Starting from Robinson Crusoe

Chapter 494 - 32: Return Journey

However, this boat wasn’t large. Besides Kosu, who was holding a compass to determine direction, there was Sunday raising the sails, and Kulu who was idle and despondent.

This man, who was always silent, hadn’t spoken a word since he killed his former spouse.

His clothes were still stained with some blood spots, his zombie-like face showed no change in expression, and his eyes revealed no emotional fluctuation.

Seeing someone struggling, Kulu took a step forward and delivered a hard slap, the sharp sound quieting all the captives.

Only Kulu stood afar, gazing at the dwindling archipelago, looking longingly in the direction his son was said to have swum.

...

After practical use, Kosu had fully grasped how to use the compass and could combine this handy tool with his own experience to assist in steering the boat.

He chatted with Sunday as they skillfully adjusted their course forward.

Having confirmed their direction, Kosu stretched, relaxing his muscles that had been working all night, and walked to Kulu’s side, patting his shoulder.

"It’s okay, since you haven’t seen your son’s body, it means he still has a chance to be alive.

What did Teacher Saturday teach us?

Great fortune often follows great danger!"

Seeing Kulu still silent, Kosu continued to persuade him.

"We completed this mission beautifully. With the experience we gained, the leader will likely send us here again.

And next time, maybe we’ll bring more people.

Perhaps, you’ll have a chance to explore another island, maybe even find your son."

Hearing this, a bit of spirit finally returned to Kulu’s eyes, seemingly reigniting hope in his heart.

Seeing this, Kosu continued.

"For your son’s sake, you need to pull yourself together, you can’t always look so dispirited.

If you keep this up, the leader might not find you useful.

I’ve heard the whole story about you and the zebra, you’re not inferior to the zebra.

If someone like me can be valued, why do you live so despairingly? Would your son want to see you like this?"

...

"Enough, don’t give him too much useless hope."

Kosu’s words were interrupted by Sunday.

This young man, after a whole night’s rush, still appeared vibrant and not the slightest bit fatigued, exuding a certain scent of blood.

Although he was neither tall nor strong, on the boat he stood out, possessing a leadership quality uniquely his own.

Kulu hadn’t recovered from Kosu’s comforting words when Sunday poured a basin of cold water over him.

"Don’t live with such baseless hope, your son is likely dead. Even if you were sent to another island, you wouldn’t find him.

But he’s dead, and you’re alive, you must take revenge for him, understand?

Last night we killed two people, they were among those who killed your son but not all of them.

One more culprit remains, right in the heart of the tribe—

that so-called leader, if it weren’t for him, would your son have risked jumping into the sea, then drowned?"

Hearing the first part of Sunday’s words, Kulu slowly lowered his head, seemingly unable to accept the harsh reality.

After hearing the latter part, his body huddled, the figure of the "leader" who once trampled him deep into the mud, remained an insurmountable mountain to him today, just the thought of challenging him made Kulu feel powerless.

Sunday despised this display in Kulu the most.

He grabbed Kulu’s collar and forcibly lifted him, making Kulu look him straight in the eyes.

"Are you a waste?

When killing last night, you had quite some skill, right?

Why can’t you change when it comes to another person?

Who really killed your son? Have you not recognized it yet?

What’s so great about the leader? Is the leader mightier than the ’Celestial God’? Is the leader stronger than the brown-haired people? Doesn’t the leader still have to fawn over those who came with large ships from the sea, whereas our ’Celestial God’ can hang the brown-haired people to death."

"Your cowardice dishonors the ’Celestial God’, all warriors on the island will be ashamed of your actions."

Sunday said, taking the gun off his back to show Kulu.

"Change your bad habits, otherwise, even if the ’Celestial God’ permits, I won’t take you next time.

You only lost a son, while more than half of my tribe, my parents, and the priest of our tribe all perished at this leader’s hands.

If it weren’t for completing the mission, I would have killed him last night!"

Reaching here, Sunday’s eyes were filled with ferocity, making it impossible for Kulu to gaze directly into this sharp young man’s eyes.

His facial expression was unchanged from before, yet Sunday’s words stirred immense turmoil within him.

Despite the difference in educational resources, some words from Sunday he couldn’t understand, yet he could grasp the general meaning.

The once lofty leader was utterly dragged down from his throne by Sunday’s words.

When discarding the past grandeur and filters, upon closer inspection of the former "leader", Kulu discovered this person was also a native who had grown up naked, no different from himself who had not been captured.

In terms of intelligence, this leader didn’t understand farming, animal husbandry, literacy, poetry, nor chess, couldn’t forge, and couldn’t construct tall and strong houses.

In terms of prowess, the tribe leader couldn’t be compared with the "Celestial God".

If the tribe had already possessed the armor of the ’Celestial God’, the weapons of the Celestial God, along with night vision goggles and such enchanting equipment, they would have unified the islands long ago, their expansion would not have been hindered by any small tribe.

This view made it exceedingly clear who truly was the true god in the heavens and who was the false god on the earth.

Recognizing the true nature of the tribe leader, thinking of his past deeds made Kulu feel a surge of anger arise from his chest, nearly giving him the urge to immediately plunge into the sea to swim back to the island to take revenge.

"It’s good if you’ve thought it through."

Catching the change in Kulu’s thoughts, Sunday released his hand, walking alone to the prow, sitting down and gazing distantly over the sea.

...

Sunlight streamed from behind the small boat, reflecting a golden hue from the gently undulating waves in the west on the horizon.

The crimson-orange sun had risen, the starry sky from last night had long faded into the vast sky.

Sunday stroked the hard and cold body of the rifle, turning back to glance at the archipelago that had already turned into a tiny black dot.

This time, he could only be a hunter in the night, modestly tearing a small piece of flesh to satisfy hunger and thirst.

The next time he resurfaces, he might become an open and honorable beast, using gunpowder and bullets to show that "false leader" who truly owns this sea territory.

...

The weather in the dry season was consistently stable.

In the morning, a few wisps of clouds could be seen, but once the sun rose, the sea and sky became entirely blue, with only the bright sunlight.

Advancing on the sea, not a bit of shade could be found.

However, the sails on the boat became a natural sunshade, casting a shadow, albeit blocking a little sunlight, it provided a slight comfort.

The captured natives, perpetually underfed, curled up inside the cabin, unable to move and growing faint from the sun.

Worried these fellows might suffer the same issue as when Saturday was rescued, Sunday had Kulu give each of the natives some water, allowing these frail-monkey-like fellows to regain a bit of spirit.

...

Although the course for the return journey was correct, the wind wasn’t blowing towards Big Island.

Even though Sunday maneuvered the sails excellently, the sailing speed was still affected.

Originally expected to arrive at Big Island around eight or nine in the morning, they spent over five hours, not arriving near Big Island until close to eleven thirty.

Upon seeing the familiar coastline, the bare near-shore forest, and the protruding salt drying pools and wooden stone walls on the beach, the trio team gained energy.

They all picked up paddles, rowing together to speed up the slow-moving boat.

Meanwhile, on the nearby island, lookouts had already spotted the sailboat, hastening towards the factory to inform Chen Zhou.