Chapter 41

Chapter 41

"Kun, where are you going with that water pouch?" The gaunt woman stared at the dark-skinned boy, a sense of dread settling in her chest.

"I was just going to play with Corey," the boy stammered, his gaze darting away nervously.

The woman scrutinized him again, her eyes widening in anger. "No, you're planning to go to the Misty Sea. That place is crawling with crabs—are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Caught, Kun pouted and wiped his eyes, turning his face toward the far side of the bed. "But if I don’t go, we won’t have any food. You haven’t been able to nurse my little sister for days."

The woman’s grip on the bed weakened. Following Kun’s gaze, she looked at her daughter beside her. Whether it was her imagination or not, the baby’s plump cheeks looked thinner. But the thought of the shoreline made her grit her teeth and shake her head.

"No, you can’t go there. Your sister is three months old—she’ll be fine with gruel. I’ll chew it well before feeding her."

Kun blinked, his nose stinging even more. That gruel was so gritty it scraped their throats. How could his tiny sister swallow it, even if it was chewed? "Even if it’s not for her... I’m starving too. I need real food. Don’t try to stop me—I’m going no matter what. I’m fast. I’ll be fine!"

As if afraid his mother would stop him, Kun tightened the rope in his hand and darted out the door.

Still weak from childbirth and malnourished, the woman tried to chase after him, but her legs gave out the moment her feet touched the ground. By the time she reached the doorway, the boy was long gone.

"Kun, can’t you just wait a little longer? Your father’s already out working for food!" Her desperate shout didn’t slow the boy—it only made him run faster.

Tears streamed silently down her face as she watched the door banging in the wind. She knew Kun wasn’t a "reckless" child. He was risking this for them.

Swiping at his tears, Kun ran toward the coast. Once his mother’s voice faded, his pace slowed.

He needed to save his strength to push the boat out to the fishing grounds.

But when he saw the shoreline swarming with crabs, his courage faltered. Thinking of his mother and sister, he clenched his teeth and ran like the wind.

The crabs, emboldened by their numbers and fearsome appearance, snapped their claws threateningly, as if ready to tear the boy apart.

No matter how careful he was, his feet inevitably stepped on them—or got pinched. A crab’s pincer clamped his leg, and Kun lost his balance, face-planting into the sand.

He tried to get up, but the shifting sand pulled him down. Crabs quickly crawled over his hands and body, their claws biting into his flesh. Weak with hunger, he lacked the strength to fight back.

Even if he didn’t die here, he might drown at sea. But at least his death would mean more food for his family.

As his vision darkened under the swarm of crabs, Kun squeezed his eyes shut, tears of despair streaking his face. "Mother... Father... Little sister... Goodbye. I hope you won’t grieve for me too long."

"So many crabs! Jackpot! Hurry, gather them up!"

"Be gentle—live ones sell for more!"

"Hahaha, after this haul, I’ll get myself a wife and start a family!"

"Stop talking and work faster! If the fast crews show up, we’ll get less!"

The cheerful voices seemed unreal to Kun—perhaps the last sounds before meeting the gods.

But as the voices grew louder and clearer, a surge of strength rushed through him. His parched throat moistened with blood, allowing him to croak out a plea.

"H-Help... me..." Kun raised his hand as high as he could, mustering all his strength to call for rescue.

"Hey, Mark, did you hear something?" A man bending over with a large bamboo clamp paused, looking around.

"What? Paul, are you hearing things? It’s just us here—there’s no sound," another man retorted, snatching the crab from the clamp and urging him to hurry.

Just as Paul was about to resume work, he spotted something moving in that crab swarm in the distance—something with crabs clinging to it.

Paul took a closer look and, recognizing it as a hand, quickly called to the man beside him, "Mark, look! That seems to be a person."

As he spoke, Paul carefully kicked aside the crabs in front of him and hurried toward the pit.

Mark followed his gaze and was startled, immediately rushing over as well. "Who is this? Didn’t even bother with proper gear before coming here to catch crabs."

Paul reached the pit first and, seeing it was just a kid, quickly reached out to pull him up.

Mark grabbed handfuls of sand from the ground and hurled them at the crabs stuck to Kun.

Dangling in the air, the loose crabs plopped off Kun one after another.

"Poor kid, look at all these wounds." Paul and Mark winced at Kun’s countless wounds. If they hadn’t learned protective measures from the church beforehand, they’d probably be in the same state as Kun.

Kun’s tears fell from the pain, but once he was carried to a crab-free spot by the strangers, he choked back his sobs.

He didn’t want to cause trouble—he needed to thank them properly and not cry. That’s what Kun told himself, but the pain made it impossible to respond. Just holding back his tears took all his willpower.

"Go home quickly. After washing up, have your family apply this to your wounds." Paul pulled a small wooden box from his leather satchel and pressed it into Kun’s hands before the boy could refuse or thank him, then turned back to catching crabs.

