Chapter 347. Wuwa
Charles leaned against the colorful tree trunk with his eyes closed, arms folded, and brows knitted into a deep frown. The freakish Mudling's imitation of the Ropelings' behavior made him think of something—could there be a fearsome entity on the island forcing everyone to move like how the Ropelings did for them to survive?
Charles looked around and felt somewhat reassured upon seeing Lily's mice friends on the lookout. Even if there was such a fearsome entity, there was no way that entity could catch them off guard with the mice keeping tabs.
A few minutes later, Linda's voice echoed from the hollowed-out tree.
"Captain, you can come in," Linda said calmly, "He has regained some of his human instincts."
Charles went inside with the other crew members. The fire from their torches illuminated the surroundings, and they were astonished to find that the figure once covered in mud was now bare before them.
The Mudling with perfect facial features had unexpectedly turned out to be a male. However, the scene that astonished the crew wasn't the revelation of the Mudling's gender. It was the fact that he was in Linda's arms and had latched onto her breast as if he were an infant.
Linda remained unfazed even though everyone could see her breasts. She turned to Charles and calmly explained, "He has retained the basic survival instinct of rooting, all thanks to his memories of having been breastfed by his mother, but he has no language abilities. I conducted a simple test and discovered that his cognitive skills are similar to a three-year-old child."
"The cognitive skills of a three-year-old child? Can't humans communicate even at that age?" Charles asked.
Linda gently pushed the Mudling's head away and straightened her clothes. "It's not that simple. Dolphins exhibit the cognitive skills of a six-year-old child, but we still can't communicate with them."
"Wuwa..." For the first time, the Mudling moved despite being under everyone's line of sight. He ignored everyone's gaze and nudged Linda's chest desperately, seemingly looking for sustenance.
Linda walked briskly over to Planck and pulled a tin can out of the latter's backpack. Linda pried open the tin can with a dagger and handed it over to the Mudling. The Mudling grabbed the tin can and started sucking out the lard inside.
Charles pondered over how he could extract information from the Mudling. The fact that he was still alive after such a long time meant that he had to have gone all over the island. At least, the Mudling had to be aware of which places were dangerous or safe.
Charles looked around, and an idea struck him the moment his gaze landed on the murals. He swiftly pulled out a pen and a piece of paper before sketching something on the paper. Soon, a sketched shipwreck appeared on the paper.
The moment Charles placed the paper before the Mudling, he seemed captivated by the drawing, and his eyes were unwittingly transfixed on the shipwreck. His lovely amber eyes seemed to exude a hint of confusion and bewilderment as he placed the tin can down.
"Mr. Charles, I think he recognizes the ship!" Lily exclaimed while standing on Charles' shoulder.
Charles nodded lightly in agreement. It was a good thing that his method was working. Since words weren't working, he could attempt to communicate through pictures. Clearly, even a three-year-old could understand pictures, even though they couldn't quite express their understanding through words.
Charles started drawing once more. This time, he drew buildings in the same architectural style as the Foundation's buildings. He drew Laboratory 2, Laboratory 3, and the modern buildings of Newbound City. Charles drew anything that he thought might be on this island.
Soon, over a dozen pieces of paper were laid out before the Mudling, but the Mudling didn't give any positive reaction. He had ensconced himself in Linda's arms and ignored Charles' drawings. He even took glances at Lily perched on Charles' shoulder.
This is strange. The Foundation must have explored this island, so there's no way they didn't build any buildings here. Charles frowned in deep contemplation.
After a while, he took out another piece of paper and drew a variety of doors. He drew huge metal gates, arched double doors, rectangular doors, and even elevator doors.
The Pope had mentioned the discovery of a door, so Charles figured out that the Mudling might know something about it. However, Charles was disappointed to find that the Mudling didn't even glance at the sketches.
Instead, the Mudling's eyes were glimmering with curiosity as he reached out a finger toward Lily on his shoulder.
Charles smacked the Mudling's finger away. He felt disheartened; it was extremely exhausting to communicate with the Mudling. In fact, he found communicating with Tobba less exhausting than communicating with the Mudling.
Should we just give up and continue to explore the island? Charles thought about it but quickly dismissed the idea.
The Mudling had to have lived here for many years now, so they would be able to cut down their exploration time once they somehow extracted information from the Mudling.
"Captain, I think it's best if we start with something he's already familiar with," Linda said. She carried the Mudling over to the murals and began tracing the murals with her finger.
The portraits, the shipwrecks, and the tiny figures running away—the Mudling would utter something incomprehensible each time Linda's finger rested on any of the murals.
"Wait, stop!" Charles called out. Linda's finger was resting on the disembarking figures.
"Wuwa~" the Mudling muttered two syllables while staring at the disembarking figures who had come ashore with him.
"Yes, that's right! Where are the wuwas? Take us to them!" Charles repeatedly tapped on the disembarking figures. The murals depicted that a calamity had befallen the disembarking figures, but some of them had to have survived.
Charles' relentless tapping elicited a reaction from the Mudling. Holding Linda by the waist, he began nudging her toward the exit.
"Let's see where he's going to take us," Charles said, and he walked outside with his crew in tow. The trek in the woods didn't last long. Half an hour later, they found themselves standing before a dirt mound.
"Wuwa~" the Mudling pointed at the dirt mound.
Charles sighed in resignation. He ought to have known that they had perished. If they were still alive, the Mudling would have been capable of speech. After all, there would have been adults to take care of him.
"Let's dig the corpses out and see how they died," Charles ordered. The crew started to get busy. Fortunately, the ground was wet and soft, which made the digging quite easy for everyone.
Charles started pondering over their next step while staring at his crew members working busily to dig out the corpses. They had explored only a fraction of the island, and a thorough search was bound to take ten days or more.
Charles also judged that they would have to make a minimum of two supply runs back to the ship before they could completely search the island.
Honestly, Charles didn't like the idea of thoroughly exploring this island. The entire island felt ominous, and Charles couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding that had gripped his heart.
He felt like something bad would happen anytime soon.
"C-captain! Come here, quick!" Weister's frightened yell jolted Charles.
Charles emerged from his thoughts and rushed over to Weister.
"What's wrong?" Charles asked and looked down; his pupils constricted to the size of fine needles in an instant. Rather than bones, they found more than a dozen severed brown jute ropes!
Charles was reminded of the murals inside the hollowed-out tree and realized that he had made a mistake. He had assumed that only humans had disembarked the ship and had come ashore. Unfortunately, those Ropelings had disembarked and had come ashore as well!
In other words, the Ropelings weren't native to this island; they had come from the shipwreck, and they had been stuck here since then!
"Wuwa~" The Mudling poked his head out of Linda's embrace and pointed at the ropes in the ground. Then, under everyone's gaze, he raised his finger slowly to point at the colorful forest around them.
"Wuwa~" The Mudling pointed to the left, and then he pointed to the right before letting out the same two-syllables cry, "Wuwa~"
And then, like a machine gun, the Mudling rapidly jabbed with his finger in every cardinal direction. "Wuwa, wuwa, wuwa~!
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