Chapter 645: The Great Wilderness Survival Failure (Part 1) (Patreon)

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It had become an undeniable fact that Batman was the golden child of the DC editorial department. Regardless of the situation or circumstances, Batman always found a way out.

After entrusting Arthur with the task of setting up the fishing traps, Bruce began crafting a rope ladder with the remaining fiber ropes and wooden sticks. The ladder could be hung from the platform within the cave, eliminating the need to painstakingly descend along the protrusions of the rock wall.

Once the rope ladder was complete, Bruce fashioned a set of metal tools. These tools surpassed Arthur's metal pieces, which were created by simply smashing stones. The metal components were expertly sharpened and perfectly sized, while the wooden handles were meticulously crafted to provide optimal grip.

With the tools at hand, it was time to consider improving their survival conditions. Hal observed Bruce's busy activities and asked, "How did you get here? Did you fly here in an aircraft? Where's your plane?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow and, with a cautious eye, replied, "According to the crash logs of my Bat Wing, you were the one piloting my aircraft when it crashed..."

"How is that possible? Schiller was the one who pushed the buttons!" Hal's tone escalated, but he soon recognized Bruce's "I told you so" expression and sighed in frustration, realizing he had fallen into a trap.

"So, you did come here in an aircraft. Why are you staying here then?" Hal inquired.

"Why are you staying here?" Bruce countered.

Hal glanced at Schiller, who was still tending to Oliver's wounds, and sighed, "If I say I don't want to stay here, can you fly me back?"

Bruce's movements paused for a moment. Aisha's terrifying screams echoed in his ears once again. Indeed, after her initial language learning, Aisha had started to form sentences.

In the early stages of vocabulary and grammar, there was an inevitable problem. To teach Aisha the meaning of a word, corresponding picture cards were essential. When Aisha discovered that something in the pictures could be expressed in words, she would point at everything, asking, "What is this?"

The greatest kindness human offspring could bestow upon their parents was to allow them some rest, even if it meant a few hours of noisy play. Aisha, however, was different. She knew no fatigue.

As possibly the first person in the world to truly defeat Batman, Aisha didn't take pride in it. Instead, she posed another challenge for Batman: how to teach a chaotic being proper grammar?

Grammar, a crucial element of language, often remained a challenge for many adults, even after decades of using a language.

Aisha, with her creative take on English grammar, defied Bruce's attempts at correction. He felt the need for some downtime to reflect on what he had learned in all his years of English.

So, even though the Bat Wing sat in a corner of the deserted island, Bruce didn't hesitate. He wholeheartedly dedicated himself to surviving on the island. At least the grass ropes in his hands didn't produce horrifying screams.

Bruce paid no more attention to Hal and turned to kick the already assembled rope ladder down from the platform. Then, he began pounding stakes into the ground to secure it.

Once he was sure the ladder was stable for direct use, Bruce started brainstorming about transportation options.

Firstly, the cave on the rocky wall upstream from the creek was quite a distance from the beach. According to his estimation of the fishing trap's efficiency, they would have to make trips to the beach every six hours or so to retrieve the fish.

If the salt-drying field was also located by the sea, it meant they'd have to transport salt back and forth, which would waste several hours on the road each day, with a half-hour round trip.

Batman was an irredeemable efficiency enthusiast. He came to this deserted island to survive, but his mind was filled with thoughts of productivity innovations and efficiency enhancements.

Staring at the palm tree bark he had stripped earlier, Bruce fell into deep thought. After a while, he called Hal over and said, "Let's shred these barks."

"Why?" Hal asked, bewildered. Bruce didn't explain much and immediately began working. Hal, although puzzled, joined in, using his metal pieces to cut the bark fibers along their direction.

Once all the fibers from the bark were scraped off and formed into a tangled mass resembling unruly hair, Bruce and Hal climbed down the rope ladder to the creek below and soaked the fibers in water, then began kneading and rubbing them.

After most of the fibers had been evenly distributed, Bruce used his metal pieces to cut them once again, then soaked and cut them repeatedly.

After several iterations, the fibers, once thread-like, had almost lost their individuality, transforming into a solid mass. Bruce placed the mass on a flat rock by the creek and forcefully flattened it, spreading the fractured fibers until they formed a fabric-like texture.

Hal followed suit, trying to replicate Bruce's actions. Due to his greater strength, his efforts produced even smaller pieces, resulting in a thinner fiber fabric.

Once they had flattened the material, Bruce left it to dry on the flat rock. Hal, curious, asked, "Now, can you tell me what you're planning to do?"

"I'm preparing to make a glider."

