“How far is it?” Steve asked.
The bearded man threw his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it into the dirt with his foot.
“About 8 miles.”
Steve: ◨▂◧?
Those clear, black-and-white blocky eyes made The bearded man a little nervous.
“…What?”
“How many blocks?”
“Blocks??”
Taylor, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly had a flash of insight.
The image of Steve placing dirt and planting pumpkins meter by meter just now rushed into his mind.
He suddenly spoke up: “12,800 blocks.”
The bearded man and the others:???
When did you two get on the same wavelength???
Steve looked at Taylor and nodded.
Taylor actually managed to read the word ‘gratified’ from that blocky head.
However, over 12,000 blocks was indeed quite far.
Steve wanted to know if it was worth the trip: “How much iron ore is there?”
The bearded man didn’t speak, simply holding up five fingers.
Steve had no idea what that meant because he didn’t count using his fingers.
The bearded man held up his hand and waited for a long time without getting a response from Steve, so he had to speak up himself: “…About 5,000 tons.”
Steve turned his head to look at Taylor.
Taylor didn’t know why, but he seemed to vaguely see a sentence on that expressionless face:
How much is 5,000 tons?
Taylor’s forehead broke into a sweat.
Don’t treat me like your conversion tool!
How the hell am I supposed to explain this to you?
“One cubic meter of hematite is about 5 tons,” The bearded man added at the right moment.
“So, over a thousand cubic meters.”
Now Steve understood.
He already knew that 1 cubic meter equals 1 block.
That really was a lot.
“Specific location—where?”
The bearded man pulled out a crumpled map, spread it out, and began to explain.
According to him, he used to drive freight trains.
On the day the virus broke out, his train, fully loaded with ore, derailed near the Fresh Pond Hub.
This included a large amount of hematite.
Normally, no one would be interested in raw ore at a time like this, so there was a high probability that the hematite was still lying there obediently.
However, the Fresh Pond Hub was not only far from the camp, but it was also separated by the East River.
“It would be great if we had a car,” The bearded man sighed.
Taylor curled his lip.
“Forget it. Driving would probably attract tens of thousands of zombies along the way. Besides, with the current road conditions, you couldn’t drive even if you had a car—it’s all scrapped vehicles.”
The bearded man was choked up.
He instinctively wanted to argue but couldn’t find a counterpoint, so he turned to Steve: “…What do you want the hematite for? We can’t smelt that stuff right now.”
“I can use a furnace to smelt iron ore into iron ingots,” Steve said expressionlessly, a statement that left The bearded man full of question marks.
“…Where are we going to get a furnace??”
Steve didn’t speak.
He pulled out a crafting table, set it down, and placed eight stones in a circle, leaving the center empty.
A few seconds later, a furnace appeared on the ground.
The bearded man felt a bit dizzy.
Steve nodded, dug up the furnace, and put it back into his inventory.
The bearded man was speechless, but he couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.
The wonders of this square-headed man were obvious to all.
Anyway, Block Hero always had his reasons.
Whatever.
Taylor, however, stared at Steve’s back and suddenly asked, “Block Hero, why are you helping us?”
With the abilities he had shown, living alone would surely be much easier.
Steve looked up, staring directly into Taylor’s eyes with those two black-and-white squares.
For some reason, Taylor felt a bit unnerved by the stare.
“There are too many monsters outside. This is the only village.”
After saying that, he looked back down at the map.
Although Taylor didn’t quite understand, he felt something was off about those words, though he couldn’t say what.
At this moment, including everyone in the camp, no one fully realized what kind of existence Steve truly was; they only thought of him as a kind and miraculous fellow.
“Can I have the map?” Steve suddenly asked The bearded man.
The bearded man waved his hand indifferently, walked to the side, and lit another cigarette.
The moment Steve took the map in his blocky hand, it suddenly became perfectly flat.
Even its edges and shape changed, turning into a square map with slightly irregular borders.
Taylor saw this but didn’t say anything, only becoming more certain of his guess.
Block Hero indeed had some kind of ability to assimilate objects.
Steve put away the map and ran back to his small house.
He stored his resources, took his gear and three shulker boxes, and prepared to set off.
He went all the way to the perimeter wall, climbed up the ladder, passed Alan Baker who was on guard duty, and jumped straight out.
Alan froze for two seconds before reacting.
This guy… what’s the deal??
Why is he running out of the camp by himself in the middle of the night??
