Poisonous Snake Island.
Duncan appeared on the beach, shirtless, carrying a log. Beside his campfire was a pile of incredibly tough vines, and he had managed to tie them into a makeshift raft.
When it came to leaving here, Duncan actually already had a bold idea.
"But the rope still needs to be a little longer."
He didn't really bring many supplies. He had grown tired of eating the island's poisonous snakes. Duncan didn't believe he would starve to death at sea; if worse came to worst, he would dive into the ocean and take a few bites out of a shark or an orca.
But he still needed fresh water; no matter how strong his constitution, without enough fresh water, he would constantly fail his immunity judgments.
"Three ropes, that should be enough."