Bruce extended his hand, pointing behind Hal. Hal turned to see the rocky cliff above the cave—a sheer drop. As a pilot, he understood that standing on that cliff and gliding downward would effortlessly take them to the beaches surrounding the entire island.

It was well-known that having an aircraft on a deserted island meant freedom of movement. However, creating an aircraft from scratch was a challenge that existed mostly in literature and art. There were no objective conditions on this island to create items of science and technology beyond basic bed manufacturing.

However, the most critical aspect of an aircraft is its propulsion system, and if we eliminate the need for power and focus solely on gliding, it becomes much simpler.

Fortunately, their location was at a high altitude, and they could easily make up for the distance with the available height. As long as they could land smoothly, the time it took to reach the beach could be disregarded, at least for the outbound journey.

Hal looked down at the fiber fabric and asked, "So, are you planning to use this as the wing for the glider?"

"There are no large animals on this island, so obtaining animal skins is not an option, although animal skins would be the ideal choice. However, they require some processing, and I'm not certain if we have the necessary materials here. So, using fiber is the better option," Bruce explained.

Hal poked the fabric and noticed that it rapidly lost moisture. He looked up at the sky after the tropical storm and commented, "After the storm, there's usually scorching sun. It looks like it will dry quickly."

Bruce had already risen and headed back into the cave. "While we have this opportunity, we should make more than one. We need at least two gliders; this way, we can save a significant amount of time."

On the way back, Bruce remarked, "This is more like papermaking than fabric production. We don't need a smooth finish, but we should focus on enhancing toughness and strength."

"You seem quite experienced," Hal observed Bruce's youthful face and asked, "Where did you learn all this?"

Bruce remained silent and continued toward the cave. Hal shook his head in resignation and followed.

Besides dealing with the wing's construction, they also needed to create the frame. Both of them laid out the fiber fabric on large rocks by the creek. While waiting for the glider's raw materials to dry, Bruce began constructing the frame.

Since the glider made from fiber would have lower strength, the frame became crucial. Bruce drew design plans in the sand using sticks, leaving Hal puzzled. After a while, Hal asked, "Can I help with anything now?"

"Not at the moment," Bruce replied while continuing to draw. Hal persisted, "When will you need help then?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

When the first assembled glider was carried to the cliff's edge, Bruce and Hal exchanged glances. Bruce handed the glider to Hal and said, "It's time."

Hal looked at the glider, which wasn't the traditional triangular shape but more like a pentagon with a complex frame. Hal didn't understand the principles behind its construction and asked, "Could you explain the principles of this thing to me? I just don't feel entirely comfortable..."

"Do you understand how airplanes work?" Bruce asked.

"Um, not really..." Hal replied somewhat awkwardly. Despite his impressive performance in flying various aircraft models in combat, he had never studied related subjects and couldn't comprehend the technical jargon.

"Does that impede you from being a pilot?" Bruce inquired.

Hal sighed and reluctantly strapped the glider to his back, securing the thick ropes woven on it. "Relax. If I can't land smoothly, I can always fly myself," Bruce said, attempting to sound reassuring, though it came off more as a veiled threat.

Hal grasped the handles underneath, stomped his feet, and then accelerated swiftly off the cliff.

Fortunately, the situation where he plummeted headfirst didn't occur. The glider smoothly glided, almost a bit too smoothly.

It wasn't until Hal was over the target beach that he realized two things.

Firstly, Bruce's technical expertise was incredibly reliable, and the glider could glide quite a distance.

Secondly, Bruce's technical expertise exceeded expectations. Even after reaching the beach, the glider showed no signs of stopping.

At that moment, Arthur, who had set up the fishing traps on the beach, was picking up seashells with a woven bamboo basket. Occasionally, he used a wooden stick to lift rocks, searching for small crabs beneath.

Suddenly, he sensed a shadow approaching. He looked up and saw the glider and Hal coming towards him. Hal yelled, "Get out of the way!"

Arthur immediately rolled to the ground, narrowly avoiding Hal's rapid descent. There was a loud "thud" as Hal crashed into the sea.

Sprayed by the splashing seawater, Arthur wiped his face and saw a familiar figure appearing nearby on the shore. It was a black-and-white creature, the killer whale that Schiller had brought over earlier.

At that moment, the killer whale shook its head and tail. The ripples in the water indicated that it seemed to be preparing to do something. Arthur quickly extended his hand and shouted, "Oh no! Wait, don't..."

"Thud!"

"Oh!"

Turning his head, Arthur saw Hal, who looked like a drenched rat, sprawled on the beach. He then looked at the culprit—the killer whale, which hadn't retracted its tail yet. Arthur shook his head, sighed, and muttered to himself.

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 646: Wilderness Survival Catastrophe (Part 1)