From Robinson Crusoe

The Black Forest remained tranquil, with its towering, grey-black trees creating a strong sense of oppression for those within it.

Especially when you are alone.

At that moment, a strong sense of unease lingered in Paul's heart.

Chen Zhou had been chasing the man in black robes for a long time. He didn't dare to stay in one place, but instead chose to lead the three sawtooth tiger cubs toward the edge of the forest.

One man and three tigers concealed themselves behind several large trees on the outskirts of the forest.

Having traveled this far, it should be quite safe in theory.

Paul knew Chen Zhou could find him after dealing with the man in black, but right now, crouching under the tree, he felt utterly unsafe; a deep-seated intuition was reminding him—

Perhaps the first to arrive will not be Chen Zhou, but the man in black robes.

So Paul picked up his multi-tool, leaned against the tree trunk, and stood on high alert, preparing to face the unknown enemy.

……

During the wait, time seemed to slow down.

Paul's palms were sweaty as he gripped the knife handle. Just as he was about to loosen his grip and wipe the sweat, Tiger Dawa, who had been lying quietly beside him, suddenly stood up.

It spread its two thick front legs, lowered its body slightly, flattened its ears, revealed a fierce look in its eyes, bared its sharp canine teeth, and let out a deep roar from its throat, whimpering threateningly at the trees directly in front of it.

Following Tiger Cub's warning, the other two saw-toothed tigers also entered battle mode.

The three serrated tigers all faced the same direction, so even though Paul couldn't see them, he knew where the enemy was.

Before the enemy got close, he wiped the sweat from his palms to avoid slipping on the knife handle and losing his life during the fight.

I still remember what Chen Zhou told me—

If the man in black robes captures you, creating a one-on-one situation, you must defend with all your might and shout for help to expose your position and lure Chen Zhou back to your aid.

Paul gazed at the distant tree trunks, about to shout out, when he suddenly remembered that he was at the edge of the forest, while the other two groups of challengers had already descended the cliff, one a depleted force and the other a full-strength team.

His words might attract Chen Zhou, but they could also draw the other two groups of challengers over, thus negating their advantage of being hidden in the shadows.

Should they immediately call for help, risking revealing their position, or defend with all their might, trusting Chen Zhou and holding out until he arrives?

There wasn't much time for Paul to think—

The enemy has appeared.

……

Compared to the previous times I've seen him, the man in black now looks extremely disheveled, and has even lost his signature black robe.

He was only wearing light armor, with tears in his clothing at the chest, revealing light brown skin and muscles as hard as cast iron.

The mask on his face was still on, and his gray pupils remained indifferent, but looked more tired than before.

……

Chen Zhou's strength far exceeded his expectations. If he hadn't lacked experience in combat, Zawahiri might have already died under that spear.

Even so, Zawahiri, who was wearing heavy stab-proof clothing, was still injured. If the "scent trap" had not worked successfully and lured Chen Zhou in another direction, he would not have been able to get here at all, let alone take the opportunity to retaliate.

A cold, murderous gaze swept between Paul and the three-headed saw-toothed tiger. Zawahiri maintained his steady pace, lifted the bottom of his mask, and popped another weak, rapid regeneration capsule into his mouth.

This was one of the rewards he received after the last trial, and also the only powerful supply he successfully brought into this trial.

If it weren't for this capsule, he would have died under that spear more than ten minutes ago;

Without this capsule, he would never have been able to hold on until now, escape so far while severely injured, and even manage to confuse the public and create a false impression.

However, the weak-effect rapid regeneration capsules are not enough to fully heal his injuries in a short time; they can only help him complete this battle.

More importantly, the capsule he had just put into his mouth was the last one, which meant that Zawahiri only had one chance.

If he cannot defeat his opponent in a short time, he must retreat immediately; otherwise, if he is entangled with that monstrous man again, his chances of survival will be extremely slim.

……

Woo~woo~
The threatening cries of the saw-toothed tiger grew more and more frequent, and Paul finally made his own decision—

Do not call for help.

He knew perfectly well who had given them their lead, who had been bearing the pressure since the challenge began, and how important airdrop supplies were.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Paul never felt that he had played any crucial role in this challenge. Objectively speaking, while he wasn't a burden, he wasn't much better than one either.

