Chapter 217: This Is Your Punishment
The third annual Rhodes Island Super Swivel Chair Racing Championship finally came to a close as night fell, drawing the curtain on an eventful day. The post-race ball, lively with music and laughter, slowly quieted, its final note fading into the dusk.
Steven, who had long since stopped dancing, now carried a peacefully sleeping Gladiia in his arms. With careful steps, he approached Skadi—and found her in much the same state, holding a slumbering Specter like a princess from a fairytale.
"Heh, looks like we're in the same boat tonight," Steven joked softly, flashing a wry grin as he glanced at Specter curled up in Skadi's arms.
Skadi furrowed her brow. "That's to be expected. But... did something happen to the Second Company Captain just now? Her behavior seemed a bit off—almost like…" She trailed off, uneasy.
She had watched the entire dance from the sidelines with Specter. At first, she simply felt envy toward Steven's grace on the dance floor. But as time passed, even someone as slow to pick up on things as Skadi couldn't help but notice—those two weren't dancing at all. They were talking, deeply, intently.
Could it be that Gladiia had regained her memories?
Turning hopeful eyes to Steven, Skadi looked to him for confirmation, silently pleading for the truth.
But Steven only gave a faint smile and shook his head. "Strange? I didn't see anything strange. She's always been like that, hasn't she? Maybe you were imagining things."
If Gladiia really had recovered her memories, then it was up to her to tell her companions. Since she hadn't said a word, Steven would play dumb—for now.
Fortunately, the little orca before him was easy enough to fool.
Skadi scratched her head, a puzzled look spreading across her face.
'Did I really imagine it? Or is that just how she always dances?'
It wasn't entirely impossible.
Still half-suspecting, half-doubting herself, Skadi quietly carried Specter back to their shared hospital room, completely unaware of the playful smirk tugging at Steven's lips behind her.
If Gladiia weren't still pretending to be amnesiac, he might've asked her right then and there: Was Skadi always this adorably clueless?
After settling Gladiia into her own room, Steven gently released her hands from around his neck and set her down on the bed. He placed her iconic triangular hat beside her pillow.
She looked like a fairytale princess in her slumber—serene, unguarded, curled tightly like someone seeking refuge from a world too harsh.
With a soft smile, Steven brushed the loose strands of hair from her face, then placed a folder filled with documents on the Church of the Deep beside her.
He didn't leave right away. When her hand slipped from his shoulder, it found the hem of his clothes and clutched tightly—subtle, but firm. It left him with no real choice but to stay.
He quietly sat beside her, reaching out to gently clasp her cold hand. The tension in her body, ever-present since she first drifted off, finally began to ease.
"For someone your age, you really have no sense of security, huh?" he whispered, voice laced with tenderness. "What kind of things did you go through to end up like this…"
Steven let out a quiet, helpless sigh, muttering under his breath as he leaned his cheek into his hand. With Gladiia's soft and rhythmic breathing beside him, he slowly closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of rest.
There wasn't much else he could do—waking a sleeping girl just wasn't something a gentleman should do, after all.
Not that Steven could fall asleep so easily, even if he wanted to. As a Minecrafter, he wasn't exactly built for comfort. Without a proper bed, sleep was more a theoretical concept than a real possibility. So, rather than sleeping, it was more accurate to say he was meditating—closing his eyes and recharging his mind while indulging his daughter's need for emotional comfort.
Still, even so... the subtle, violet-like fragrance that clung to Gladiia—delicate and distinctly girlish—began to fill the air with every breath she took. It was enough to make even someone like him start feeling drowsy.
Steven liked to believe in things like "a girl's natural scent." And in a world based on a gacha game tailored for a certain type ofplayer, it only made sense that every girl would be impossibly soft, fragrant, and untainted by the filth of the real world. Almost like they stepped straight out of a fairytale.
He was drifting into these bizarre musings when his hand, still holding Gladiia's, felt a faint tremble. Her fingers—once icy and tense—had just started to warm when they shivered gently.
She was awake.
Steven didn't open his eyes. He simply kept his position, head resting on the edge of her bed, and allowed her hand to slip out of his.
From the moment Gladiia's memories returned, he had known. Maybe their bond would last, maybe it wouldn't—but either way, they would have to part, at least for now.
