Chapter 81: Skull Island on the Tip of the Tongue
Upon hearing this, Little Bear was instantly excited, his eyes shining with anticipation.
He let out a roar at Kong and leapt forward, charging straight at him.
The two titans were immediately locked in combat.
Li Changsheng swung the vine in his hand with sudden force; it danced through the air like a living serpent, emitting a sharp, whistling sound.
Smack!
The vine struck Kong’s backside with precision, producing a dull thud.
Hiss! That hurt!
Kong’s movements faltered; he shoved Little Bear aside, rubbing his bruised rump with both paws.
Smack!
Another blow.
Kong jumped, attempting to dodge, but found the vine relentless, impossible to escape. He turned to Li Changsheng in shock, disbelief flickering in his enormous eyes.
“Little Bear, hold him down!”
“Got it!”
Neither man nor bear showed any mercy; with a few quick moves, they pinned Kong.
“Do you yield?”
A roar in reply.
Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack!
Whimpering.
After a long while, Kong—the once invincible king of the forest—now lay prostrate on the ground, his face full of frustration and gloom.
His gaze was filled with disbelief, as if questioning, “How can this be?”
Li Changsheng and Little Bear sat nearby, watching Kong and laughing heartlessly.
Little Bear strutted over to Kong, pounding his chest with both fists. In the past, Kong would always show off after thrashing him; now the tables had turned.
Kong sat up, his massive frame trembling like a child deprived of candy. His eyes wandered from sky to hands, as if pondering, “How could I lose when I’m so strong?”
He tried to stand, wobbling like a drunken old man.
After a few steps, Kong sat back down with a deep sigh.
Li Changsheng couldn’t help but laugh; the scene was simply too absurd.
Little Bear didn’t gloat, instead taking the roasted meat from the side and tossing a large chunk to Kong.
Kong cast him a disdainful glance, shoving the meat aside in disgust.
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Two against one, no honor—Kong would never eat food offered with such contempt!
“Eat it or don’t!” Little Bear snorted, then tossed a piece to Li Changsheng, who took it and bit off a hearty chunk.
The aroma of grilled meat wafted through the air.
Kong sniffed, drooling everywhere, but still refused to eat, stubborn as a child.
Li Changsheng found it amusing; he actually had a good impression of Kong, and after all, in the movies, Kong was loyal and true-hearted.
Just not very smart.
He stood up, dragged over a huge piece of meat, and threw it in front of Kong.
Li Changsheng feigned anger, pointing from the meat to Kong: “Eat! Will you eat or not? If not, I’ll deal with you!”
Kong shrank away; the “vine whip” had left a deep scar on his psyche—his rear still swollen.
Unable to win a fight, he picked up the meat with resignation and bit into it as if facing his doom.
What madness!
If Kong had a human vocabulary, he’d surely be cursing now.
But as the grilled meat entered his mouth, Kong’s eyes suddenly brightened.
What was this? Sweet and spicy!
He’d never made fire, so had no idea this was roasted meat, seasoned no less.
He swallowed a mouthful, then eyed the remaining meat eagerly.
Li Changsheng chuckled.
Little Bear didn’t prolong the drama and tossed the rest of the meat to Kong—it had all been prepared for him anyway.
Kong hesitated at first, but seeing no objection from Li Changsheng, grew bolder.
Still, one hind leg was clearly not enough.
Li Changsheng simply started another fire. Man, bear, and ape gathered around the flames, grilling meat together.
...
Morning fights, noon barbecue, afternoon—he gained a mount: Kong.
That was Li Changsheng’s day.
The days to come were much simpler.
By day, Li Changsheng usurped Kong’s perch, sitting to watch the sunrise.
Little Bear on the left, Kong on the right—two colossal guardians flanking him.
After taking in the vast scenery of Skull Island, he’d sit on Kong’s shoulder, and together with his two companions, leave the barren highlands, cross the steaming jungle, and sweep through the lowlands.
Kong moved swiftly across the island, intimately familiar with its terrain, leading Li Changsheng to the most secret corners.
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The geography of Skull Island was becoming clear in Li Changsheng’s mind.
Whenever hunger struck, he’d hunt a dinosaur, catch a terror bird, fish for a saber-toothed tigerfish, and gather unknown wild fruits.
There was never any need to worry about food.
Still, Li Changsheng avoided exhausting resources, eating only one or two of each species to prevent damaging Skull Island’s ecosystem.
From rich meats to exotic fruits, the food was packed with powerful energy and nutrients, fueling his body and magic without end.
In less than a week, Li Changsheng’s physique grew ever more robust, his muscles more defined, his strength steadily increasing.
All the eating had made him stronger, and his magical power had also grown.
Li Changsheng could now be considered a stage 2.8 G-creature.
He only needed an opportunity to break through to stage 3 G-creature, becoming even more formidable.
Stage 3 G-creatures, after all, were the pinnacle in the world of Biohazard games.
He remembered G3 William, almost angelic in fallen grandeur—his body tougher, more eyes and claws.
Yet Li Changsheng followed a wholly different path.
What would a magic-side G3 look like?
...
Elsewhere, Anderhorn, Carl, and Carl’s crew were now surrounded by natives on a hillside.
They had originally come to film a movie, but Carl quarreled with a native girl, leading to the crew being besieged and several members killed.
Fortunately, a few sailors had accompanied them, armed with guns; after shooting several natives, they managed to frighten off the rest.
Yet, inexplicably, the deaths only provoked the natives further; they gathered below the hill, preparing traps.
Carl and his group were suffering greatly.
Anderhorn looked at Carl, full of resentment.
If not for this damned director insisting on filming on the island, they wouldn’t have been captured by the natives.
They regretted not listening to that Chinese man, remembering how Li Changsheng had warned everyone before departure—there could be natives and all sorts of dangers on the island.
Now they rued the day.
“Looking at me won’t help. We have to save ourselves...” Carl’s deep voice hung in the air.
Save themselves, but how?
The people on the ship had no idea they were trapped.
Escaping would surely cost lives.
No one responded; after two days on the hillside, their clothes were tattered, bodies covered in grime and wounds, and with long hunger, they lacked even the strength to speak.
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