If it weren’t for the fact that this place was a goldmine, he wouldn’t have been so generous with his precious medicine.

Tch! The boy’s thin frame and numerous wounds didn’t make him feel pity—everyone had to endure such hardships at some point!

Kun clutched the wooden box, staring at their busy backs, bewildered.

What was this thing? Could it really heal his wounds?

And why were these two catching crabs? All shell, no meat, and mean as hell. Who would even want to eat them?

"Hey... y’need help catchin’ ’em?" Though Kun’s wounds were numerous, they were all superficial, not affecting his bones or muscles. If he could endure the pain, he could still move a little.

Hearing this, Paul straightened up and glanced at him before rummaging in his satchel again. He fished out a wrapped bundle and tossed it toward Kun. "Go home and tend to your wounds first. Once you’re fixed up and geared like us, then come help. Here, take this. You can’t help us on an empty stomach."

Mark, who had just finished tying up the crabs with grass rope, nudged Paul’s side. "Since when’s Blood Raven Paul got a soft spot?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Ancient history. Why bring it up now? Besides, I only killed those who deserved it. If the kid’s willing to help, we can catch even more crabs, right?"

Mark thought it over and agreed—extra hands never hurt.

As for payment, hadn’t Paul already given him medicine? They could always throw him a scrap later.

Kun picked up the bundle that had landed near him and carefully unwrapped it—it was bread. Cold as it was, warmth seeped from it into his palms. The aroma filled his nose, making him swallow repeatedly.

He glanced back at Paul and Mark, wanting to help immediately, but seeing his own injuries, he knew he’d only be a hindrance. Clenching his teeth through the pain, he limped homeward.

He hadn’t listened to his mother earlier and nearly lost his life. If he acted recklessly again now, he’d be a damn fool.

Kun’s mother waited anxiously at home. Instead of closing the door, she left it wide open, hoping to catch sight of her son the moment he returned.

Though barely half an hour had passed, it felt like days. Just as she debated whether to go to the shore herself, she spotted a familiar figure approaching.

This time, she leaned against the wall and stepped to the doorway, squinting for a better look.

Seeing his mother, Kun wanted to vanish. He’d just swore he’d be fine, yet here he was, returning covered in wounds—not just embarrassing, but he feared her scolding and anger.

The woman was indeed furious, but the moment she saw her son’s injuries, her anger melted into dread and guilt.

It was their failing as parents that had forced their child to suffer like this.

"Mother, I..." Kun had just opened his mouth when the woman gently took his hand and led him home.

Seeing his mother's steady steps, Kun was surprised. He had clearly seen her needing to use the wall for support earlier—how could she move on her own now?

"Go sit and rest. I'll boil water to clean your wounds." The woman's body was still weak, but she was pushing herself through sheer willpower. She couldn’t collapse—her child was already hurt. She couldn’t afford to panic—she had to stay strong.

"Mother, you should be the one lying down. I met kind strangers who saved me and gave me medicine. I’ll be fine. Oh, they also gave me food—here, have some first." Kun held his mother’s hand and took out the medicine and bread cakes from his robe, offering them to her.

The woman stared at the items before her, and her already weak body seemed to give out, all her strength draining away.

She swayed slightly, and if Kun hadn’t steadied her, she would have collapsed to the ground.

Kun pushed the bread into her hands and went to fetch water to wash the sand off.

The woman didn’t eat the bread. She simply watched silently as Kun washed himself, then called him over to apply the medicine.

"You eat first. Let me apply this."

Kun didn’t argue. He picked up a piece of bread, tore off a small portion, and popped it into his mother’s open mouth.

The woman wanted to say something, but Kun had already torn off another piece and put it into his own mouth.

Her lips moved slightly, but in the end, she chewed the bread slowly.

The bread from the kind stranger was thick and hearty, enough to last them several meals. And whatever it was made of, it was salty with a rich, oily aroma, the texture soft and moist.

Time passed quickly as the woman tended to her son’s wounds and he fed her pieces of bread.

By the time all of Kun’s injuries were treated, the small medicine box was almost empty. Feeling the pain gradually ease and his stomach full, he clenched his fists, feeling his strength come back.

"Mother, I need to go help my saviors catch crabs later. Can you get me some planks and rope?"

The woman, who had been about to soften the bread for her daughter, nearly dropped it at his words. "You—you still want to go? Look at you! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Seeing his mother’s trembling body, Kun felt as if something were squeezing his heart, the discomfort unbearable.

"But I already promised them. They saved me, gave me medicine and food—I can’t break my word."

"Then I’ll go. I’ll help them catch the crabs." The woman couldn’t bear the thought of her son risking his life again. She didn’t know why those men wanted crabs, but if a promise had to be kept, she—an adult—should be the one to fulfill it.

As the two stood in tense silence, a gruff voice called from the door, "No. You two stay put. I’ll handle it."