From Robinson Crusoe

When the ancient sun sank to the other side of the sea, darkness ascended the throne and became the new king of the archipelago.

The sound of the tide never ceases day and night.

The wind rustled the leaves in the dense forest, carrying the pungent smell of fish and shrimp, and the lingering smoke of embers, as it passed through the heart of the tribe.

Beside the simple hut, the embers of the campfire flickered red.

Inside the house, which was covered with a few broad leaves, the sound of snoring could already be heard.

Without lights or enough food, the indigenous people believed that the whole world should rest after nightfall.

Sleep allows them to forget pain, hunger, and fatigue.

Life will go on when the sun rises tomorrow.

……

After the old priest went missing, the large tribe asked the Spanish for help. However, the search teams they sent also failed to find him, and the close relationship between the chief and the Spanish gradually broke down.

As a result, the annexation and expansion of large tribes gradually slowed down, and even came to a standstill.

The once spirited leader has become increasingly irritable since then, resorting to beatings and scoldings as a matter of course, and even killing people indiscriminately when faced with minor inconveniences.

He became enamored with a fragrant water that the Spanish had given him.

After drinking that water, the leader would occasionally lie in bed and sleep for a whole day.

But more often than not, he would become more irritable and ruthless than usual.

At least a dozen people in the tribe died after he went mad from drinking that water.

The natives often whispered among themselves, wondering if such things were happening in the tribe because they were no longer under the protection of the gods after the old priest left.

Some brave people sought the help of the new priest, hoping he could communicate with God and see if the leader could be restored to his former state.

The man was tied to a stake the next day and skinned alive.

As the chieftain ripped out the man's heart and put it into his mouth, the new priest stood beside the stake, head bowed, without uttering a word.

Even the most foolish person would understand that the new priest and the leader were in cahoots.

Nowadays, the entire tribe is ruled by the chief, whose confidants wield metal knives and are all well-fed.

In this territory, no one can match those warriors.

Having learned from past mistakes, no one attempted to change the leader again; however, some natives, unable to bear the suffering any longer, secretly fled.

……

Unlike the larger island, these smaller islands are clustered together in one area of ​​the sea, not far apart from each other. On a clear day, the opposite shore can be seen through the shallow water in between.

Cross-island warfare was a weakness for the natives, especially when they attempted to land on the beach in canoes. Before they even reached the shore, many of them would be killed by arrows and spears from the enemy on the opposite bank.

Even when the tribe was expanding rapidly, the chief did not gather warriors to attack other islands.

Similarly, tribes from other islands never attacked other tribes, since everyone knew that such a war was difficult to fight.

Those natives at the very bottom of society, who were always hungry and in danger of losing their lives, would, in moments of despair, muster their courage, with empty stomachs, and leap into the water to swim to the other side.

Some of them were discovered and shot dead by the warriors ordered by their leader while still in the water, their blood staining the sea red.

Some went undiscovered, but sank to the bottom of the sea due to exhaustion, and their bodies were found on the shore a day or two later.

Only a lucky few manage to reach the other side, but whether a better life awaits them or a new hell remains unknown.

Most people still lack the courage and the thought of resistance, and can only work day after day, starve day after day, and struggle to survive.

……

While the people of the tribe were asleep, Sunday the three had already dropped anchor and stopped not far from the shore.

To avoid any natives on the island standing guard and noticing anything unusual, they turned off the "light stick" on Sunday and put on night vision goggles along with Kosu and Kuru.

Despite having used night vision goggles during previous training, the three couldn't help but marvel at their strange-looking devices when they put them on.

Such a wondrous thing exists in this world.

The pitch-black world was illuminated after we put on night vision goggles.

Although the bright colors are cold and make one unable to feel the colorfulness of the world, they still allow one to see everything clearly.

Aside from "the power of God," Kosu and Kuru could think of no other explanation. They could only express awe and submission to these unknown and powerful things.

……

The tide was calm at night, and the anchored boat rocked slightly.

The three had just finished eating and replenished their energy. At this moment, they remained silent and assembled weapons in the cabin.

While Kosu and Kuru were assembling and testing the American recurve bow, he was checking his rifle and bullets on Sunday.

He loaded the gleaming bullets into the chamber, picked up his backpack, and seeing that Kosu and Kulu had already skillfully assembled their weapons, he hung his longsword on his belt, then waved his hand, signaling the two to begin their operation.

