"Live for a while?" David repeated, understanding exactly why Mark Watney had made the request. In *The Martian*, Mark was left stranded on Mars, with limited resources, and his greatest challenge was survival. His only hope lay in the distant prospect of a manned mission returning to Mars in four years. How to last those four years was Mark’s current struggle—ensuring his camp stayed intact, keeping oxygen and water flowing, and, most urgently, finding enough food to survive.

With rations intended for six astronauts for only 68 days, Mark had roughly 300 days' worth of food if he rationed carefully, maybe stretching to 400 days. But that still left him far short of the four years he'd need to hold out until rescue. That’s where his skill as a botanist came into play, and where his arrival in David’s Winter Village gave him new hope.

Here, in this strange village, he could not only survive but also potentially find a way to communicate with Earth and rendezvous with the next manned Mars mission.

David, on the other hand, saw nothing wrong with taking Mark in. After all, Mark was a botanist—exactly what David needed to solve his problem of cultivating barren land. The idea that Mark might share his knowledge or even teach David a thing or two about botany wasn’t lost on him. With a welcoming grin, David extended his hand again.

"You're no trouble at all. Welcome to Winter Village," David said warmly. There was no immediate sense of gaining new skills or abilities from the encounter, but he knew that over time, as he built his rapport with Mark, the benefits would come.

Besides, David had longer-term plans. If Laura could bring him high-yield crop seeds and they could get a farm up and running, David would eventually head to Iron Tree Fort to recruit more villagers. Having someone like Mark already living in the village would lend credibility to his efforts, convincing others to settle in Winter Village.

Mark, oblivious to David’s inner musings, was simply relieved to hear the words of welcome. His smile widened, though it was clear he was also distracted by the aroma of food wafting through the air.

Mark’s nose twitched, and his eyes lit up as he realized he wasn’t imagining it. There *was* a pot of broth simmering nearby. David brought a bowl over, the steam rising invitingly.

"Our village might be small and remote, but I hope you don't mind a simple meal," David said, setting the food down before him.

Mark, overwhelmed by gratitude, grinned even wider. "Mind? This is fantastic! Thank you so much for your hospitality. I’d be more than happy to help out however I can." He eagerly dug into the meal, clearly excited not only about the food but also the promise of solving his survival problem.

Mark, sitting with his wooden bowl, didn't want to be a burden. He'd already begun considering how he could contribute to this strange new place. Based on what he had observed so far, the world’s civilization seemed to be in a more primitive state compared to Earth. He believed his advanced knowledge, especially in botany and agriculture, could help improve the village.

As he ate, Mark expressed his desire to explore Winter Village and its surroundings. "I’d like to see more than just the four wooden houses. Maybe I can help out, see what’s growing nearby."

"Of course," David agreed readily. Fording also mentioned heading north to the forest, clearly concerned about potential threats in the area after their recent encounter with wolves. David understood and encouraged him to scout the area.

As they were finishing their breakfast, Laura came running into the village again. When Mark saw her materialize seemingly out of nowhere, most of his lingering doubts about this world vanished. Only a small part of him clung to the notion that this might be a bizarre dream.

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"Hi, my name is Lara Croft!" Laura introduced herself with her usual enthusiasm.

Mark couldn’t hide his bewildered expression. He hesitated for a moment before responding, "Hello, I’m Mark Watney." His mind was racing. *Lara Croft? As in the famous archaeologist from video games and movies? This must be a dream...*

Fording, who didn’t speak English, could still tell from their body language that this was a simple introduction. The humor in Mark’s reaction wasn’t lost on him either, and David kept his innocent act, observing quietly as if unaware of the irony.

Lara sensed something was off but chose not to press the issue. She had more important things to do and quickly asked David for some food and water. After David replenished her with a few buffs, she dashed off again, leaving Mark even more bewildered.

Mark's gaze lingered on David as he cast his spells, glowing with golden light. The sight only deepened Mark's realization—he wasn't just in another world, but a world where magic existed, something he’d only ever read about in books or seen in movies.

"What's that?" Mark asked, pointing to the golden light.

"Holy Light," David replied simply.

Mark furrowed his brow. The name was familiar. The fact that something as mystical as the Holy Light was real made the idea that he was dreaming even more plausible in his mind. He followed David as they tidied up the meal, twisting his arm and pinching his thigh now and then, but the pain kept reminding him that this was no dream. It was too vivid, too real.

"Wait," Mark suddenly stopped, his eyes wide with realization. He glanced around and then sprinted toward the back of one of the wooden houses.

David immediately reached for his hunting bow, thinking it might be a wild animal. "What is it? A beast?"

"No," Mark called back, crouching near the ground. "I think I found a potato seedling." His voice carried a mix of disbelief and excitement.

David's hand froze mid-motion, hovering over his bow as he stared in disbelief at Mark, who was now squatting behind the wooden house, inspecting the ground as if he'd discovered some hidden treasure. After what felt like a long moment, Mark finally raised his head with a confident expression.

"I'm not mistaken. These are definitely potato sprouts."

David blinked, speechless for a moment. He had lived in this village for two years—how could he have missed the presence of wild potatoes right under his nose? He opened his mouth, ready to dispute Mark’s claim, but something stopped him. After a second of looking at Mark's intense expression, he swallowed the rebuttal. Instead, he asked, "What’s that?"

Mark looked up, still focused on the potato sprouts, not even realizing how strange the question was. "A kind of food. It’s hearty, easy to grow, and has a high yield." To him, it seemed the people of this world didn’t know about potatoes or their value as a food source. "If wild potatoes are here, then that means we can farm them."

For Mark, who had planned to grow potatoes on Mars, this was a golden opportunity. The difficulties he'd anticipated for cultivating on Mars—water, atmosphere, temperature—were overwhelming. But here? This world was teeming with potential. If he could plant these potatoes, cultivate a proper field, it would secure not just his own food supply but also benefit the entire village. His excitement took over, and he began to mutter plans to himself, thinking about how and where to begin his potato farming operation.

David, watching Mark ramble on, didn’t interrupt. Instead, his attention drifted to the small sprouts at his feet. The green leaves were fresh and lively, springing up from the black soil. As he stared longer, something caught his eye—a subtle difference between the soil under the potato plants and the surrounding earth. He squinted, wondering if it was just a trick of the light or something he'd never noticed before.

"Am I imagining this?" He looked again but still couldn’t quite place the difference. One thing, however, was undeniable—there had been no potatoes here before. David had been meticulous in his search for wild vegetables and edible plants in the area. He would have noticed potatoes, especially ones growing this close to his home.

Which led to a curious conclusion: these potatoes hadn't been here before. They had appeared suddenly, likely connected to Mark's arrival.

David’s mind raced. "Could it be that the rewards from this world are not just skills or talents but also physical objects like these potatoes?" He recalled how, in the original story, Mark Watney had relied on potatoes to survive on Mars until he was rescued. Perhaps there was a special connection between Mark and these potatoes—like some kind of narrative logic shaping this world.

But if that was the case, then these potatoes could only be the beginning. What other strange or useful things might appear in this world, hidden until someone with a specific connection to them arrived? How would David find or claim such things?

For now, David kept his thoughts to himself, watching Mark plan his potato field with a growing sense of curiosity. The mystery of this world continued to deepen.