Chapter 647

Arthur stood at the very top of the cliff, pulling a rope to haul a basket of plump sea fish up via a pulley system; once the basket reached the top, Hal took it and began processing the raw fish.

He scraped off the scales, removed all internal organs, cleaned them thoroughly, then slit the fish open along the belly, flattened them out, and rubbed them repeatedly with the salt he had obtained earlier, finally hanging them on the newly erected drying rack.

The four rows of racks were now completely filled—salted fish, salted meat, semi-dried fiber ropes, and some woven fiber fabrics all swayed gently in the island's dusty sea breeze.

Shiler stood on the platform, looking up and catching Hal's gaze as he looked down while adjusting the pulley system; seeing Shiler awake, Hal waved and said, "Hey, Professor, good morning."

Shiler was about to speak when he heard a "sizzling" sound; he turned his head and saw Bruce sitting in a wooden basket resembling a cable car, ascending from below to the platform.

Shiler studied Bruce and asked, "What have you been doing? How did this place suddenly become an agricultural society overnight?"

"No, we haven't started planting anything yet, but I just found some crop seeds over there; from what I observed, the fruits of these shrubs are edible, and some produce a white sap similar to glue—if we start planting now, we might need them later."

Shiler glanced sideways at the cable car he had arrived in; Bruce had come from below, while the cave platform was elevated—clearly not powered by gravity—so Shiler asked, "Where did you get the power?"

Bruce shrugged casually, "Walk a little further along here, turn a corner, and there's a small waterfall on the cliff's side—perfect for a waterwheel. The power it generates isn't much, but it's enough to move a person along the cable."

Shiler crossed his arms and sighed, gazing out from the platform; the wild, primitive landscape was no longer so pure—at least the tangled mess of pulley lines proved it had escaped the Stone Age and entered a small-scale agrarian era.

"Oh, right, last night we built a glider—you can try it out—and we also finished setting up the salt pans and crystallization pools, plus built a few new large pots specifically for boiling salt."

"The Wanderer from Douluo"

"In the first half of the night, we emptied the fish traps and collected about six kilograms of sea fish, plus some shellfish and crabs; Hal boiled them all into paste overnight and stored it."

"In the second half of the night, we built a pulley system powered by the waterwheel, to transport goods across uneven terrain; though we have to switch lines and reattach cargo each time, it saves manpower."

"This morning, we finished hanging the salted meat and fish to dry; also, I plan to extract oil from fish fat to use as lubricant for tools."

"The foot-powered cargo cart—I've already built half of it; next is leveling the foundation, then laying the tracks."

Bruce pulled another basket of fish out from the cart that had carried him and said, "Next, I plan to fully automate food acquisition—turning the entire process, from fishing at sea to precise processing and sorted storage, into a system powered entirely by waterwheel energy."

"It might waste a lot of wood—simple wooden transmission structures may require many complex parts—but it doesn't matter; I found traces of possible mineral deposits among the rocks on the island's eastern side. If things go well, we'll start smelting iron soon…"

Shiler pressed his hand to his forehead, took a deep breath, and stared at the pulley lines threading through the trees and the vast stretch of tropical rainforest Bruce had already felled; he sighed deeply.

Shiler had wanted to use nature to stir Bruce's emotional side, not turn him into a tech-obsessed overachiever.

People always say Batman and Green Arrow share similar archetypes, but Batman has another trait Green Arrow lacks: no matter how barren the environment, he can build everything from scratch until he produces absurdly advanced technology.

In this regard, Iron Man and Batman are more alike—crafting a revolutionary suit from outdated, obsolete gear—isn't that basic genius?

Just as Shiler thought this, Bruce spoke:

"By the way, Arthur told me you were attacked by Mexican drug cartels. If so, I think we need to build some defensive fortifications on the island…"

"Wait, no—"

"This morning, I explored the whole island and found wreckage from a plane crash; I assembled a defense robot from its parts—it should already be operational. If enemies come…"

At that moment, Arthur shouted from above: "Oh no! I heard the orca say a boat is heading this way—aggressive, probably looking for trouble…"

Oliver arrived, still pale, his face grim: "It's probably the same cartel that attacked me—they're utterly insane; they wiped out an entire village on this island long ago…"

"When I was hiding and watching them, they heard me move; their first reaction was to shoot—if I hadn't dodged fast, I'd be dead by now."

Hal's gaze fell on Oliver's shoulder; hearing Oliver say they were drug cartels, he frowned, his expression darkening.

Among them, Hal had the healthiest routine; as a pilot, he needed to maintain peak physical condition and constant mental alertness—even though he was no longer a test pilot, he kept the habit.