Paul knew very well that shouting for help would get Chen Zhou to find him as quickly as possible.

But if they did that, all the advantages they had painstakingly accumulated over the years would be gone.

Knowing that there was another group of people in the forest, some of the special traps they had set up became ineffective, and they also lost the opportunity to launch the first attack.

Life is certainly important, but whether one can sacrifice the collectively accumulated interests for one's own life is a question.

Recalling Chen Zhou carrying heavy loads like a cooking pot on his back, leading him on long journeys, and his unwavering figure climbing down the cliff, Paul seemed to see the selfless political commissars who cared for new members in the early days of the Soviet Republic, and the soldiers who charged into battle during the Battle of Moscow.

Although he did not understand the meaning of "Life is what I desire, and righteousness is also what I desire. If I cannot have both, I will give up life for righteousness," he demonstrated this principle through his actions.

……

Noticing Paul's actions, Zawahiri's face twisted into a sinister grin beneath his mask—

Although it was his first time participating in such a cooperative trial, he had a general understanding of the unspoken rules for assigning each group of challengers, thanks to his keen awareness of the rules.

If one member is too strong, then the other member must be relatively weak.

Just like his murdered partner, who had absolutely no chance of fighting back against him.

Another member of this group of challengers is even more formidable than him, so it's reasonable to assume that this big guy is actually weaker.

Interestingly, this person, who was so weak, did not choose to run away or call for help when faced with him.

What? Is this confidence in his strength, or contempt for him?
……

Sensing that the capsule had taken effect, Zawahiri took the scabbard from his waist, gripped it in his hand, and moved swiftly while swaying left and right, using feints to deceive Paul.

When the weak-potency rapid regeneration capsule takes effect, the rapidly regenerating body tissue creates a sensation of alternating itching and pain, which can sometimes reach a pain level of 8, completely incapacitating a person.

To counteract side effects, an analgesic and antipruritic ingredient is added to the regeneration capsules, which can mask the nerves when the medication is in effect.

For Zawahiri, the capsule was not only a top-tier drug, but also a special stimulant.

At least during the period when the medication was effective, he was not afraid of pain or injury.

……

Paul had never faced such an enemy before. In the first exchange, Zawahiri's heavy scabbard nearly knocked the saber out of his hand.

When defending against the attack, Paul's palms were even pressed and bled because he gripped the knife too tightly.

The man in black robes was like a silent beast; once the attack began, it was like a raging storm, launching one attack after another, giving him no chance to breathe.

All Paul could do was defend. He struggled to catch the attack amidst the clanging of the scabbard, then blocked it with the saber embedded in his palm.

Once, twice, three times...

Paul's heart rate rose sharply, as did the frequency of his opponent's attacks, and he gradually lost track of the scabbard's attack trajectory.

And so he suffered his first blow—

The scabbard bypassed his flimsy defenses and struck him hard on the shoulder.

The intense pain made Paul's face contort. It was his right shoulder, the very hand holding the knife. After the attack, his shoulder was completely paralyzed, and he could no longer grip the knife.

With great effort, Paul managed to loosen his grip on the knife handle with his right hand and caught the knife with his left. However, before he could regain his footing, the man in black kicked him to the ground.

Paul slammed his back against the tree trunk, feeling as if his internal organs had shifted, and his vision even blurred.

"cough~"

Paul felt an itch in his lungs and vomited some liquid; he didn't know if it was blood, stomach acid, or bile.

……

""

Zawahiri stopped attacking, pressed down on Paul's injured shoulder, and looked down at him condescendingly.

This was the first time Paul had heard the man speak since their first meeting; before this, he had always thought the man in the black robe was mute.

You can tell the man in the black robe is speaking Arabic, but you don't know what he's saying.

Paul knew only that what was coming out of this man's mouth was certainly not kind, and he could only respond with—

"Suka BuLei!"

As soon as he uttered those bloody words, Paul felt a sharp pain in his knee.

The man in black robes stepped on his knees and slowly applied pressure, grinding them from side to side.

Gritting his teeth, Paul remained silent, only managing to raise his head to glare angrily at the masked man in black.

At that moment, he most wished he could speak Arabic, so he could ask this guy a question—

"How shameful must you be to hide your face behind a mask?"

But he couldn't speak, let alone continue the fight.

