Chapter 708: Island Full of Dark Secrets

"Hey guys, it’s your boy Chad. We’re officially on the island, and we have a native with us here right now—" He turned the phone toward the driver’s seat so his followers could see the older man behind the wheel. "Please, greet my followers, mister...?"

The man glanced over with a gentle smile, completely unbothered by the camera.

"Oh, are you filming me?" he asked, his voice calm and amused. "I’m Pat."

"So, Pat, would you mind telling us why people are afraid to come to this island?" Chad asked, not even waiting for a natural opening. "Why do we keep hearing rumors about young guys disappearing here?"

Pat kept his eyes on the narrow road ahead and smiled. "Oh, you must have heard all the rumors about our home. But let me tell you, none of them are true. This is a very peaceful place."

The guys riding in the open back of the truck leaned closer, listening with curiosity. A quiet shock settled in my chest. Both the mysterious woman from last night and the man we’d met on the ferry had made the island sound cursed, full of disappearances and dark stories. Yet this calm older man was brushing it all off as nothing more than baseless rumors.

"So, what about the rumors that this island has fewer young people? Was that a lie too?" I asked, growing even more curious.

Chad immediately adjusted his phone so that both Pat and I were in the frame, waiting for his answer like a proper interviewer.

For a moment, Pat hesitated. His expression changed, and something colder and heavier flickered across his face, as if another person had briefly taken over. Then he forced his warm smile back into place.

"That’s neither a rumor nor a lie," he said carefully. "We really are short of young people. Most of our young men have left the island in search of better opportunities. That’s why we sometimes need help from outsiders, just like Alex, who came here through the volunteer program."

He smiled again, but the expression looked strained, like someone trying to hide his discomfort after a question had hit a nerve.

Chad didn’t back down. Keeping the camera steady, he continued speaking like a reporter who already suspected there was more to the story than the official explanation.

"Is that really true, Mr. Pat? Because we heard something about low fertility rates or something..."

The truck lurched to a sudden stop, sending Chad’s phone flying out of his hand. It clattered onto the floor mat near our feet. The sudden silence inside the truck felt heavier than the questions that had triggered it.

The guys sitting in the open back of the truck grabbed the sides tightly so they wouldn’t fall from the sudden stop.

"What the fuck, man? You gonna break my new phone?" Chad muttered, bending down to pick it up from the floor mat. He checked the screen quickly, then sighed in relief when he saw it was still intact.

"I’m sorry, kids," Pat said calmly. "The brake has been giving me a hard time lately. But we’re here." He pointed out the window on his side.

We were parked right in front of a wide set of stone stairs that led up to a large Buddhist temple. The building rose above the trees, its traditional roof and quiet courtyard visible from the road. Everyone in the truck leaned over to look.

We had reached the place where Chad and the others would be staying.

"Oh, thanks, man. Really appreciate it," Chad said as he opened the door. Then he turned to me. "Alex, let’s exchange numbers. I’m sure you’re here for a few days. We’ll get in touch." He held his phone out and tapped it against mine.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. Our phones buzzed softly as our contact information transferred.

One by one, Chad and his friends climbed out of the truck. A couple of them leaned in through the open window to fist-bump me while I stayed in the passenger seat, waiting for them to clear out so Pat and I could continue.

All I really wanted now was a long, clean shower at Pat’s house and a chance to wash the night off my skin.

Once the last of them had stepped onto the road and started climbing the temple stairs, Pat glanced over at me.

"Shall we go?"

"Yeah, let’s go," I said.

The truck pulled away from the temple and continued deeper into the island. The scenery around us was genuinely beautiful. The roads were clean and quiet, lined with thick green trees on both sides.

I rested my arm on the open window and let my hand hang outside, feeling the cool air rush past my fingers. It was so clean and smooth it almost felt unreal. Even with all the dark rumors I had heard, the island itself felt calm and peaceful in the morning light.

On the way to Pat’s home we crossed open fields. In one of them I saw a group of women working under the sun. They were all older, wearing short-sleeved vests and simple shorts that left their arms and legs bare.

Every one of them had a full, voluptuous body, heavy breasts, wide hips, soft curves that moved as they worked. The sight pulled my mind straight back to the dream I had last night on the ferry, when five older women with the same kind of thick bodies had surrounded me.

As the truck passed by, every woman stopped what she was doing and turned to look at me. They all wore the same quiet, pleasant smile.

And it was true. The farther we drove, the more I noticed it. Everywhere we went, there were hardly any young people. Occasionally, I spotted a man or woman who looked to be around thirty, but no one younger.

The island really did seem to have a shortage of young people.

"Here we are," Pat said as we pulled up to a wooden house that looked quiet and peaceful. It felt like a traditional Japanese countryside home.

We both got out of the truck. Pat carried my trolley bag and knocked on the front door of his home.

Soon the door opened, and a woman appeared, holding it open. She was wearing a thin white vest that had become almost see-through from the sweat. She was fanning herself with a small hand fan, and the damp fabric clung tightly to her voluptuous figure.

Her soft yet heavy melons looked full and heavy beneath the thin material, and her fair, clear skin glowed in the light. I could clearly see the outline of her stiff nipples pressing against the vest. On the bottom she wore simple cotton shorts that hugged her thick, juicy thighs and the soft curve of her ass.

I couldn’t help staring at her from top to bottom.

"Alex, this is my wife, Yuki," Pat said, introducing us.

"Oh, you are Alex. Welcome," the woman said, smiling warmly as she greeted me.