Capítulo 2: Ch.: 2. Crafting Table and Chest obtained, Dockyard, Accident, Stacy
Manav wandered around Central Park for a while until he finally found a quiet spot surrounded by enough trees. He approached one of the trees and began punching it with his fists. Each hit caused cracks to form in the bark. After about a dozen punches, the tree finally dropped a wooden block, and the rest of the tree vanished entirely.
"Looks like the tree's density determines the drops. This one was short, maybe just two meters tall, so I only got a single block," Manav mused aloud.
As he prepared to punch another tree, an elderly man mowing the grass nearby called out, "Hey, young man! Cutting down trees is bad, you know."
Manav turned to him and replied with a smile, "Don't worry, Uncle. I'll plant more trees to make up for it."
The old man gave him a brief nod and resumed his work. Manav turned back to the tree, only to pause as recognition dawned on him. "Wait… was that… Stan Lee?!" He quickly turned around, but the old man was gone, along with his machine. "Well, no point in dwelling on it. There might be other chances to meet him."
Shrugging off the strange encounter, Manav returned to his task. After punching trees for over an hour, he finally accumulated five wooden blocks. He raised his hands, where the mini wooden blocks hovered in his inventory panel. Suddenly, the blocks started spinning rapidly and fused together into a crafting table block.
Manav placed the crafting table on the ground, where it expanded to its full size. With newfound enthusiasm, he continued collecting wooden blocks, this time gathering 23 in total. He then used the crafting table to assemble a chest. Unlike the instant crafting in Minecraft, the table shook and rattled as it worked, taking several minutes to complete the process. Finally, a hovering chest appeared above the table.
[Ding! Shoulder Chest or Normal Chest?]
A prompt flashed before his eyes. Manav selected "Shoulder Chest," and the chest shrank to a compact size before attaching itself to his back. A third storage panel appeared in his vision, expanding his inventory capacity.
"Whoa! This is way cooler than in the game," he said, admiring the seamless integration. Storing his remaining wooden blocks, he decided to leave the park and head for a new location—the dockyard where abandoned ships were rumored to be stored.
---
After hiring a taxi, Manav arrived at the dockyard about half an hour later. He paid the driver, then began inspecting the fences for a way to sneak in. Eventually, he found a small hole, just large enough to crawl through. Dusting himself off after crawling under, he ventured into the quieter areas of the yard.
As he explored, a sudden cry broke the silence.
"Ouch!"
Manav turned toward the sound and saw a blonde teenage girl sitting on the ground, rubbing her backside. She had apparently fallen from a height.
"Uh, sorry! I'll find another spot. You go ahead," the girl said quickly, waving him off as she stood to leave.
Manav paused, narrowing his eyes. "No… it can't be. Gwen Stacy?" The realization hit him like a bolt. Not wanting to cause trouble, he turned and walked away.
"Hey! Wait!" the girl shouted after him.
Manav ignored her and began running. Suddenly, he felt a heavy weight slam into his back. Gwen had leaped forward, pinning him to the ground.
"Ahhh!" Manav cried out in pain as his chin hit the concrete. His vision blurred, and his consciousness wavered.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry! I couldn't control my strength!" Gwen apologized, standing over him.
Manav groaned weakly. "I think… my arm's broken..." His voice trailed off as he lost consciousness.
---
When Manav came to, he found himself lying in a hospital bed with his right arm in a plaster cast. A nurse informed him he had been brought in by a blonde girl, who had paid his hospital bill. Moments later, the girl returned with an older man in a police officer's uniform.
"Hello, young man. I'm Officer George Stacy. I'm deeply sorry for my daughter's actions," the man said, handing him $100. "Please use this for your recovery. Get yourself some nutritious food."
Manav looked up at George and squinted at the officer's name tag to confirm his suspicions. "Officer George Stacy… I accept your apology, but I don't need the money. My only real problem now is who's going to cook for me. I don't like eating out," he said, sighing.
"Where are your parents? I'd like to speak with them," George asked, his tone softening.
Manav's expression darkened. "In heaven. They passed away a year ago."
George looked taken aback. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said before his radio crackled to life, calling him to a bank robbery in progress. "I have to go, but Gwen, stay here and make sure everything's okay."
As George left, Gwen turned to Manav with a sheepish expression. "So… what do you eat?"
"Mostly Indian food, especially from western Rajasthan. But no beef—cows are sacred to me," Manav explained.
A spark lit in Gwen's eyes at the mention of spices. "Alright. I'll cook for you for a week to make up for this," she offered, jotting down her number and handing it to him before hurrying off.
Manav stared at the paper in his hand. "Gwen Stacy… this really is my life now."
A nurse soon discharged him, and Manav headed home, hailing a taxi as the sun set on another bizarre day.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder