When I finished eating, the campfire was still crackling, and the last piece of venison was roasting on a sharpened stick. The air was thick with the aroma of grilled meat, smoke, and the freshness of the tropical morning. I stretched, satisfied, and took a deep breath — full and recharged. It was time to get back to business.
"Everything needs to be moved to the boat," I muttered, wrapping the meat in broad green leaves to keep it from spoiling on the way. The leaves were moist and dense, perfect for retaining heat and prolonging the freshness of the meat. Tying the bundles with vines, I gathered them into a bundle.
The walk to the boat was short — it was still hidden in the thicket of trees, just as I had planned. After quickly loading everything inside, I took a look around. The morning sun was just rising, and the first rays were cautiously filtering through the leaves. The shops in the town were probably still closed, meaning I had a little time to gather more supplies from the jungle.
I headed back into the forest. Over the next two hours, I methodically explored the area. I stumbled upon several trees bearing wild fruit — bananas, mangoes, and some berries I had seen before in travel guides. Their taste was tangy but edible.
Not far from these trees, I also found several water sources. Fortunately, the water was clean enough, and I started filling my flasks, unsure when I'd be able to find fresh water again. I filled them to the brim, worried about having to go without fresh liquids for a while.
In the end, I filled almost two bags with nothing but fruit, glad that I wouldn't have to be so strict with my food rationing during the journey.
Of course, it was all perishable, especially the fruit. But that was the plan: I'd eat it all within the first few days, then switch to dry rations.
When I returned to the boat, I glanced at the worn ropes. They were in a pitiful state — the fibers had torn, and worn spots were visible, ready to snap at any moment.
"Now, I need to deal with the ropes," I said aloud, crouching down next to one of the ropes. The remnants of constantly securing the boat had caught up with me. These ropes could fail at the worst possible time, especially if I had to sail in strong currents or a storm.
I had, of course, considered the possibility that the rope could wear out... but I had only brought threads — just enough for patches. I hadn't even thought of a spare rope back then… — I cursed mentally, staring at the frayed fibers.
Not many options left. I'll have to cut one from somewhere. Or... find a warehouse, — the thought flashed in my mind, and I headed toward the port, taking the forest paths to avoid the main road.
The town was still asleep. Only a few merchants were hauling their carts toward the market, and the air smelled of the sea and fresh wood. I knew there was a warehouse at the port where supplies for ships were stored, especially before the arrival of the Tenryubito. That meant that's where I needed to be.
Getting closer, I saw a building with an old sign and a half-open door. Surprisingly, there was no guard — perhaps everyone was busy with preparations. I slipped inside, trying not to make a sound.
The shelves were loaded with boxes, barrels, and bundles. I quickly began scanning the area. And there it was. Freshly coiled rope. Thick, uniform — just what I needed. I grabbed a roll, carefully slung it over my shoulder… and then my gaze fell on a wooden box nearby.
What's this?.. — I thought, gently opening the lid. Inside were knives, hooks, fire-starting tablets, and... small cans. Provisions!
I couldn't resist. I quickly stuffed several cans into my pockets, and my arms were loaded like a hamster —
I need to go, — the thought flashed through my mind.
I snapped the lid shut and turned toward the exit. But then, from outside, I heard a door click — a muffled voice, footsteps. Someone was approaching.
I hid behind a tall crate, holding my breath. A few seconds later, the footsteps passed by — apparently, just an ordinary worker who hadn't peeked inside. I didn't check twice.
When I reached the shore, it became clear that I was safe and sound. My boat was still there, hidden among the trees, almost invisible. I checked the ropes, made sure everything was in order, and reattached them to the hull.
First, I decided to organize the food and water supplies. The provisions I had gathered were now a real treasure. Fruit, cans, water flasks — all of it would support me during the next leg of the journey. I carefully arranged everything in the boat, making sure not to forget anything important.
The next step was to address the ropes. I carefully replaced the worn-out sections, preparing everything for the continued voyage. Everything was going according to plan.