……

The seawater where the sailboat anchored was about waist-deep.

Rifles are susceptible to water damage. When landing on Sunday, rifles should be held high above the head to prevent seawater from splashing onto the gun and affecting its performance.

While recurve bows didn't have this concern, Kosu and Kuru also raised their hands—

The weapons bestowed by the leader were very precious, and they did not want to damage them.

Moreover, the natives were all skilled archers, and possessing such excellent bows and arrows was something they could only dream of. Even out of hunter's instinct, they would take good care of their weapons.

……

The combat uniform was submerged in seawater, and the excellent waterproof fabric temporarily protected it from the seawater's attack.

The three-person team could only hear the sound of wading through the water and the distant wind.

Soon, they successfully reached the wet beach.

Here you can find many traces of human activity, including ashes from burnt-out fires, tree branches scattered on the sand, animal bones, and barefoot footprints...

In the image captured by the infrared night vision device, the whole world appears as a hazy gray with a slight greenish tinge.

The three, their lower bodies soaked by seawater, appeared extremely nervous upon their first arrival on the island.

Especially on Sundays.

When he was bound hand and foot and thrown into a canoe, he never dreamed that he would survive a cannibalistic sacrifice.

He never imagined that one day he would return to this island that he loathed and feared.

According to the "god," this is his hometown.

People should have a sense of nostalgia for their hometown.

But for Sunday, there was nowhere here that he would miss. If there was anything that would make him want to return to the island, it was only for revenge.

Killing the enemies who slaughtered his tribe and ate his parents was the only thing he wanted to do.

……

Observing the woodland near the shore, but not finding any native sentries among the sparse trees, Sunday approached Kuru and quietly asked him for directions to his home.

Kuru had lived on this island for over twenty years, and even after leaving for more than a year, upon returning, he could still clearly discern the direction of his home.

Looking around to determine the direction, he held a recurve bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, and led Sunday and Kosu toward higher ground on the beach.

On the night of July 28th, a crescent moon hung in the sky. The stars and moonlight were no match for the island's illumination.

In the gray-green world, broken trees can be seen everywhere around the land on the island where paths have been trampled out.

Further away, on a slightly higher slope, Kulu could see a simple little hut in the distance.

The houses of ordinary indigenous people are all the same: a triangular wooden frame made of a few not-so-thick branches, and then a layer of leaves is laid on top, and that is the house.

There were no tables or chairs, no beds inside; if the blankets were too small, one couldn't even stand up straight.

Such a simple house can provide some sun protection during the dry season, but during the rainy season, it rains inside as well as outside.

However, during the rainy season, outdoor work is basically impossible. The indigenous people, who stay indoors, can at least repair their houses and spread more leaves on the shelves, in addition to going hungry.

No matter how many leaves you lay down, it won't stop rainwater from seeping into the house, but it's better than nothing.

……

The small house on the hillside was built by Kuru himself. Not far from the house was his father's residence.

However, his father passed away many years ago, and he merely inherited the position his father held.

On this island, this is the least valuable asset, not even as meaningful as a freshly caught fish.

Gazing at the cottage in the distance, thinking of his spouse and children, Kuru gripped his recurve bow tightly, feeling his heart pounding faster and faster.

Striving to maintain a slight range of motion and avoid making too much noise, Kuru unconsciously quickened his pace.

He longed to reach the cabin and see his family, the things he missed day and night on the island.

……

Noticing that something was wrong with Kulu, Sunday pressed down on his shoulder, signaling him to slow down.

Then, on Sunday, he replaced Kuru and returned to the number one position in the squad, leading the two straight to the cabin.

As they moved forward, Sunday frequently turned his head to look to the left and right, fearing that the natives might discover their whereabouts.

Although he longed to go on a killing spree, the action plan constantly reminded him of the true purpose of landing on the island.

If the first operation is completed quietly, subsequent operations will go smoothly.

If this operation results in firing shots and causing a disturbance, regardless of whether the objective is achieved, it will be significantly more difficult to sneak onto the island to capture the natives in the future.

Although he may seem a bit reckless on Sundays, that doesn't mean he lacks a sense of the bigger picture.

He knew very well which was more important: the mission of the "god" or the personal pleasure of slaughter.

