Chiyu still seemed to have questions about how items were displayed and categorized.

You could generate Salt and Drinking Water from seawater, but there wasn’t even a hint of what you’d call bittern.

“Is it based on the user’s perception? Or are there elements that get rejected? ...Or maybe it’s simplified in a game-like way.”

“Who knows.”

For example, in games, a weapon you buy from a shop usually keeps its original performance forever.

But in reality, weapons wear down and deteriorate. Fixing them should cost money, and even that would have limits—yet games never touch it.

And it’s not like players fly into a rage over every little thing like that.

Too much weird realism can kill immersion.

On the other hand, there are games that do include things like blades getting dull, and turn that into part of the fun—but that’s only because it adds to the fun, so players accept it.

It’s not like “realism” itself is what matters.

Even this Crafting Ability—if it started showing items as chemical formulas and the like, my brain would fry and I wouldn’t be able to use it properly.

In other words, the correct way to put it is probably: a Crafting Ability designed around Kuno Sousuke using it.

For better or worse, it’s an ability made for me.

Chiyu’s Healing Magic is the same, and I’m sure the other abilities my classmates got are, too.

“Well, we can think about that when it actually matters.”

“Tha—crabsolutely.”

Chiyu said it while holding up an expressionless double peace sign.

It was probably a pun on crab.

If a guy did that, it would die a cold death on the spot, but when your cute childhood friend does it, it somehow feels soothing.

Cute is always justice.

“I can make water, but like with the seashell, I need a container.”

“For now, I want you to tell me what you can make.”

“Yeah.”

Chiyu and I shared information about our abilities.

If it were anyone else, I’d be careful—but there’s no universe where this childhood friend betrays me or sets me up, so I trust her completely.

On Chiyu’s side, she currently had two spells she could use.

Basic Heal and Purify.

The first was a healing spell that only worked on minor injuries and conditions.

Cuts, bruises, scrapes—those could be healed, but if your arm got chopped off, it wasn’t going back on.

She could bring down a slight fever, but a high fever would be difficult.

But she said that could change depending on proficiency.

Basically, leveling.

The second was a spell that disinfected and washed either an affected area or a fixed range. She didn’t know if there was a stronger version.

It was standard as far as standards went, but it was insanely useful.

I did wonder, Does purification really count as healing magic?—but that was probably another case of Healing Magic designed around Iyama Chiyu using it.

Chiyu said she’d been picturing a classic white mage, so maybe that got reflected.

For now, she also didn’t know whether there was any limit on how many times she could use it.

“My short-term goal is to be able to instantly heal at least a broken bone.”

Those were Chiyu’s words.

She was going to be a reliable healer.

“Here’s what I can probably make.”

Using a branch I’d picked up, I wrote the list of things on the sand.

“Looking at this, So-kun’s Recipes will probably increase the more you explore.”

“Oh? You think so too, Chiyu?”

“Yeah. With what we know right now, that’s the most reasonable guess. And even if we explore and the Recipes don’t increase, we don’t really lose anything.”

“True. In that case, we still gain the fact that our theory was wrong. And exploring itself won’t be a waste.”

“What we need right now is... ‘water,’ ‘a place to sleep,’ and ‘food’?”

“That order, exactly.”

I wanted answers about the mystery blackboard and how to get back to Japan too—but to do that, we had to live first.

Without water, you ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) die.

Between shelter and food, it was hard to decide, but if it started raining out of nowhere—or the nights got cold—we needed somewhere we could at least block wind and rain.

Even with Healing Magic, we couldn’t afford to get cocky.

“Yeah. Thinking forever won’t change anything.”

For now, we gathered stones and branches and driftwood, then crafted Stone Axe, Stone Knife, and Wooden Spear.

Then, at Chiyu’s suggestion, she said, “I want a basket I can carry on my back,” and when I focused on it, a new Recipe appeared: Wooden Basket.

Looks like my own mental image affected things too.

When I crafted it and placed it, a basket formed—like thinly shaved wood woven into a grid.

“Ooh. Amazing... ah.”

