From Robinson Crusoe

Perhaps it was the two people standing up together that gave the leading native confidence, or perhaps it was the long-term domineering attitude in the tribe that made him forget his current situation.

The third repetition on Sunday, instead of intimidating him, aroused his anger—

"You little bastard, where do you get the guts to speak to us in that tone?"

Muttering crude native slang, he raised his head without showing any weakness, looked directly into Sunday's eyes, and swung the knife in his hand.

At the same time, Chen Zhou, who had already selected his head in the crosshairs, pulled the trigger.

……

A bullet fired speaks louder than any words.

When lead bullets penetrated the eye sockets, when the back of the leader's head exploded like a smashed watermelon, and when red and white substances splashed on the faces and bodies of the surrounding natives, the crisp sound of gunfire shook everyone's ears.

bang~
A muffled sound followed the gunshot.

The leader still had an arrogant look on his face, but his eyes were forever frozen and his body was gradually turning cold.

The dull sound was the sound of him falling backwards and hitting the sand heavily.

……

Silence, deathly silence.

Fear overwhelmed the natives like a tide. Those who had been lying on the ground for a long time were shaking like sieves and did not dare to raise their heads.

The two men who were standing side by side with the leader felt their knees go weak and their bodies fell down. Their weak hands were completely unable to hold the knives in their hands.

……

The sudden gunshot not only shocked the natives, but also startled the dazed Saturday.

His palms, which were tightly gripping the knife handle and the rope, were already covered with sweat. In an instant, it seemed as if all sounds disappeared from his ears, leaving only the sound of his pounding heart and heavy breathing.

Things suddenly turned out like this. In panic, he forgot Chen Zhou's instructions and his own identity. He subconsciously wanted to lie on the ground and submit to the power of "God" together with those natives.

Fortunately, Sunday was standing next to him. Seeing his knees getting weaker and weaker, he reached out and grabbed the back of his clothes in time to prevent him from falling.

"Ah, what are you afraid of?
Stand firm and think about who you are! "

Sunday's voice was sonorous and powerful. He spoke Chinese, a language that only three people here could understand.

……

The natives were terrified and behaved differently on Saturday and Sunday.

Chen Zhou saw all these scenes. He quickly loaded the next bullet, narrowed his eyes slightly, and observed the reactions of the crowd with interest.

Chen Zhou had long known that Saturday's cowardice was a flaw in his nature.

But his meticulous mind and hard work in studying are not comparable to those on Sunday. In Chen Zhou's opinion, Saturday is more suitable for managing logistics.

He asked the two to go together this time because he wanted to observe the performance of the two natives and also to give Saturday a chance to see if he had the potential to be a "hard-core clerk".

The results were clear: Saturday's performance was disappointing compared to Sunday's tough performance.

"It seems that we will probably have to hand these people over to Sunday to manage them. However, he is sometimes too impulsive and may go to extremes..."

Chen Zhou was quite troubled as he didn't understand why the two natives, who had grown up in similar environments, had such different personalities.

In his opinion, Sunday's methods were definitely ruthless enough, and he definitely had the execution ability to do what he said.

But behind this decisive and ruthless attitude is a lack of thought, which can easily arouse public anger and trigger riots.

If some of Saturday's thoughtfulness could be shared with Sunday, and some of Sunday's radicalism could be shared with Saturday, they would all be excellent talents.

Unfortunately, human character cannot be changed easily.

Chen Zhou could only try his best to arrange the two of them to positions that suited them, and then select potential talents from other natives.

……

Werner had no idea what was happening on the beach.

He was running for his life, using up all his strength.

Finally, dragging his sprained leg that was unable to touch the ground, he half walked and half ran out of the forest and arrived at the beach, leaning on a wooden stick that served as a walking stick.

Before he reached the gathered natives, he saw Sunday and Saturday in the distance.

The two men were wearing clothes that looked out of place among the many natives, which surprised Werner.

He immediately stopped moving forward, crouched down and observed the two men's clothing and weapons to determine their threat and background.

……

I wash clothes diligently on Sundays and Saturdays to keep my sailor suit clean.