So he avoided not just drugs, but also tobacco and alcohol; Hal strongly disliked addictive substances, believing they clouded his mind and caused errors when focus was critical.

Hearing Oliver say these cartels had slaughtered an entire village, Hal grew angry; staring at the boat and the armed drug dealers aboard, he instinctively took flight, ready to confront them.

But halfway up, he saw a black machine burst from the forest and unleash a barrage at the boat's hull; the vessel began sinking slowly, and the drug dealers panicked, leaping into the water.

Bruce had programmed the robot to avoid lethal force, but none of the drowning drug dealers realized that—when they hit the water, they saw a massive shadow.

A black-and-white figure shot toward them at speed; when the leader recognized the whale's silhouette, he actually sighed in relief—he knew it was an orca, and orcas rarely attacked humans.

Then he was bitten clean in half.

Watching the red stain spread across the sea, Arthur closed his eyes and focused; he heard the orca's low moan.

His face grew heavy; he turned to Shiler: "Remember what I said before? Orcas usually appear in pairs or pods—but the one that brought you here was alone. That's strange…"

Seeing the scene in the ocean, Shiler understood: orcas in the Gulf of Mexico often crossed paths with these drug cartels; though they made their living from trafficking, they likely hunted whales too—the profits were too high.

Indeed, Arthur spoke in a sorrowful tone:

"He's a young Ma Lei orca, just matured, about to leave his mother and live alone—but just as they prepared to part, they encountered a whaling ship…"

"His mother was killed by humans; he said that whaling ship was escorted by this very cartel…"

"Waste of energy," Bruce commented.

He didn't kill, but he had no intention of saving drowning whaling drug dealers—after his comment, he turned and walked back into the cave.

Hal flew back, his mood heavy; even though he couldn't communicate with fish, he could still hear the orca's mournful cry.

Landing, he sighed: "When I was in Haibincheng, I heard tales of whaling sailors—people called them heroes, claiming they conquered the strongest beasts on Earth…"

Hal shook his head, sighed again—clearly disapproving and disappointed—when Shiler stepped forward and patted his shoulder; Hal thought Shiler meant to comfort him, but heard him say:

"You used your power first, so you lost."

Hal covered his eyes—he'd forgotten that? Of course, using the Green Lantern power too easily led to this.

Just as he slumped in resignation, Bruce's voice came from inside the cave, where he stood beside Oliver:

"Your recovery is impressive—your wound's almost healed?"

"Yeah, I think it's amazing too; last night it hurt so bad I thought I'd passed out from pain, but this morning I looked…"

Oliver pulled up his shirt sleeve and stared at his shoulder—the wound was nearly gone; the bullet holes from the steel pellets and the infected, necrotic tissue had vanished entirely, save for the skin still regrowing.

Hal turned, glaring at Shiler; Shiler remained calm: "Maybe Oliver has a superpower—rapid healing. Is that rare? Don't you have one too?"

Hal glanced at Oliver's flushed, healthy complexion, snorted, and said, "Fine, you win this round, Doctor."

He walked inside, beginning to question Oliver about the cartel's specifics.

After breakfast, Arthur and Shiler went fishing at the shore; though they knew the wilderness survival vacation had been utterly ruined by Bruce's rapid tech upgrades, Arthur still wanted to savor the last moments of peace—and make one final attempt to see if he truly couldn't catch a single fish.

At the shore, they found a rock jutting from the water, used Arthur's handmade fishing rod and Bruce's fishing line, baited with the innards of small fish.

No sooner had Shiler cast his line than a shark's head broke the surface; both men froze on the rock. Arthur paused, then said:

"Don't panic—I can communicate with fish; let me sense what this shark's thinking… Oh, he wants to bite you."

"Do you even need to sense that?!!!"

Shiler angrily snatched up his rod and turned to leave—when he saw a dark shape on the distant horizon: an airplane.

As the plane drew closer, Shiler noticed a tiny human figure beneath it, holding up the aircraft with his hands.

Not only Shiler saw the plane—Bruce, chopping trees outside, saw it too; he calculated its flight path and landing point, then strode toward it.

When the plane landed, Shiler and Hal arrived; Clark set the aircraft down gently. Seeing everyone staring at him, Clark rubbed his hands and said:

"Don't look at me—I didn't come here on purpose. I'm just a delivery guy…"

Bruce suddenly had a bad feeling; he stepped back slightly—then a dark shadow "whooshed" and launched itself onto him.

A flock of seabirds erupted into the sky above the entire island; a piercing scream tore through the heavens:

"Dad—"

"—Dad!"