Charles gripped the bandage and drew the Black Blade embedded in his leg to use as a machete, continuously hacking at the bandaged branches ahead.
The branches with thorns were easily chopped off, but the severed ends were hollow inside.
The two burst into the deep forest, and soon Charles saw the other people mentioned by the bandaged branches. The scene before him was shocking.
Before him was a strange, dwarf tree, whose thorny trunk entwined the insides of a youth, a human hanging unconscious in mid-air like a piece of cured meat, swaying slightly like the fruit of this odd tree.
The "fruit" was not just one; the freakish tree was laden with them.
"Rescue them," Charles said, clenching the Black Blade and rushing forward.
A youth fell to the ground with a pained groan, slowly awakening. He looked at Charles, who was frantically chopping at the trunk, a bit dazed. "Who are you? Have you seen my captain?"
Charles didn't have time to worry about that. He crazily chopped at the branches, rescuing everyone, but this time something was indeed inside the hollow branches—a clump of short, trembling pink tentacles fell from the cross-section.
"Click, click, click..." The dwarf tree's trunk suddenly moved, drawing the attention of everyone present to it.
The rust-red trunk slowly cracked open, and several substantive gazes shot out from the crevices, sweeping over Charles.
A thought flashed through Charles's mind, "Is this thing alive?"
The movements of the dwarf tree grew more intense—so much so that Charles could now see the twisted flesh inside the crevices and those brownish-yellow eyes, as well as the raging fury within them.
"Run!" The living people around him sprang into action. Even if their understanding of the situation was murky, human instinct drove them to escape swiftly.
They'd barely taken a few steps when, with a loud "bang," the dwarf tree exploded, and a twisted flesh creature emerged.
At first glance, it resembled a black-furred starfish, but upon closer inspection, one would realize the fur was dense, dark, slender tentacles. An orange-yellow single eye and a large mouth full of fangs were situated in the center of its body.
The creature opened its beastly mouth, twitching its tentacles as it frantically pursued its fleeing prey.
Fortunately, the path that Charles had cleared earlier was there, and the distance between them kept growing.
"Click, click, click~" All the tree trunks around trembled and split. It was as if Charles and his companions had triggered some mechanism, and various deformed creatures, as though awakened from their sleep, stretched their nauseating flesh-strands.
They writhed, emitting piercing, headache-inducing screams that turned the entire island into a terrestrial Hell.
Evil gazes from all around swept over them, causing everyone to feel a chill down their spines, stiffening their limbs.
"Faster! Move faster!!" Charles urged, supporting the youth as they raced for their lives.
They'd been running for who knows how long, the situation becoming more dire—not only was there a surging mass of flesh behind them, but even the freakish trees ahead began to sway.
Just then, writhing tentacles formed a vast net in front of them—they were surrounded!
In the nick of time, Charles suddenly remembered something, he reached down to his waist and felt something hard—the explosives he'd brought!
"Boom!!" Flesh splattered, and the blocked pathway reappeared.
The explosives could help them carve a path, but as the supply of explosives dwindled, the expressions on everyone's faces grew grimmer.
Just as the last pack of explosives remained in Charles's hands, the sound of waves lapping against the beach reached them from afar—the exit was ahead!!
Everyone understood what this meant and pushed themselves to increase their pace, desperately tapping into the potential of their exhausted bodies.
The last bundle of dynamite was ignited and thrown out, and the hard ground was finally replaced by soft sand. They had made it out.
Seven people frantically rushed toward the wooden boat on the seashore, with the strip-like monsters closely following behind them.
In the corner of his eye, Charles saw a streak of gold flash by, it was the Fu Tan statue he had thrown on the ground earlier.
Charles ran a few steps, picking up the statue and jumping directly onto the wooden boat, while the others desperately rowed the oars, finally returning to the sea before those strip-like monsters could catch up.
The monsters seemed to be afraid of seawater, retreating back as soon as they touched it slightly.
Not until the group had completely returned to the Rat did they let out a sigh of relief; everyone collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath like old dogs.
Even though every muscle in his body protested, Charles still managed to stand up despite the soreness; the danger was not yet over, and they needed to leave the island.
"Chief Engineer, light up the furnace; sailors, weigh anchor; first mate, take the helm! We're leaving this Hellish place."
"Aye, Captain."
Seeing the crew swiftly carry out his orders, Charles suddenly felt a hint of surprise, sensing that something wasn't quite right.
He quickly filtered through his memories and was astonished to find that all the crew members had returned, and he could now call out each of their names.
It seemed that whether it was the island or the monsters that had altered their memories, as long as they left the island, memories could be restored.
Hands braced against the railing, Charles looked out toward the distant island; in the darkness, the figures of those strip-like monsters were very blurry.
They swayed their extended tentacles rhythmically from side to side like they were performing some kind of ritual, which, against the backdrop of darkness, appeared particularly horrifying.
While Charles watched, the smokestack of the Rat once again emitted black smoke, and the group slowly drifted away from the bizarre island.
It wasn't until dinnertime that, through Charles's explanation, all the crew members learned what had happened. They were shocked by the situation.
"My goodness, could unexplored islands really be this dangerous? No wonder the disappearance rate of exploration ships is so high."
"My memory was gone and then it came back? Captain, you wouldn't be pulling my leg, would you?"
After taking a sip of his soup, Charles coughed lightly, and the hubbub amongst the crew lowered.
After scanning the face of every person present, Charles said, "Let's all report our names and duties now, checking each other's memories to see if there are any inconsistencies."
That eerie island made him extra cautious; the island had silently made crew members disappear and even erased their memories, a force he found to be highly ominous.
"Bandage, position... first mate, assist the Captain and organize various work plans..., responsible for compiling cargo stowage plans, 12~24... the Helmsman."
"James, position Chief Engineer, responsible for maintaining the normal order of operation of the furnaces; as well as maintaining the propulsion systems and auxiliary equipment, boilers, and the lubrication cooling and fuel systems."
"Frey, position chef, in charge of the crew's meals."
"Deep, position sailor chief, responsible for guiding sailors in the maintenance and repair of anchoring, cabling, and loading equipment; and leading the sailors in painting, rigging, and high-altitude tasks."
"Walt, position sailor: execute steering duties, navigate watches, and the daily maintenance work of the deck department."
"Jack, position sailor: perform tasks such as handling cables, retracting gangways, and various technological jobs on the deck department."
"Anna, position ship doctor, responsible for treating the crew's diseases, as well as routine physical examinations."
After comparing with the memories in his mind and confirming that there were indeed eight pairs of footprints, Charles finally breathed a sigh of relief. He had indeed been overly concerned; the ordeal was finally over.