「Ten minutes later, in the stairwell between decks.」
"You're quite the opportunist." The exploration team captain led the two crewmen the captain had forcibly awakened. He gave Shi Ming a knowing look, his voice laced with faint mockery. "To take down these two pieces of trash so easily... you've definitely got some skills. If you manage to survive, you might even get to be one of my subordinates."
"It would be my honor."
"Heh. Survive first, then we'll talk."
Shi Ming understood the captain's unspoken message perfectly. Exploring New Island was an extremely risky endeavor. In the world as it was now, unexplored islands were treasure troves—rich in resources, sometimes even home to unique artifacts... But they could also be infested with powerful, mutated sea beasts and pose unimaginable dangers.
Based on past data, the survival rate was less than 30%.
For a job with such a high-risk factor, not even the exploration team was willing to gamble with their lives. Typically, the "talent" was sent in as the vanguard. Only after they confirmed it wasn't too dangerous would the exploration team go ashore to search for the resources the drifting ship required.
The slaves were nothing more than cannon fodder sent to clear the path.
Shi Ming didn't mind. 'Even if I really do end up as cannon fodder,' he thought, 'I have the confidence to go down in a blaze of glory and send this entire drifting ship a grand finale of a cannonball in return.'
Besides, his personal cheat was still recovering.
Before long, the four of them reached the slave quarters on the ship's lowest deck.
He pushed the door open.
Of the twenty people who were originally in the dark room, only eight were left. Nine bodies from the storm had already been accounted for, but two other slaves had vanished. They were most likely dead. Perhaps they had lost their value as laborers, had a few holes poked in them, and were thrown directly into the sea. By now, they were nothing more than food for the fish.
As for the eight remaining slaves, after a brief respite and a single steamed bun each, they had regained some of their spirit.
"Listen up, all of you. From now on, you're all being drafted into the 'Vanguard Team.' And he is your acting team leader, responsible for supervising the exploration work that follows."
The slaves' heads all swiveled toward Shi Ming, their eyes filled with envy and a measure of fear.
The exploration team captain turned his head to look at Shi Ming.
"In one hour, you're to take them to the island. Your job is to scout for resources and check for potential dangers. I know you're a smart guy and you've got a few tricks up your sleeve. I hope you seize this opportunity and perform well. A promise from the captain isn't something just anyone gets. If you complete this mission successfully, you might actually be able to shed your status as a slave."
The captain took a bundle of supplies from the pouch on his belt.
Because he had been escorted to the captain's quarters, Shi Ming had missed the earlier food handout.
This was his "compensation," or perhaps, his "reward."
"I bet you've never eaten this well, have you? Eat up. You work better on a full stomach."
The exploration team captain turned and left the dark room, slamming the decaying wooden door shut with a CLANG. The oppressive gloom once again flooded the cramped space. Fortunately, the room's single energy-saving lamp remained lit, lending a sliver of light to the dim interior.
Two packs of crackers, a can of food, and a bottle of water.
Having not eaten for a full day and night, even with a body made of iron, he was starting to feel hungry. He polished off one pack of crackers in a few bites, then picked up the heavy can and, without a second thought, opened it right there in the dim room.
POP.
An alluring aroma exploded like a bomb, instantly filling the cramped space.
This wasn't some vegetarian fare; it was a can of rich, greasy, and intensely fragrant stewed beef—a relatively rare commodity. The smell alone was enough to make the mouths of many slaves water uncontrollably.
For a moment, the sound of gulping saliva rose and fell, creating a bizarre symphony.
Shi Ming, however, wasn't afraid of anyone trying to take it from him.
He was terrifyingly strong now; he could easily handle twenty men with their level of combat strength.
'Of course, I'm not eating this here just to show off or flaunt my new privilege as team leader—all that is meaningless. We're about to land on the island, and I need to be in peak condition. In this kind of environment, my own strength is the only thing I can rely on.'
'What kind of idiot has supplies and doesn't use them? Fight on an empty stomach? That's just stupid.'
RUMBLE, RUMBLE...
The contrast was cruel. The slaves, who had just eaten a single steamed bun, suddenly felt even hungrier. But not one of them dared to make a move. They could only lower their heads in silence, inhaling the tantalizing scent of meat and fantasizing about eating such a delicacy themselves.
Some of them hadn't tasted meat in years. A few even had a strange thought: if they could just eat one can of beef, they could die happy.
But sadly, some lives were probably worth less than a single can of beef.
...
Shi Ming ate until he was about seventy percent full.
He casually tossed the empty can at his feet and began to center himself. 'I can't count on these slaves for the upcoming exploration of New Island,' he thought. 'A bunch of men who've been starving for days, then fed a single steamed bun... I'll be lucky if they don't slow me down. How could I possibly rely on them?'
'If we run into danger, I'll abandon them without a second thought.'
'This "slave team leader" title? Heh. No one's taking that seriously.'
As he was resting his mind, he suddenly noticed a bald slave with a scar on his forehead staring at him. No, not at him—at the empty can by his feet.
"Leader... uh..."
The bald slave's gaze was intense, his eyes filled with longing.
Shi Ming knew what the slave wanted. He sighed to himself and casually kicked the can over in the man's direction.
The slave was overjoyed. He scrambled over and snatched up the can, which still had some broth in it, as if it were a priceless treasure. The other slaves looked on with envy and regret, cursing themselves for not being as quick-witted.
The bald slave was about to put the can to his lips and start slurping when he seemed to remember something.
He paused hesitantly, stuck out his tongue just to lick the lid, then took the can and passed it to another slave—one who was grimy and had a vacant, unfocused stare.
"Here. Tastes good. For you."
...
...
...
After a long moment of silence, Shi Ming reached into his shirt and pulled out the half-eaten, moldy, misshapen, stinking steamed bun.
A man had already died over this half of a steamed bun.
He tossed the half-bun over to them.
'It's obvious,' Shi Ming thought. 'This grimy slave didn't get any food during the handout; he looks like he's about to starve to death. Maybe the overseers missed him, or maybe someone else stole his share. Either way, a man in his condition will just be a liability on the island.'
"Thank you, Leader! Thank you!"
The bald slave was so emotional he looked ready to kneel, but Shi Ming just waved a dismissive hand and closed his eyes, wanting only a moment of peace to rest.
Inside the dark room, there was no sound other than the faint noise of chewing and the distant wash of the waves.