Chapter 115 Trainee Captain
Han Kun eventually led his group of Russians to defeat all the Koreans, although in the end, almost all of them were injured.
Vasily's hands were trembling. A Korean man had slapped him on the arm with a stick, and if his arm hadn't been so thick, he probably would have ended up in the clinic. There were many gentle and kind female doctors in the clinic, but their attitude towards the Russians was extremely hostile, completely different from their attitude towards other patients.
"Thump!" A large bucket of thick egg drop soup was placed on Han Kun's team's table. The chubby cook said, "The battalion commander gave you an extra meal, hehe... Han family lad, your men are quite capable..."
"Uncle Hu, please thank Uncle Zhuang for me." Han Kun didn't take the fat cook seriously. If he really went to fight this fat man, he was sure he would be completely humiliated.
The cook waved casually and turned to leave. They were all children he'd watched grow up; he'd naturally help if needed.
Without Han Kun's prompting, Vasily had the Russians eat and drink soup according to custom, continuing until they were so comfortable they burped. Only then did the Russians stop eating, and this kind of life was simply intoxicating for them.
Vasily was bought, and his family received a few sacks of grain. Like many Russians, he had no idea what his fate would be. If he were to become a serf and farm the land, it wouldn't be a bad outcome, since these high-ranking officials seemed to have plenty of food.
They traveled for two months by carriage and then for more than half a month by boat before finally arriving at a warm place.
After Vasily disembarked, he waited for the high-ranking officials to choose him. Everyone else was picked, but no one wanted Vasily; he was simply too big, and it was clear he ate a lot. He didn't dare eat to his heart's content, even though the officials could eat as much as they wanted.
Just when Vasily was so panicked that he couldn't eat, someone finally took notice of him. He was taken to a seaside camp and formed a team with a hundred other Rakshasa people, under the command of a young boy.
Vasily saw disdain in the boy's eyes, which terrified him even more. This boy was clearly a "big shot," for his clothes were fine, his boots exquisite, and, most importantly, he carried a silver flask from which Vasily recognized the aroma of liquor—a bottle of such strong liquor could be exchanged for a beauty like Natasha.
"I don't care who you were before, or which tribe you belonged to. From now on, forget about your past. You are now Dayuan people, sailors of Dayuan." The boy lectured Vasily and the others, and then began to train them. Vasily finally understood what his job was.
The tall mast was buried in the playground, requiring dozens of climbs each time; the rough, stiff canvas was heavy and required dozens of raising and lowerings each time. You also had to quickly roll up the canvas and tie it to the mast; if you were slower than others, someone else would eat your food.
“Here, if you’re slow to furl the sails, you’ll just go hungry. But if you were slow to furl the sails on a ship, you’d die, and everyone would die with you…” The slowest team would always be subjected to the instructor’s roar, which was worse than being hungry.
Vasily didn't know why slow sail-retrieval would lead to death. He asked Han Kun, who was very clever and always knew everything.
"The galleons designed by the prince all use these soft sails. If a storm suddenly occurs, the sails need to be quickly furled, otherwise... either the mast will break, or the ship will... capsize." Han Kun knew the reason as expected.
The main reason Qin Mo chose galleons over those well-designed Chinese hard-hulled sailing ships was that he didn't understand Chinese sailing ships. There were too many classic ship shapes to learn from in Western sailing ships, but he had never seen Chinese sailing ships, especially large ocean-going vessels.
In fact, the stiff sails of Chinese sailing ships were not bad for navigating the unpredictable coastal waters of Daxia, but Qin Mo's ultimate goal was the open ocean, so he chose the Western-style sailing ship that he was familiar with and that was more complex to operate, instead of studying Chinese stiff-sailed sailing ships.
Vasily didn't care whether he would die in the future. He was very satisfied with his current life because he had never gone hungry since he arrived in Tainan. He was very strong and could furl the sails very quickly.
The staple food of the Dayuan is rice, the Fusang people like to make it into rice balls, while the Luosha people have always mainly eaten wheat.
Ever since a kind cook told the Russians that they could have more rice when they finished eating, the Russians have come to love rice.
As for egg drop soup, pork rib soup, stewed salted fish, etc., Vasily's team can often eat these, which is one of the reasons why Zheng Yu and his team are picking on them today.
“Vasily, pick twenty men. We… have been chosen. In a few days, we will be going to sea with the fleet.”
"Captain... at sea... is there any alcohol?" Vasily asked excitedly. Every so often, a lucky person would go out to sea with the ship; His Highness called it an "internship." The internship was paid, and occasionally a little bit of strong liquor would be provided.
"If you want to be sent to the Marines, then keep dreaming about being a drunkard!" Han Kun didn't understand what was wrong with these Russians; they didn't even recognize their own fathers when they saw alcohol.
"Captain... could you transfer me to the Marine Corps?" Vasily's face became obsequious. During his recent leave, he had seen some Russian Marines who were rationed with strong liquor.
"Vasily... come here." Han Kun began to move his hands and feet.
Vasily, with a pained expression, obediently walked over, put his hands on his head, and squatted down.
"Damn it, I've been protecting you and spoiling you all, and you want to join the Marines? Let me tell you, once you're in my team, you're mine, and you'll die in my team."
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