of Magic Power?!"
At one point per second for ten full minutes, that was an outrageous recovery effect. It was like multiplying natural recovery speed by sixty times.
Arya: "What exactly is this dish?"
Rogers: "My family runs a restaurant. When I saw that Boss could make potions herself, I wanted to try cooking something special."
Rogers: "I originally planned to make Crossing-the-Bridge Noodles, but I didn't have rice noodles. I used potato noodles instead, and this is how it turned out."
Arya stared at the message.
She didn't know what to say at first. After a long pause, she typed slowly.
Arya: "I hereby name you a sweet genius."
Rogers: "Hehe. Then, Boss, enjoy your meal. I made several bowls. Once I free up the mugs and sell them, I should be able to upgrade my Shelter to Level 2."
Arya: "You wanted the enamel mugs just to hold food?"
Rogers: "Yes. The wooden bowls I get aren't durable."
Arya thought for a moment, tapping her chin.
Arya: "I know a good stonemason. You might be able to ask her to make stone bowls for you."
Rogers: "Really?!"
Arya: "Yes. Her name is Natasha. Search for her name. If you say I introduced you, she should accept the friend request."
Rogers: "Okay, okay! Thank you, Boss!"
After sending the message, Rogers immediately went to contact Natasha.
Meanwhile, Arya looked at the steaming mug of potato noodles in front of her and fell into a new dilemma.
She wanted to eat.
But she had no chopsticks.
She looked toward the stacked supply chests in the corner of the room and sighed.
There was no choice.
She stood up, opened a self-heating pot, and took out the disposable chopsticks that came with it.
Let's rewind time slightly.
As night approached, a woman wearing a perfectly tailored Armani suit and shiny leather shoes stepped back into her Shelter, carrying two rabbits in one hand and two supply chests balanced on her shoulder.
She looked to be around thirty years old. Her hair was neatly slicked back, and every movement she made was clean, precise, and confident.
This was Natasha.
She was in an excellent mood.
During a trade earlier that morning, she had acquired nearly fifty Magic Potions from Arya. Thanks to them, her hunting session had been incredibly smooth. No more frustrating stop-and-go casting. No more waiting helplessly for Magic Power to recover.
She had also picked up a dagger that some unlucky idiot had dropped while trying—and failing—to rob her.
Now, she used that dagger to skillfully prepare the two rabbits and roast them over a fire.
Although supply chests could yield food and water, Natasha preferred to save that emergency stock. Long-lasting rations were for desperate situations.
Once the rabbit meat was fully roasted, she sat at her desk, opened a packet of instant noodle seasoning, and sprinkled it generously over the meat.
Eating while watching the global chat channel had become a daily habit.
It wasn't just her. Almost all Transmigrators did this now. No matter how strong or independent someone was, humans were social creatures by nature. Even lone wolves needed information.
And that was when she saw the discussion about potions.
"+30 recovery, huh?" she muttered. "Not huge, but the quantity makes up for it."
She didn't hesitate.
She immediately bought one hundred doses.
Yes, three thousand basic resources hurt a little, but not enough to make her regret it. The feeling of overflowing Magic Power was simply too good.
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
A friend request notification appeared.
Natasha frowned.
She didn't recognize the username.
But the message attached read: "Introduced by Arya."
That changed everything.
She accepted the request.
A message arrived almost immediately.
Rogers: "Excuse me, are you a stonemason? I'd like to order some stone bowls."
Natasha: …
Her temple twitched.
"Stonemason?"
"When did I become a stonemason?"
Then she remembered.
Earlier that day, she had made several stone slabs for Arya.
Did that woman seriously think she was a stonemason now?
She, Natasha, owner of an S-rank Talent: Storm King.
A stonemason?
This was an insult.
A provocation.
She was just about to unleash a properly terrifying response when another message arrived.
Rogers: "[Silverfish Potato Noodles (E-)]"
Natasha froze.
Her anger drained away like water flowing out of a cracked cup.
She swallowed silently.
The only thought in her mind was simple.
"That smells amazing."
Natasha: "What are your requirements?"
Rogers: "I need stone bowls in two sizes: ten centimeters and twenty centimeters. I need one hundred of each. What's the price?"
Natasha: "May I boldly ask how you obtained this food?"
Rogers: "I figured out how to make it myself."
Very good.
A technical Talent.
Just like Arya.
Natasha's mind began calculating at lightning speed.
Natasha: "How about this? I will make the stone bowls for you—any quantity you need now or in the future. I will also give you meat every day."
There was a short pause before her next message appeared.
Natasha: "In exchange, you will provide me with ten servings of this Magic Power-boosting food every day."
And in her heart, Natasha added silently:
"I, Natasha, am absolutely not a stonemason… but I will carve stone for noodles."