After a short rest and dinner, Valentina's condition had stabilized, though she showed no signs of waking up yet.
The sky outside grew dark, the setting sun like blood. While the women were doing their pre-sleep cleaning, Chuck returned to the furnace.
The light orb inside the furnace had vanished.
[Cast Iron Pickhead x1: Synthesis Complete!]
The scorching hot iron pickhead returned to the workbench as a glowing orb. Its shape was more slender than the bronze pickaxe, with sharp, clean-cut edges that gleamed with a steady, dark silver luster in the light.
Chuck felt a surge of tension as he combined the pre-prepared hardwood handle with the iron head, just as he had done with the bronze tools.
A brand-new iron pickaxe was now in Chuck's hands.
With the new tool in his possession, Chuck felt an inexplicable rush of excitement. He looked around and quickly strode over to the large pile of quartz sandstone stacked outside the cave.
These quartz stones were incredibly hard and had cost him a great deal of effort to mine with bronze; now that his tools had upgraded, Chuck's first thought was naturally to test the strength of this new iron.
After all, his original reason for forging iron was to cut stone bricks more efficiently.
Excitedly, he raised the iron pickaxe and brought it down hard on a large piece of quartz sandstone...
CLANG!
A sharp crack sounded, and the quartz sandstone split as expected.
The problem was, the iron pickhead—which had been gleaming so menacingly just a second ago—had snapped clean off and gone flying into the distance!
"What the fuck..."
The unexpected recoil made Chuck's wrist ache, and he slowly picked up the now-useless, headless handle of the "small-fry" iron pickaxe, his eyes going wide.
What the hell...
Was this some kind of joke?
What went wrong?
Chuck's brow furrowed, a familiar sense of irritation rising in his chest.
When he first entered the Bronze Age, he had gone down a similar dead-end. Pickheads made of pure copper were too soft; only after adding tin to create a bronze alloy did they become truly sturdy tools.
And now, the "pig iron" forged directly from iron ore had a different flaw than pure copper. While its hardness was sufficient, its plasticity seemed to be nonexistent, so much so that Chuck had hit it once and the damn thing had just shattered...
Drawing a parallel to his previous experience, the correct way shouldn't be smelting iron ore directly, but combining iron with other materials to create a much stronger alloy.
To put it more bluntly.
Steelmaking?
Chuck's heart skipped a beat.
Smelting iron and making steel were only different by one word, but even a layman like him understood how vast the difference in difficulty was.
This was absolutely not a matter of simply raising the temperature further; it involved a series of complex procedures...
Without a doubt, this was one of the most difficult and critical hurdles of human civilization. Even today, steel remains the most widely used alloy in human society.
With his current self... could he do it?
The glow of the furnace slowly faded, and Chuck's fists clenched.
It wasn't a question of if he could, but that he must.
He was at the point where he needed high-strength tools; if he backed down now, the development of his subsequent construction plans would slow down significantly.
This godforsaken island wouldn't give him time to drag his feet.
...
What kind of feelings did Valentina have for Chuck?
In the beginning, it was hostility and even a trace of contempt, but after being pounded into the ground by Chuck's brute force time and again—even being hung up while he violated her rear...
Over this period, her view of Chuck had become increasingly complex.
Of course, this didn't include romantic feelings; to her, such things were for people in the pampered cradles of civilization whose heads were filled only with pleasure.
Perhaps Chuck was one of them, but undeniably, everything he possessed on this island was built upon an unimaginably powerful strength.
Adoring the strong is a common trait of all living creatures.
So this strength made the proud female warrior long to overcome it, but equally, it made her look up to him.
Late at night, Valentina woke up in the flickering firelight.
She lifted her trembling eyelids, her emerald eyes gradually regaining focus as her memories from before she fainted returned.
Because of her past experience surviving on the battlefield, Valentina quickly adjusted her mindset, not panicking but instead rapidly observing her surroundings.
Only then did she realize that she had, at some point, left that cold and dark cave.
Her right hand was still bound by a chain fixed to the head of the bed, but her left hand and both legs were completely free. She was lying on a somewhat simple wooden single bed in a cramped room filled with storage lockers for various supplies.
Firelight drifted in from outside the door.
Along with it came a faint, stuffy scent of salt and musk. Valentina understood what that smell meant—it was the scent of sex.
She slowly sat up, her snowy feet touching the smooth mortar floor beneath the bed, and she glanced sideways at the chain on her right hand.
She didn't try to break free.
At the same time, she noticed two clay bowls sitting under the bed, containing food and water.
The moment she saw them, Valentina felt a delayed, intense surge of thirst and hunger. Without ceremony, she grabbed the bowl and devoured the dried meat and sweet potatoes, then took the bowl of fresh water and gulped it down.
After a bowl of water, Valentina wiped the corner of her mouth.
A look of confusion appeared in her eyes.
Why did this water have a hint of saltiness?
But before she could think, a set of footsteps from outside the door made her head snap around.
The next moment, a naked, tall figure covered in water droplets with muscles as sculpted as a statue appeared.
"You're awake?"
Wiping the sweat and milk from his body with a cloth, Chuck stretched his limbs after his intense workout and then stepped into the storage room without hesitation.
Clink.
Seeing him approach so suddenly, Valentina stood up immediately, backing into the corner by the bed, a look of wariness in her eyes.
Chuck frowned, dissatisfied with her reaction.
"If I wanted to fuck you, I would have had my fill during the eight hours you were unconscious."
That said, he didn't move any closer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"What happened to me?"
Seeing him like this, Valentina gradually calmed down, her brow furrowed as she asked.