Gladiia had her own journey to continue, her own burdens to shoulder. Steven couldn't, and wouldn't, try to chain her to his side.
Even real daughters eventually outgrew their fathers and left to face the world. How could he expect anything different from someone like Gladiia—someone who still carried so many secrets of her own?
And Steven... wasn't good at goodbyes. He hated the sour, silent weight of farewell. So instead of facing her directly, he chose to pretend to be asleep. It spared them both the awkwardness of an actual parting.
Besides, she was bound to return to Iberia eventually. When that time came, he could just go find her.
As for the Church of the Deep and its members? Steven had no intention of letting them off the hook.
While he was lost in these quiet thoughts, he heard the soft rustle of papers—the sound of Gladiia flipping through the documents he'd left at her bedside.
She was awake, reading.
Once she finished, it'd probably be time for her to go.
'Go on, go on... The kid's all grown up, wings strong enough to fly. Guess it's time to let her spread them,' he murmured inwardly, with a weary sigh. 'Still, who'd have thought I'd get to experience what it feels like to send off a daughter before even having a girlfriend? That's some next-level weird, right there.'
He let himself smirk bitterly at the thought and kept up his sleeping act, waiting for the inevitable footsteps, the soft click of a door opening, and the hush of absence.
But... none of that came.
Instead, he felt her scent draw closer.
Closer still.
Until it was unmistakable—Gladiia had leaned in, right up next to him.
Though Steven was definitely puzzled, he didn't open his eyes. His breathing stayed slow, measured—like someone deep in peaceful sleep. But his mind? Sharp and suspicious.
'All right then, let's see what you're up to,' he thought. 'Creeping up on me this quietly—what's in that little head of yours, Gladiia?'
Still, he hadn't expected what happened next.
She didn't move.
From the soft exhale warming his face, Steven could tell—Gladiia was right in front of him. Her breath still carried the warmth of sleep, her scent unmistakable. From the feel of it... she was less than ten centimeters away from his face.
'What the hell...?' he blinked internally. 'She's this close? I mean, sure, I know I'm handsome, but is this really necessary? What, is she planning to draw on my face or something?'
Steven kept his poker face intact. Or rather, his fake-sleeping face. He held steady, waiting for her next move.
But Gladiia... didn't budge.
She just stayed there.
Seconds turned to minutes. Steven wasn't sure how much time had passed. All he knew was, if her scent wasn't weirdly... addicting... he'd have opened his eyes by now just to put an end to the unbearable awkwardness.
But then—finally—something changed.
Cool fingertips brushed his cheek. Delicate. Hesitant. Then—
A gentle, familiar fragrance swept past his lips.
A kiss.
Not a dream, not a misread signal. A real kiss.
His mind blanked.
He knew that scent. That taste. Even if he wanted to forget it, he couldn't—it was his first kiss. A memory buried deep in his heart, now abruptly pulled into the light.
And now, the sensation flooding his lips pulled him straight back—to that little house in Iberia, to that strange, quiet moment when everything had changed without warning.
She hadn't moved much. Just leaned in, their lips barely touching. Technically a kiss, but more like the innocent kind exchanged between children.
And yet—it wrecked him.
For someone who'd never even held a girlfriend's hand, this was... a full-system shutdown.
Steven, who liked to boast that he'd seen everything, faced assassins, monsters, and even admins without flinching, now found himself completely flustered... because a girl had kissed him.
As Gladiia pulled away, her lips leaving his, Steven stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief. That normally calm, aloof girl was now smiling faintly at the corners of her eyes—mischievous, almost smug.
Then—before he could say a word—she turned. In the blink of an eye, she became a swift, darting blur, like a swordfish slicing through the sea, and vanished from his side.
Her voice lingered in the air, soft yet clear, like the echo of a wave:
"That's your punishment for pretending to be asleep. Now you know what it feels like to get surprise-kissed out of nowhere."
"You're mine now. Get ready to come back to the sea with me. You don't get to say no."
And just like that, she was gone.
The room returned to silence. Steven, finally stirring from his daze, touched his lips with trembling fingers. The warmth was still there, the ghost of her kiss refusing to fade.
He blinked slowly.
'My adopted daughter... might be a little too dangerous.'
'She doesn't seem satisfied with just being a daughter, does she...?'
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