The Mystery of the Gold Apple
Morning arrives.
Without curtains on the window, the rising sun bathes the entire bed in light. And, lying on that bed, I'm woken up by the sunlight.
"Yawn… Morning already—wait, it's almost noon, isn't it?"
Looking out the window, the sun is nearly at its zenith, half-hidden from view.
In my previous life, I woke up before six in the morning and went to bed after midnight, so sleeping this soundly is a rare treat.
Even after becoming depressed and paralyzed from the waist down, that habit stuck, and if anything, depression often kept me from sleeping. Sleeping from nightfall until nearly noon might be the first time in years.
My body isn't tired or in pain. My mind is clear, and I'm not sleepy at all. This almost-too-luxurious awakening makes me feel a tiny bit guilty.
"…Right, I need to water the farm. I gave it plenty yesterday, so today I'll check the soil and water lightly."
Plants wilt without water, but too much can cause roots to rot due to soil conditions, so you have to check the soil's dryness daily—or so I've heard.
They also need fertilizer, but this cabin has neither fertilizer nor pesticides, so it'll be completely organic farming.
I've heard organic vegetables and fruits are delicious, but they're prone to disease or insect damage, reducing yields or even wiping out crops entirely, so organic isn't always the best choice.
For survival, prioritizing yield over taste is probably the better goal for now.
"Alright… let's see how it's doing—whoa!?"
Opening the front door and looking at the farm, I see that the plot, which only had young sprouts yesterday, is now lush with green growth.
It seems they grew a lot overnight. None have borne fruit yet, but some of the faster-growing ones have small flowers blooming, their progress dizzyingly rapid.
"Wow… incredible. Isn't farming supposed to be harder? Is it okay for them to grow this easily…?"
Each plant grows freely and vigorously. Vining plants have wrapped their tendrils around the branches I stuck in, blooming beautiful flowers in abundance.
Some plants aren't interacting with the branches, likely root vegetables, with leaves like carrots or daikon sticking out of the soil.
"The round seeds, right… Got it. Round-seed plants don't need stakes. Other seed plants are twining around the branches, but some don't seem to need stakes either. It's interesting how these differences show up."
Without paper to take notes, I commit it to memory, but the distinct variations among the seeds are fascinating.
The round seeds are root vegetables, with leaves resembling daikon but also similar to carrots. The root tips peeking out of the soil are faintly reddish-white.
The teardrop-shaped seeds have teardrop-shaped leaves and are the largest, but they spread outward rather than growing tall, so they don't need stakes.
The star-shaped seeds have star-like leaves. They're small but have many tiny leaves layered together. They're the most entwined with the branches, so stakes are essential.
The flat seeds have vines around the branches but aren't growing large. The soil is slightly raised, and their leaves are shaped like hearts or spades, so they might be potatoes. Stakes might be needed, just in case.
The rod-shaped seeds don't need stakes. Unlike the others, they have a thick, woody stem, with small, colorful flowers blooming sparsely. It's unclear what they'll produce, but I'm excited for the possibilities.
Summarizing these differences and traits in my head feels like it could take hours.
"So this is the fun of farming… Well, real farming is probably harder, but this is an isekai. This must be normal here."
To moisten the slightly dry soil, I point my palm at the farm and use water magic.
As usual, I can only produce water like from a hose, but it's more than enough for watering the farm, and the task is done in a moment.
While doing this, my stomach suddenly growls, and I realize I'm hungry.
So, I grab a gold apple from inside the cabin and, like yesterday, apply light pressure. The gold apple splits cleanly with a pop, and sweet-scented juice spills out.
"Still, this gold apple is pretty mysterious."
The gold apple can't be cut with a knife but splits easily by hand.
I thought it might be due to enhanced grip strength from a skill the god gave me, but that's not the case.
I couldn't break a branch by hand that a knife could chop, nor could I crush a small stone with my grip that a knife could shatter.
Yet, the gold apple, which a knife couldn't cut, splits astonishingly easily.
That's the mystery.
"Maybe there's some condition?"
I toss a piece of the split gold apple into my mouth, chewing the crisp flesh while puzzling over it.
The gold apple is bizarrely tough. If I threw it at a rock, the rock would crack, but the gold apple wouldn't have a single scratch.
I wondered if the rock was brittle, but it was the same material as common stones. Even hitting it repeatedly or striking it with another stone only chipped it, never cracking it.
My grip can split a gold apple. But a knife or rock can't even scratch it, let alone split it.
Yet, my strength can't crush a rock or break a knife-cuttable branch.
I'm strong against gold apples, gold apples are strong against knives and rocks, but knives and rocks are stronger than me… It's oddly like a rock-paper-scissors relationship.
"Maybe it's not just an apple. It tastes perfectly delicious, but it looks like an apple made of gemstones. Weird."
I thought maybe the skin was tough, but it's easily bitten, with a crisp, pleasant texture, so it's not particularly hard.
Hmm. Thinking about it won't solve it. This might be a pointless puzzle.
"For now, I'll keep exploring today."
Tossing another piece of gold apple into my mouth, I hang the knife in its leather sheath at my waist and head out to explore the forest.
Maybe I'll find edible small animals, like rabbits.
With that hope swelling in my chest, I step lightly into the forest.