The man in black robes was no shorter than him, and his physical attributes and fighting skills were far superior, making it all the more impressive that he had managed to hold on until now. This was an absolute difference in strength that could not be overcome.

……

The smile beneath the mask grew increasingly smug.

Zawahiri enjoys seeing the expressions of others enduring pain; he especially enjoys seeing the expressions of others suffering, like the person who lost their partner.

He was never afraid of offending anyone.

Now, he was curious to see how this guy's partner would react when he arrived and found only a corpse.

Unfortunately, that terrifying guy has left him with some trauma, and he will find it difficult to win a direct confrontation.

If he gets entangled again, without the regeneration capsule, escaping will be even more difficult, so he probably won't be able to appreciate the other person's expression.

But now, Zawahiri has an even more interesting idea—

If what lay on the ground wasn't a corpse, but a seriously injured partner, would that guy choose to continue fighting for supplies with that burden, or would he just kill the useless comrade?
This seemed more interesting, more vengeful, and more to his liking.

Just as he was pondering how to retaliate, Zawahiri suddenly felt a gust of wind coming from behind and to the left and right.

The wind carried the distinctive stench of carnivores.

In an instant, Zawahiri realized that these must be the three juvenile saw-toothed tigers.

He chuckled lightly, having never taken the three tiger cubs seriously since he first saw them.

If it were three adult sawtooth tigers, it would be quite troublesome. What use would a fierce tiger cub be?

With a slight dodge, Zawahiri avoided Tiger Da Wa's attack. He then kicked Tiger Er Wa away, but felt a slight tingling sensation in his other leg.

The regeneration capsule was still working; the usually intense pain had been reduced to almost nothing. Zawahiri knew this and quickly looked towards his leg—

Tiger Cub's eyes were filled with ferocity. It grabbed Zawahiri's calf with its claws, and a pair of dagger-like canine teeth pierced deeply into the trouser leg. Zawahiri's blood had already stained its mouth red.

"!(brute)"

Unexpectedly, he was bitten by a tiger cub. Zawahiri raised the scabbard in his hand and slammed it hard against the back of the third tiger cub.

With a sharp crack, a noticeable dent appeared on Tiger Cub's back, and its hind legs became weak. However, it still did not let go. Its tiger eyes seemed to be bleeding, and its sharp claws, instead of loosening their grip, tightened their hold even more.

His expression beneath the mask could no longer remain calm; Zawahiri's usually indifferent eyes revealed a rare display of urgency and rage.

Just as he was about to twist the tiger cub's neck, break its teeth, and knock it off its leg, two other saw-toothed tigers pounced on him, forcing him to dodge again.

The roar of a tiger surrounded Zawahiri.

At the same moment, the analgesic effect of the regeneration capsules began to weaken, and Zawahiri's back wound felt as if it were being burned by fire, burning painfully.

Affected by the pain and the persistent, clingy Tiger Three Brothers, Zawahiri's killing intent surged to its peak.

He had almost forgotten about that terrible man. Now, all he wanted was to kill this fearless Slav, kill these three insolent saw-toothed tigers, and tear them all to pieces!
……

Tiger Two thought this was just a normal hunt, and that they could enjoy their spoils after Paul had prepared the prey.

It didn't know why things had turned out this way; it only knew that its brother had launched an attack, and it only knew that it had to attack as well.

Offense is in the nature of the sawtooth tiger.

Their long, narrow canines, their herd mentality, their willingness to challenge mammoths, their courage to hunt giant prey—everything about them evolved for the purpose of attack.

In the innocent world of Tiger Two, there is no fear.

It pounced a third time, only to be kicked away again, rolling several times on the hard ground.

This time, it took it even longer to get up, and then, without the slightest hesitation, it launched another attack.

Tiger Boy, however, had already been struck by a scabbard and was sent flying to the ground, where he had not yet gotten up.

……

The battle continues.

Or rather, the one-sided massacre continued. Amidst the unwilling roars of the tiger, the pervasive stench of blood, and the stimulation of pain, Zawahiri almost forgot that someone was still searching for him.

It wasn't until the sound of a kunai cutting through the air rang out that he turned his head in a panic and saw the figure dragging a spear, now filled with utter rage, that he realized what had happened—

It turns out he wasn't the hunter, but the prey. (End of Chapter)