"Apparently, it was hyponatremia. It seems you've been on this island longer than I thought."
Hearing Chuck's answer, the confusion in Valentina's eyes vanished.
It turned into irritation and annoyance at herself.
It was indeed her own negligence.
In wilderness survival, salt replenishment is just as important as food and water, but over the past few days, she'd had no lack of food and was focused solely on fighting Chuck, to the point where she had subconsciously ignored her body's discomfort.
Long-term survival on the battlefield had given her a tolerance for pain and discomfort far beyond ordinary people. Something that would disrupt a normal person's life and send them to a clinic might be something she just endured and forgot.
But regardless, that matter wasn't important now.
"Then we continue."
Valentina looked at Chuck, clenching her fists again, battle-lust returning to her eyes.
"Plenty of spirit, but I decline."
"Why!"
Chuck looked at her, helplessly pointing at his still semi-erect groin.
"Can't you tell? I'm exhausted, and I already gave you a chance—you're the one who couldn't hold on."
"..."
Valentina was speechless and could only give up. After a long silence, she managed to squeeze out:
"Shameless."
Chuck raised an eyebrow.
But he didn't get angry; instead, a smirk appeared on his face.
Under Valentina's annoyed gaze, he imitated her rough Russian accent, speaking slowly and clearly:
"I admit you are strong, but you are only 'strong'."
As the words fell, Valentina's green pupils snapped wide.
The irritation on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a wave of intense shame and rage. Her snowy cheeks turned a vivid red, and she shouted at Chuck.
"Shut up! Shut up!!"
But Chuck ignored her protest entirely. He even raised a hand, intentionally messing up his hair to make his bangs look disheveled.
It was an exact replica of Valentina's look back then.
Then, with a straight face, he continued to mock her in that accent.
"Next... I will show you what a real fight looks like!"
"FUCK YOU!!"
Accompanied by Valentina's shattered, enraged curse, Chuck fell flat forward toward the floor.
However, before his nose hit the ground, his powerful hands caught him, and with a strong push, he bounced back into a standing position.
"I will kill you."
Click.
The sound of the chain snapping taut followed as Valentina stopped just two steps from Chuck, her face red all the way to her ears, carrying unmistakable killing intent.
Seeing this, Chuck wasn't the least bit intimidated, wearing a calm smile.
"Just a joke."
"Besides, you've said that twenty times already. If it worked, you wouldn't still be in chains."
"..."
Under Valentina's furious gaze, Chuck continued calmly.
"There's one more thing."
"You've been a free-loader for long enough. Starting tomorrow, you have to work for me."
"Work, and you get to eat. Work, and I'll give you another chance to challenge me."
Having said that, Chuck had no intention of continuing the conversation and walked out of the storage room.
At this point, he wasn't worried about the silver-haired Russian doing anything sneaky. After failing time and again and being stripped of her dignity...
What Valentina wanted was no longer just to kill him, but a fair, honorable victory to wash away her shame.
He understood her psyche well enough to have her completely under his thumb.
Adding wood to the fire, Chuck returned to the messy bed, pillowed on Janet's soft arm and holding Julia's fragrant body, silently staring at the ceiling lit by the hearth.
His brow furrowed.
Compared to Valentina, Chuck was facing a much more severe challenge.
Before going to sleep, he had called another family meeting to see if any of the women knew anything about steelmaking processes.
To be honest, Chuck hadn't held much hope, as he considered it professional knowledge, but he hadn't expected to get an answer from Momo.
"In that case, Baba, you've only finished the first stage of smelting. You reduced the iron ore into pig iron. But the carbon content in pig iron is too high, making it hard and brittle. To improve toughness, you have to melt it further and add oxidizers to reduce the carbon and other impurities."
"In short, you have to remove the impurities to create carbon steel with lower carbon content."
"..."
Chuck remained silent for a long time after hearing Momo's explanation.
"Is that a high school topic?"
"Yeah, in the mandatory chemistry textbook, the chapter on metals and compounds."
Looking into Momo's innocent, watery eyes, Chuck was suddenly unsure if he had even attended high school himself...
But anyway, thanks to Momo, Chuck understood the problem he faced.
Simply put, it was just like extracting salt from seawater—it was all about purification and removing impurities, only this time the target was molten metal at over a thousand degrees.
When Chuck asked specifically how to do it, Momo pouted, unable to answer. Chuck could only hold her and comfort her, keeping the matter in his heart.
He didn't blame her; for an elite student of the education system, knowing that much was already impressive. When it came to practical application, that wasn't something textbooks and exam papers could provide.
However, Chuck wasn't at a total dead-end.
After all, as everyone knew, he had a cheat.
...
Early the next morning, Chuck got up as usual.
But just as he was preparing to head out for his morning exercise, he suddenly heard a faint sound of heavy breathing from the storage room.
Chuck raised an eyebrow, thinking there might be a show to watch, but when he reached the door, he found the silver-haired Russian wasn't self-pleasuring. Instead, she was shirtless, doing push-ups on the smooth mortar floor.
Her clearly defined snowy back and sharp, squared shoulders were already soaked with sweat; the two pink dots on her chest appeared and disappeared from Chuck's sight as she moved up and down.
Her form was perfect, no slacking at all. Occasionally, she would explode with power, launching her body into the air and clapping her hands in front of her. Chuck watched with admiration as a fire started in his gut.
If things went well with his work today, he really ought to take this muscular woman down.
With that thought, Chuck smiled and pushed open the door to head out.
He used to stick to a fitness routine, but now he didn't need to. After all, his body was completely different from Valentina's hard-earned physique; he had gotten his by synthesizing potions and swallowing them one by one.
The gap was clear!