After snapping out of it, he hurried to report to Captain America via his headset: “Captain, Block Hero has suddenly left the camp. Was that your order?”
“Whaaat?? Where is he going??” Alan could tell just from the voice that Captain America was even more shocked than he was.
“Uh… he’s walking along West 50th Street… what should I do?”
A deep breath came through the headset: “Find someone to take over your post immediately! Follow him and ask where he’s going! If he’s leaving the camp, try to stall him first, then report his location to me!”
“Yes, sir,” Alan agreed, then hurriedly shouted, “Hey, Block Hero!”
Steve stopped in his tracks and stood on the street, looking up at him.
“Wait for me!” Alan quickly descended from the wall, arranging for a replacement while sprinting toward the security gate.
Block Hero could jump from a wall over ten meters high without getting hurt, but he certainly couldn’t.
Half a minute later, Alan finally stood before Steve, panting heavily.
“Where… whew… where are you going?”
“To get iron.” Steve was expressionless.
Alan was stunned for a second.
“Now? Where is there iron?”
Steve continued walking forward.
“Fresh Pond Hub.”
Alan hadn’t heard of this place, so he quickly lowered his voice to report to Captain America.
“Ask him what he plans to do with the iron,” Captain America said in a deep voice.
Alan hurried to relay the question.
“Protect you all,” Steve gave the same answer.
Captain America was silent for a moment upon hearing this.
“…Follow him for now. Keep an eye on him and make sure he returns to the camp afterward.”
Alan looked at the pitch-black night sky and felt his head throbbing.
Me??
Steve stopped and looked back at him, as if asking whether he was coming or not, and if not, to go back and stay out of the way.
Alan let out a long sigh.
“12,800 blocks.”
Alan knew that one of Steve’s blocks equaled one meter.
He did the math in his head, and his face turned dark.
“…Eight miles?!”
Steve nodded.
“…Fine.” Alan sighed, took his rifle off his shoulder, and followed Steve’s lead.
They had only walked side-by-side for a few meters when Alan suddenly had a strange feeling.
The next second, something flew out from his person and landed in front of Steve.
It seemed to be a cardboard carton, square, blue and white, floating above the ground and slowly rotating.
Alan was completely bewildered.
What was going on?
Steve was also stunned for a moment, but then he realized that Hero of the Village had triggered.
Players with this effect occasionally receive random gifts from villagers based on their profession.
Checking the buff bar on his inventory page, it was indeed the case; Hero of the Village was still active.
However, Hero of the Village was only supposed to last for 40 minutes, yet now only about 2 minutes had passed.
But several hours had clearly gone by since he obtained the buff.
He understood.
It was likely because the flow of time in this world was different from the Overworld.
Steve walked over and, with a ‘pop’ sound, absorbed the item.
[Fresh Milk].
Alan snapped out of it.
“What the hell just happened??”
Steve continued forward.
“That was a gift you gave me.”
Alan:???
What the hell is this guy talking about…
Forget it…
There were simply too many miraculous things about this Block Hero.
Alan didn’t bother to ask more, and the two continued their journey toward the Fresh Pond Hub.
Fortunately, Alan didn’t need to do anything along the way; killing zombies was like slicing vegetables for Steve.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, with the sky almost beginning to brighten, Alan finally saw the East River.
His legs were starting to ache, but Steve’s pace remained the same—neither fast nor slow, every step the same length, like he was wound up like a clock.
Alan was starting to flag.
He had already been on guard duty for the latter half of the night, and just when he thought he could go back and sleep, he was dragged on a hike…
Gradually, he fell half a step behind Steve, feeling his whole body getting heavier and heavier…
Until…
Thump!
Alan didn’t notice Steve had suddenly stopped and walked right into his rock-hard armor, nearly blacking out.
“Holy shit, why did you suddenly… stop…”
Alan came to Steve’s side and looked where he was staring, his voice trailing off.
On the road directly ahead of them, a few scattered zombies were stumbling and wailing, reaching out toward them, but Steve wasn’t looking at them.
He was looking at a person standing on the other side of the road.
That person had their back to them, motionless, like a statue.
Very tall, very muscular, with grayish-black skin, their head reflecting the morning sun.
“Crap…” Alan’s voice caught in his throat.
Just from the silhouette, he recognized who that person was.
That person—he had seen them on TV, and in the newspapers.
He had even seen them with his own eyes.