Despite the unexpected encounter, Chuck had achieved his goal. After the relentless harassment, the goat flock had finally returned to their original territory, wandering about with their usual indifferent expressions. Although their numbers had been cut in half and a few were old or injured, they would at least be free from natural predators for a long time—aside from mother nature herself.
To avoid startling them again, Chuck took a low-profile detour, heading back toward the stone terrace. However, his mind remained restless.
Throughout the trek, one question plagued him: How could he fight a bird like that?
Truth be told, Chuck wasn't sure. The creature wasn't just massive; its ability to soar gave it an absolute tactical advantage. Unless Chuck could master a powerful long-range attack—something with the punch and precision of a modern sniper rifle—he would remain helpless. Otherwise, the only outcome of a confrontation would be getting snatched up for a high-altitude bungee jump without a cord or being carried to the summit to be eaten alive.
Even with his "cheat" workbench, he had no idea how to develop such weaponry. Walking along the rocky shore, he shook his head with a bitter smile. Knowing there was something on this island he couldn't beat—at least not yet—irked him. But it also ignited his competitive drive.
He couldn't win now, but that didn't mean he wouldn't in the future. With the workbench, his potential for growth was limitless. Fortunately, while the giant bird was terrifying, it didn't seem inclined to leave its volcanic territory. For now, the volcano wasn't on his immediate itinerary; the western plains were the logical next step for his "ordered" exploration.
Yet, his brow furrowed deeper. Though he hadn't seen it yet, the "boss" of the plains likely wasn't a pushover either. He needed to plan carefully.
He arrived home just in time for lunch. Due to the morning's events, Chuck was visibly distracted at the table. Most of the women noticed his unusual silence but didn't dare ask. Only Julia and Janet exchanged a knowing, flickering glance.
The meal passed in a somber atmosphere. Afterward, Chuck packed his gear again. With the greenhouse finished, Julia and Janet had already tilled the soil and planted the rare herbs Chuck had collected, leaving spaces as he had instructed. Now, it was time to fetch those mulberry trees and wild silkworms from the jungle.
As he pushed open the door to leave, he found Janet standing outside, her arms crossed beneath her heavy breasts. Seeing him, the mature Western mare stepped forward, patted his arm, and gestured toward the deserted slope nearby.
Chuck followed her. Once they were far enough from the house, Janet stopped and turned to him.
"Hey, I've wanted to say something for a while." To Chuck's surprise, her expression wasn't her usual teasing smirk. "I know you're a man who takes responsibility seriously, but sometimes, you don't have to carry everything on your shoulders."
A flicker of genuine concern appeared in her beautiful eyes. She reached out and gently stroked his hair. "When something happens, don't keep it all inside. You have me, and you have them, don't you?"
With those words, she opened her arms and pulled Chuck's head into her vast, soft embrace. Chuck felt his face smothered by the mountain of her breasts. He took a deep breath, savoring the intoxicating feminine scent.
Damn, this is the good stuff. Every man needed a pair of tits to bury his face in occasionally.
He realized his distracted state at lunch had been misinterpreted as depression. While encountering a near-invincible foe wasn't exactly a cause for celebration, Chuck wasn't a coward who shrank from difficulty; it only fueled his resolve. He had just been crunching numbers in his head.
Janet finally released him, gently pinching his ears with a maternal, tender smile. "Feeling better, little guy?"
Chuck raised an eyebrow and decided to explain. "I wasn't actually upset, but you're right. I'll discuss things more with everyone from now on. I'll tell you all at dinner tonight."
"Good." Janet's mature face lit up with a pleased smile. She let go of his ears and suddenly stood on her tiptoes, pressing a swift, unexpected kiss to his lips.
As she pulled away, a trace of lust finally flickered in her eyes. She bit her lip. "And don't forget... Mommy and you have big things to do tonight." She emphasized the words "big" and "do" with unmistakable intent.
Back in the jungle, Chuck quickly found the small grove of mulberry trees. Protected by the surrounding canopy, the trees and silkworms were unharmed by the storm.
Since it was still early, he didn't harvest them immediately. Instead, he pushed deeper into the tropical woods along a path he hadn't taken before, cranking his "Master Botanist" perception to the maximum.
This time, his search was more meticulous, and the rewards were far greater. Aside from two more dipterocarp trees and a cluster of wild sweet potatoes, he discovered two new plants of immense value.
The first was a peculiar fruit tree with a thick, dark brown trunk that shimmered with an oily texture. Its fruit was green, round, and looked somewhat like a coconut but with a textured skin. Chuck climbed the tree and peeled one open, only to be amazed.
Beneath the green skin was a flesh with the texture of heavy cream, the color of mayonnaise, emitting a faint, sweet aroma. He took a bite and was even more surprised. The taste was solid yet soft—less like a fruit and more like a cooked sweet potato or eggplant.
Jackpot. For Chuck, common wild fruits were fine, but they weren't staples. Starchy foods like sago, sweet potatoes, and taro were his true favorites. He plucked two to bring back to Julia for identification. If they were viable, he'd transplant them to provide a steady supply of "bread fruit."
The second discovery required no identification. That sharp, pungent, clear scent was unmistakable.
Wild black pepper vines.
Chuck had to admit that while he was grateful for his life—plenty of meat, staples, and women to cook for him—the flavor profile was still lacking compared to modern cuisine. It wasn't because Yitong or Julia lacked skill; they just lacked spices.
In the Middle Ages, pepper was used as currency by royalty. It is the undisputed king of spices. Its unique aroma could strip the gaminess from goat and beef while elevating the meat to another level. For Chuck's group, which currently relied on goat meat, this was a revolutionary discovery.
He could already imagine Yitong's reaction. She'd probably be so excited she'd start spraying milk on the spot. He dug up the vines along with their roots and continued westward.
Three hours later, he cleared the dense jungle. The breeze from the plains hit his face, and the distant lake came into view. He paused, remembering something. Turning south, he saw the low stone wall—the cave where he had first fought Valentina and where he had said goodbye to Tang Yumeng.
Resources are plentiful here... is that woman still alive? He wasn't deeply invested in her fate, but since he was here, he figured he'd check in.
When he reached the cave, his brow furrowed. The surrounding brush was unchanged from his last visit, save for some storm-blown debris. Had she not ventured out once in all these days?
A faint chill of premonition touched him. He stepped into the cave. It was spacious, with two grass beds and the cold embers of a fire. The fire looked days old. He jumped down a small ledge and exited through the back of the cave, finding himself in a narrow bay flanked by rock walls.
The waves crashed against the reefs. Chuck walked forward and knelt. He picked up a pair of worn-out straw sandals. He recognized them instantly.
Every question he had was answered. He felt a brief moment of reflection, but nothing more. He placed the sandals back where he found them. Though it was the first time he had dealt with this on the island, he was mentally prepared. He had cheated death too many times to be naive. He was powerful, but he was a man, not a god who could control the hearts and minds of others.
He could protect those close to him and give them a good life. As for the rest... honestly, he didn't give a fuck.
Returning to the mulberry trees, he began the harvest. He laid mulberry leaves at the bottom of a clay pot and carefully gathered the wild silkworms one by one. After securing about twenty worms, he used his bronze shovel to dig up eight wild mulberry trees.
As he looked at the grey-brown worms wriggling in the pot, he frowned. He remembered silkworm projects from school. These wild worms were small and agile compared to the fat, white domestic ones he knew. They were clearly adapted to evade predators.
Wild silk was notoriously weak. If he wanted quality fabric, he would have to breed and domesticate them.
Then, a sudden thought struck him. "Wait..."