Now, I needed to clean the hold a bit to make it tidier, as it had gotten a little dirty during this time. There was no standing water in it, but dust, sand, and kitchen remnants had accumulated. I first took several large leaves from nearby trees and, using them, began wiping down the floor and corners. It was quite convenient, and the dirt came off easily.
It was already 9 a.m., — I thought, glancing at my watch. The sun was high in the sky, its rays brightly lighting up the sea, and the air had grown noticeably hot. Time was ticking — I needed to set off soon. I stood on the shore, watching as a massive ship appeared on the horizon. It was approaching quickly, its masts visible from a distance, and at the bow of the ship, there was a giant golden bear.
"Time," — I thought, wasting no time, and quickly activated the system to submerge the submarine. I didn't need much — just to lower it by a couple of meters. This would allow me to hide and move underwater, avoiding unnecessary attention.
My hand immediately found its way into the compartment, turning into a spring. I clenched and unclenched my fist, making it rotate the propeller. The speed at which the boat could move was surprisingly good — about 10 knots. This was much faster than on the surface, and it gave me the necessary flexibility for maneuvering.
At this speed, it took me only about 10 minutes to cover the distance, I thought, carefully watching through the periscope as the fishing boat drew closer to the massive ship. Every moment was crucial. I accelerated, increasing the submarine's speed, preparing for the next phase.
Suddenly, there was an explosion — a bright flash of fire on the horizon. The boat was on fire. I knew this moment was approaching. I pressed the control levers, not wasting any time, continuing to move forward, even though it was already clear what had happened. Another explosion, and I understood — as expected, the Tenryubito had decided to finish off the ship.
The speed increased, and the submarine headed toward the burning wreckage. The shadow on the horizon disappeared as I got closer. I couldn't be seen here — everything happened quickly and efficiently. Hiding underwater, I raised the submarine and opened the hatch, carefully surveying the spot where the fishing boat had once been.
I saw the wreckage scattered across the water, and among it, Sabō, struggling in the flames. He was alive, but his condition was clearly dire. This guy had willpower — even after everything that had happened, he kept fighting for his life.
I recalled how Dragon had taken him that night when everything had just begun, and how he had fought for survival all day, semi-conscious and exhausted.
Banē Banē, but I grabbed — I extended my hand, reaching far enough, and grabbed him with such force that it felt almost like squeezing iron. My arm pulled back, and the weight instantly reduced the recoil, preventing me from being thrown out of the submarine.
Sabō was nearly powerless, but his will and determination never left him. Even in this condition, he didn't let go of his fight. I closed the hatch and took the submarine to a safe depth. My gaze was focused — he was still alive, but in what condition! His wounds were deep, and his body was exhausted to the limit.
"I need to patch him up," I thought, pulling out bandages and gauze. Time was of the essence, so I quickly began assessing his wounds, trying to determine which ones were the most dangerous.
I carefully started bandaging him, closing the bleeding wounds, and noticed how he gritted his teeth, barely holding back the pain.
"This is going to hurt a bit," I said, lifting the flask with alcohol. He tried to stifle a gasp as I poured the alcohol onto the deepest wound. As I cleaned the wound, his face contorted with pain, but he didn't make a sound, only tightening his fists. In these moments, his willpower was truly astonishing.
Finishing the bandages quickly and efficiently, I glanced at his worn-out face. He was semi-conscious.
"We need to get out of here," I thought again, leaving Sabō on the bed and moving to the controls. If the ship departed, I wouldn't be able to stay hidden beneath the boat, which meant I had to act fast. Time was ticking, and every second needed to be used wisely.
I activated the submarine's system to submerge it. It didn't need to go very deep — just half a meter to remain undetected. But more importantly, I had to secure the submarine in a safe place without drawing unnecessary attention.
The ship was scheduled to depart in an hour, and if I didn't secure the submarine now, I'd be forced to act in a panic, which would complicate everything. Once the submarine was stable on the seabed, I relaxed a bit, but the tension didn't leave me. I had to keep in mind that the surface was boiling right now — unloading, preparing to sail.