……

The natives had absolutely no awareness of the need to guard against night attacks.

In this quiet night, apart from someone getting up to use the restroom in the middle of the night who might see the three-person team, there is no other way to discover them.

Before long, Sunday, armed with a gun, crept up to the hut.

Kuru was agitated and eagerly tried to crawl into the house, but Sunday grabbed his clothes.

Just as he was about to pull Sunday's hand away, he remembered the fierce expression on the ruthless law enforcement officer's face, obscured by night vision goggles, and subconsciously shrank back, obediently retreating to the back.

He made a shushing gesture, then on Sunday, he slung his spear over his shoulder and quietly drew his knife.

Kulu thought he was going to kill his wife and children, and his face was filled with fear, but he dared not stop him.

When one is in a hurry but cannot move, one's ability to capture information is greatly enhanced. It was only then that Kuru, who was overwhelmed by emotions, noticed the snoring coming from inside the cabin.

And that snoring sound was clearly not something a woman or a child could make.

……

In indigenous tribes, orphans whose parents have died are usually raised by the entire tribe.

Of course, while they were supposed to be raised, those children were ultimately without parents or anyone to rely on. If they didn't receive care from the priests or the leaders, and had no uncles to depend on, their best fate would be to fall into the lower class, and they would most likely die young.

Orphans whose fathers have died and who only have their mothers have several options.

If the mother is willing to be one of the leading women, or to do heavy physical work that men do, the child can grow up in a slightly more stable environment.

These children are very lucky, because almost no mother is willing to make such a sacrifice.

In this barbaric and backward place, the radiance of motherhood has long been dimmed; the meaning of reproduction is only for survival and for labor, nothing more.

In most cases, the child's mother will find another man.

In a tribe, able-bodied men are a precious resource; with them, the family has a pillar of support, and life is much less burdensome.

However, while this may be a way to reduce the burden on the child's mother, it may not be so easy for the child.

Kuru grew up in the tribe and saw too many children starve to death, or even be taken away and eaten by the hungry natives.

Now that a new man has moved into his cottage, his children's situation is unlikely to be very optimistic.

……

Anger surged within Kulu; he gripped the arrow shaft tightly, wishing he could rush into the hut and ask where his child was.

Before he could even draw the bowstring and nock the arrow, Sunday, the one who drew his sword, had already taken action.

With a decisive step forward and a slight bend, Sunday's body entered the cabin.

With the help of night vision goggles, he saw a naked indigenous man and woman lying on a bed of flattened leaves.

The two slept in each other's arms, and there was no trace of a third person in the cramped little house.

Perhaps they were too tired from working during the day, because even if someone broke into the house, they were not disturbed from their sleep.

There was only enough room for one person inside, but there were two natives who needed to be subdued. The situation was urgent, and Sunday came up with a suitable solution in less than a second.

Taking another step forward, his sturdy military boots pressed directly against the man's chest, while the gleaming blade of his long sword was placed against the woman's neck.

……

After being rescued by Chen Zhou, Sunday spent nearly two years recovering.

The boy who could count his ribs just by taking off his clothes has transformed into a strong and healthy warrior.

The indigenous man inside the hut, although older than Sunday, should theoretically be at the peak of his physical fitness.

But he worked during the day and still didn't have enough to eat at night. His naked body was full of bones. He was already doing his best to complete the food gathering tasks assigned by the chief. He had no time to exercise.

In addition, the consumption of undercooked food can introduce parasites, further depleting the already limited nutritional intake.

With this shift in power, the gap between this person and Sunday's power has widened considerably.

A man was suddenly stepped on while he was asleep. When he woke up, he felt as if a huge rock was pressing on his chest, making him short of breath and unable to move.

Inside the dark little house, only a tall figure could be vaguely seen looking down at him.

The figure's outline was unlike that of a human, with a pair of strange, protruding eyes on its head, staring at him fiercely, like a demon's subordinate in a priest's tale of mythology.

On the other side, the woman, who was just groggily waking up, was about to get up when she came into contact with the sharp edge of a long knife.

On Sunday, he extended the knife slightly forward, the tip piercing the woman's skin. The stinging pain made her instinctively lie back down.

In the darkness, the two heard a familiar native language.

"Shut up, or you'll die." (End of Chapter)