“What is it, Chiyu?”

With the same blank face, but somehow wearing a smug little air, Chiyu looked up at me from under her lashes.

“‘As expected of you, So-kun.’”

“Quit that. That ‘praise the protagonist’ thing is a cliché from gacha games and isekai stories. I’m not the protagonist.”

“But So-kun was a little happy.”

W-Well... I mean, I was.

“Next time I’m the one getting your magic, I’ll be the one to say it first.”

If she got hit with the full force of As expected, Chiyu, she’d understand how I felt.

“Looking forward to it.”

Saying that, Chiyu slung the basket on her back and started walking the beach to pick up items.

While she did that, I was trying to cut down a tree near the shoreline with my stone axe.

I decided which direction I wanted it to fall, then swung: diagonal, horizontal, diagonal, horizontal.

Once the cut was halfway through, I moved to the other side, started higher up than before, and repeated: diagonal, horizontal.

Eventually the tree groaned, creaked, and collapsed in the direction I’d chosen.

It hit with a huge crash—leaves flying, snapped branches whipping through the air, even the trunk itself bouncing as it kicked up dirt and dust.

“Hah... hah... y-yeah, a total amateur shouldn’t just try this out of nowhere.”

Even while I was swinging, wood chips were flying and it was dangerous. The axe broke a few times. The skin on my hands got shredded and peeled, bright red. And on top of that, it was exhausting in a way I couldn’t even joke about.

If all I wanted was a lot of wood, it might’ve been better to just grind branches and driftwood.

Well. Too late now.

The result: Ordinary Lumber ×53.

I did it...!

And it was also great news that I could Itemize an entire tree, trunk and all.

My Inventory capacity seemed huge too, which was a relief.

Anyway.

The reason I needed that much lumber was—

“So-kun, good work. You looked cool.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah. At first you weren’t putting your hips into it, but then you gradually figured it out. It felt like gamer-style trial and error. It was really good.”

“S-Seriously?”

So she’d been watching a lot.

And she’d filled the basket with tons of seashells too. Huge help.

“I’m going to cast magic, okay?”

“Ooh. Please. Honestly, I pushed myself partly because I was counting on your magic.”

“Fufufu. I hope you end up with a body that can’t live without me.”

“Are you using that line correctly?”

Either way—Basic Heal.

Not only did it fix my hands, it felt like the pain all over my body and even my exhaustion were draining away.

“‘As expected of you, Lady Chiyu.’”

“If it’s you, So-kun, I’ll treat you for free.”

“Bless youuu.”

Laughing, I pressed my hands together like I was worshiping her, and then we turned back to the sea.

“Craft a whole bunch of Wooden Barrels—and then... place them in the ocean...!”

Gurgle, gurgle... The sound of seawater pouring into barrels set underwater echoed up.

Once a barrel filled, I stored it in my Inventory.

With that, we had a massive amount of Seawater.

Which meant we’d secured a massive amount of Drinking Water and Salt.

Now we could afford to leave the shore for a while and still be fine.

I also crafted Wooden Canteens and placed them within arm’s reach.

I placed water into the canteens and took a drink.

“Yeah... this is good. It soaks into you after hard labor...”

By the way, these canteens were tube-shaped, with a lid that fit into a groove on the body to seal it shut.

The Crafting Ability handled the fine work for me, which I was deeply grateful for.

“...The other kids might be having a rough time.”

“...Yeah.”

I’d been trying not to think about it, but what about the ones who said stuff like “smartphone” and “potato chips”?

If the mystery blackboard guy kindly hands out “a smartphone that connects to the internet” or “potato chips (one year’s supply),” then sure.

But unless someone specifically wished for it in that kind of detail, it was safer not to expect miracles.

If anything, the gyaru who got the ability talk rolling in the first place—Kanna Shouko—might’ve ended up saving a lot of people.

Because of her, a lot of students started thinking in terms of abilities.

—Well, depending on what happens next, that could also backfire.

In stories like this, the classic development is conflict between people.

All I could do was pray this one would break the cliché.