But a sailor suit is just a sailor suit after all. No matter how clean it is washed, it cannot escape the limitations of this era, and it does not look like a "superior" or an enemy from an unknown country.

What's more, Sundays and Saturdays are the natives whom Werner despises the most.

In his opinion, even if they were dressed in the Pope's robes, it would not change the nature of these indigenous wild monkeys.

Therefore, when he saw two clothed natives gibberishly giving orders to other natives, he was not afraid, but even laughed quietly in his heart.

Of course, Werner thinks he is not a brainless person.

He quickly connected the two clothed natives with the mysterious gunman and came up with his own theory.

Mixing with the natives was always something Werner despised the most.

If it weren't for his companion "Captain Killian" who had proved his long-term vision and accurate judgment through correct decision-making over the years, Werner would never have gotten involved in this muddy water.

He forced himself to get on the canoe with the natives to the island. In fact, he didn't care about the twenty or so missing people. He just wanted to complete the mission in a perfunctory manner.

Then, when everything was over, he would use his huge fortune to buy a large piece of land in Brazil or some more livable place, and buy dozens of black slaves who were said to be stronger than donkeys and horses, and live comfortably as a plantation owner and enjoy life.

Now, these beautiful visions are almost shattered.

Werner originally thought that he was on the verge of despair, but after seeing the two clothed natives, his thoughts changed.

In the past, he thought that the "ghost" was a cold-blooded killer with a quick mind, a strong body, and who mastered some technology to optimize the structure of the musket. He lived alone on an isolated island and was surrounded by a mysterious aura.

Now that he had discovered the killer's companions and saw how weak and ridiculous they were, he began to equate Chen Zhou, who had never shown up, with the natives.

No wonder.

After all, Chen Zhou never showed up from beginning to end, and the improved rifle in his hand only showed the advantages of range and accuracy.

Before he actually started to reload quickly, Werner, who had only seen various types of matchlock guns, would never have imagined that there was such a gun in the world that could shoot so accurately, far and fast.

However, although Werner looked down on the "ghosts" who were associated with the natives, he knew that he had no guns or cannons and was no match for the ghost. So he temporarily kept his troops in place, waiting for the next shot to be fired before stepping forward to command the natives to push the canoe and escape to the sea.

……

This time the wait was not nearly as long as last time.

Only two or three minutes later, gunshots were heard from the other side of the beach.

Seeing the "outsider" get his head shattered by a bullet, Werner's already weakened sense of awe returned to his mind.

No matter how dumb he was, he could see the powerful performance of this new type of firearm.

He knew in his heart that his only chance of escaping was to seize the time to reload the bullets and use tough measures to make the natives unite and push the boat into the sea.

Werner quickly stood up and while limping forward, he pulled out the exquisite long knife at his waist with the hand that was not holding the stick.

……

"You bunch of idiots, get up and run!
If we don’t leave now, it will be too late. If we don’t leave now, we will all die here!”

Werner was so emotional that he almost screamed out these words.

Unfortunately, because he looked down on the natives, he had not learned a single word of their language after nearly a hundred days of contact with them, and usually communicated through yelling and beating.

These crazy words not only failed to arouse the frightened natives, but instead attracted the attention of Sunday.

……

The boy was nearly 1.75 meters tall, more than half a head taller than the natives of his generation, and even compared with Werner, he was still slightly taller.

Because he does heavy physical work and is in his growth period with a strong ability to absorb nutrients, there is not much flesh on his cheeks, leaving only a straight nose bridge and slightly narrow, eagle-like eyes.

Looking coldly at the yelling brown-haired man, seeing that he was leaning on a wooden stick and was obviously injured, Sunday silently patted Saturday's shoulder, motioning him to calm down.

Then, he dropped the rope in his hand, gently grasped the cold iron knife in his hand, and made a knife flower.

Instead of stepping back, he took a step forward and stood right in front of all the natives, almost right next to the other two "troublemakers" who were lying on the ground.

Half of his attention was on the brown-haired man, and the other half was on the natives lying on the ground.

Sunday's gaze grew colder.

He was waiting, waiting for the second person who dared to resist to appear——

He thought it was a shame that he failed to decisively kill the first rebel and instead let the "God" take action.

