Charles gripped the bandage tightly and pulled out the black knife embedded in his leg, using it as a machete to chop at the branches hanging with bandages ahead of him.

  The spiky branches were easily severed, but the cut ends were empty.

  The two ventured deeper into the forest, and soon Charles spotted others caught in the bandages, a scene that shocked him.

  Before him stood a bizarre, stunted tree, its long, spiny trunk entwined around a boy’s body. The unconscious human dangled in mid-air like a piece of wax meat, swaying gently as if he were a fruit of this strange tree.

  There was not just one “fruit”; the tree was laden with them.

  “Get them down!” Charles tightened his grip on the black knife and charged forward.

  A boy fell to the ground with a pained grunt, slowly waking up. He looked at Charles, who was frantically chopping at the tree, his head spinning. “Who are you? Have you seen my captain?”

  Charles didn’t have time to answer. He swung the knife wildly, rescuing everyone, but this time, the hollow branches contained something—short, quivering pink tentacles fell from the cross-section.

  “Crack, crack, crack…” The stunted tree suddenly moved, and everyone turned their gaze toward it.

  The rust-red trunk began to crack open, and several tangible gazes shot out from the crevices, sweeping over Charles.

  A thought flashed through Charles’s mind: “Is this thing alive?”

  The tree's movements grew more pronounced, and Charles could see the twisted flesh and that yellow-brown eyeball inside the cracks, along with the raging fury within it.

  “Run!!” The living people instantly sprang into action. Even if they couldn’t grasp the situation, human instinct drove them to flee.

  They had barely taken a few steps when a loud crash erupted—the stunted tree exploded, and twisted, fleshy creatures crawled out.

  At first glance, they resembled black-haired starfish, but upon closer inspection, the “hair” turned out to be dense, dark, elongated tentacles, with an orange-yellow single eye and a mouth full of fangs at the center of their bodies.

  The monsters opened their beastly mouths, writhing their tentacles as they madly pursued their fleeing prey.

  Fortunately, Charles had cleared a path, and the distance between them was still increasing.

  “Crack, crack, crack~” All the surrounding trunks trembled and cracked open. It was as if Charles and the others had triggered some mechanism, awakening various grotesque creatures from their slumber, stretching their nauseating, fleshy appendages.

  They swayed, emitting piercing shrieks that turned the entire island into a hellish nightmare.

  Sinister gazes filled with malice swept over the group, sending chills down everyone’s spines and stiffening their limbs.

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  “Faster! Go faster!!” Charles urged as he helped the boy escape.

  They had been running for a while, but the situation was growing increasingly dire. It wasn’t just the writhing flesh behind them; even the strange tree ahead began to shake.

  At that moment, the writhing tentacles formed a large net—they were surrounded!

  In a moment of desperation, Charles suddenly remembered something. He reached for his waist and felt a hard object—it was the explosives he had brought!

  “Boom!!” Flesh splattered, and the blocked path opened once again.

  The explosives helped clear a way for everyone, but as the explosives dwindled, the expressions of the group grew grim.

  Just as Charles had one last pack of explosives left, the sound of waves crashing against the shore reached them—the exit was just ahead!!

  Everyone understood what this meant, and their pace quickened further, desperately squeezing every ounce of potential from their bodies.

  The last pack of explosives was ignited and thrown. The hard ground was finally replaced by soft sand. They made it out.

  Seven people sprinted toward the wooden boat by the shore, with the monstrous flesh trailing closely behind.

  In his peripheral vision, Charles caught a glimpse of a golden flash—it was the statue of Fortan he had previously thrown down.

  Charles took a few quick steps, picked up the statue, and jumped onto the boat. The others frantically paddled, finally returning to the sea before the flesh monsters could catch up.

  The monsters seemed afraid of the seawater, retreating as soon as they made contact.

  Once the group was safely back aboard the Rat, they finally exhaled in relief, collapsing to the ground, panting like exhausted dogs.

  Though every muscle in his body protested, Charles endured the pain and stood up. The danger wasn’t over; they needed to leave the island.

  “Chief engineer, fire up the boiler! Sailors, weigh anchor! First mate, take the helm! We’re leaving this cursed place.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Seeing the crew quickly following his orders, Charles felt a twinge of surprise, sensing something was off.

  He quickly sifted through his memories and was astonished to find that all the crew members had returned, and he could recall their names.

  It seemed that whether it was the island or those monsters, they had altered memories, but as long as they left the island, their memories could be restored.

  Bracing himself against the ship’s railing, Charles gazed toward the distant island. In the darkness, the monstrous flesh appeared blurry.

  They extended their tentacles, swaying rhythmically, as if performing some ritual, looking eerily horrifying under the cover of darkness.

  As Charles watched, the Rat’s smokestack belched out black smoke once more, and the group slowly drifted away from the bizarre island.

  It wasn’t until mealtime that, under Charles’s explanation, all the crew members learned what had happened, and they were all shocked by the situation.

  “My God, is the uncharted island really that dangerous? No wonder the disappearance rate of exploration ships is so high.”

  “I lost my memory and then got it back? Captain, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

  After taking a sip of soup, Charles cleared his throat, and the chatter quieted down.

  After scanning each crew member’s face, Charles said, “Everyone, report your names and positions, and check each other’s memories for any inconsistencies.”

  The eerie island made him wary; it stealthily caused crew members to disappear and could erase their memories. Such power made him feel deeply uneasy.

  “Bandage, position… First mate, assisting the captain and organizing various work plans… responsible for drafting cargo loading plans, 12 to 24… helmsman.”

  “James, position: Chief engineer, responsible for maintaining the normal operation of the boiler; also maintaining the propulsion system and auxiliary equipment, boilers, lubrication, cooling, and fuel.”

  “Freddy, position: Cook, responsible for the crew’s meals.”

  “Deep, position: Boatswain, responsible for guiding sailors in the maintenance and repair of anchors, cables, and loading equipment; leading sailors in painting, rigging, and high-altitude work.”

  “Walter, position: First sailor, executing steering, navigation watch duties, and daily deck maintenance.”

  “Jack, position: Second sailor, executing line handling, ladder operations, and various deck tasks.”

  “Anna, position: Ship’s doctor, responsible for treating crew illnesses and conducting routine check-ups.”

  After cross-referencing with his memories and finding no discrepancies, Charles finally sighed in relief. He had indeed overthought things; it was all finally over.