The warriors of the tribe will never forget the bloodshed in the conflict, nor the lives they have taken.

Under the gaze of "God", he can be as gentle as a lamb.

But if anyone offends the majesty of "God", the knife in his hand will show no mercy.

This time around, expect a much better performance on Sunday.

……

“Are you all deaf?
Look who I am?
Who brought you to the island? Who led you to victory? Who replaced your broken wooden swords?

If you don't want to die, get up and push your boat!"

Time passed by minute by minute. Werner knew that the longer he delayed, the more likely he would die. Seeing that the natives remained indifferent, he became furious.

He only regretted that he did not carry a whip with him, otherwise he would have to whip these "wild monkeys" severely and tell them what punishment they would receive if they disobeyed.

……

Werner, who had returned, had long been influential among the natives.

Normally he would either beat or scold this group of people, but the natives just fell for it.

They worship violence and the strong, and although some people feel resentful and dissatisfied after being beaten, there are also people who admire Werner and hope to submit to him.

The sound of gunfire and the sight of dead natives frightened some, but Werner's fearless attitude and the Spanish marauders' long-standing godlike performance inspired some.

Just like Saturday and Sunday, I relied on Chen Zhou and drew confidence from him.

When some natives saw Werner, their broken spines instantly grew back and they regained the strength to resist.

……

Soon, a native who was also holding a knife got rid of his fallen state, glanced at his fellow tribesmen with contempt, and stood up decisively.

The native got up quickly, and Sunday moved faster—

Like a leopard ready to pounce, he took a step forward and grabbed the native's messy and dirty hair.

Although Sunday is young, his life on the island has made his body much healthier than other malnourished natives.

This blow was both precise and powerful, and it directly pushed down the native's head.

Before the native could struggle to get up, Sunday kicked him hard on the bare shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

The knife in the owner's hand fell to the sand as his body fell.

The native was so frightened by the pain that his eyes were full of ferocity. Just as he was about to get up and fight Sunday to the death, he was kicked again.

This kick was even stronger than the previous one, and it landed directly on the native's chest, making it impossible for him to resist.

Then, Sunday thrust the sharp blade in his hand downwards, tearing open the dark throat of the native.

……

Killing a man is no more difficult for Sunday than killing a fish or a sheep.

After being away from the battlefield for a long time, he even missed the excitement of life and death being just a thought away, as well as the long-lost smell of blood.

The artery was cut and blood gushed out of the native's neck like a fountain.

The desire to survive was more important than anything else, and he struggled with all his strength to get rid of Sunday's foot and away from the knife.

But the constantly flowing blood also took away his strength and life.

After a fierce struggle, his arms that were supporting the ground became weaker and weaker, and only vague groans came from his throat and blood foam flowed from the corners of his mouth.

……

In just a dozen seconds, the native who was the first to respond to Werner became a victim of Sunday's knife.

Looking at the bloodstains that spread and dyed the sand red, Sunday frowned slightly - clothes stained by blood are difficult to wash.

He calmly moved his foot away from the native, turned his head, and looked at Werner, who was leaning on the stick, with contempt and provocation.

"Why don't you shout?"

Speaking standard Chinese, Sunday shook off the blood on the blade, casually rubbed the back of another native beside him, and turned to Werner, as if talking to him.

……

It was the first time Werner heard this language, a language so different from the native language.

But what shocked him even more was Sunday's look.

He witnessed fierce and bloody fights between indigenous tribes and even witnessed barbaric cannibalism.

Savage, fierce, ignorant, cruel, hungry...

All kinds of expressions that symbolize backwardness and inferiority are common among the members of these isolated island tribes.

But in addition to determination and ferocity, there was another look on Sunday's face that Werner couldn't understand.

arrogant.

It was a look of equality, even looking down on him, with no fear in her eyes.

The man looked at him as he looked at other natives, with a sense of superiority.

Werner didn't know what gave the clothed native the confidence to be so arrogant.

He gripped the knife tighter, his knuckles turning white.

But he quietly took a step back without leaving any trace.

This natural bandit, who had always been rude and unreasonable and regarded the indigenous people as inferior races, had to admit it.

Facing this childish, cruel, and ruthless native, he was afraid. (End of this chapter)