Alien creatures destroy homes? Start by killing upright apes!

No one can answer this question.

Because yesterday these hominids were scattered on the lawn, like a flock of free-range sheep.

Overnight, they transformed into a neat and eerily orderly square formation.

"Send someone in to check," David ordered.

Ten minutes later, a young army lieutenant was sent into the enclosure.

He carefully approached the edge of the formation, rifle in hand.

The upright apes did not attack him, nor did they even look at him—all of their eyes remained fixed on the direction of No. 10 Sugar Lane.

The lieutenant mustered his courage and took a few more steps forward.

The first upright ape in the front row suddenly turned its head and looked at him with its clear black and white eyes.

Just one glance.

The lieutenant later said that at that moment he felt he wasn't being watched by an animal, but by a person.

There was no ferocity in those eyes, only a quiet, scrutinizing gaze, even with a sense of superiority.

It's like a teacher sizing up a student who isn't doing well academically.

The lieutenant practically ran out of the fence.

After hearing the report, Prime Minister David remained silent for a long time.

Then he said, "Increase the patrols and monitor them 24/7. Report any unusual behavior from these alien dark upright apes immediately."

He paused, then added, "Also, take down the front page of yesterday's newspaper, 'The Upright Ape: The Most Gentle Foreign Visitor of the Century.'"

……

Taro Tanuki Country, Kyoto.

Prime Minister Massa has not slept well for three days.

It wasn't because he was busy with official duties, but because of the three upright apes in his courtyard.

Three days ago, they were just randomly scratching the ground with twigs.

Yesterday, they started using twigs dipped in rainwater to draw on the stones.

This morning, when Massa got up, he found that the largest dry landscape stone in the courtyard had been covered with patterns.

It's not the kind of random scribbling.

It is a neat, regular pattern, and even a kind of aesthetically pleasing pattern.

Circles, triangles, and squares are arranged neatly, like some kind of primitive writing.

"Summon biologists from Kyoto University." Massa's voice was calm, but his hand holding the teacup trembled slightly. "Now!"

The biologists arrived an hour later.

He squatted in front of that rock for a long time, then stood up, his face very pale.

"Your Excellency, these patterns are not random."

"What do you mean?"

"We counted a total of 147 patterns on the stone. Circles appeared 48 times, triangles 39 times, and squares 60 times. If it were random graffiti, the number of the three types of patterns should be roughly equal, but the number of squares is significantly higher, which indicates—"

The biologist swallowed hard.

"This shows that they are selective in their drawing; they prefer square shapes."

The teacup in Massa's hand made a slight clinking sound.

"And..." the biologist pointed to a row of small patterns on the edge of the stone.

"Look here! These seven patterns are arranged in a row, all exactly the same size, and almost equally spaced. This isn't graffiti anymore; it's a deliberate arrangement. This is... this is..."

He didn't dare say that word.

But Massa said it for him: "This is written language."

The courtyard was so quiet that only the sound of the wind rustling through the bamboo leaves could be heard.

The three upright apes squatted in the corner, still clutching the branches, still looking at Massa with their clear black and white eyes.

One of them lowered its head and drew a new pattern on the ground with a twig.

A circle with a square inside.

Inside the square, there is a small circle.

It looks like an eye.

I'm watching Massa.

……

Waimeming Plains, Sam Eagle Country.

President Wood's eyes had been swollen for three days.

It wasn't from being beaten up, it was from staying up all night.

A huge map was spread out in front of him, covered with red crosses.

Each red cross represents a Tyrannosaurus Rex that has been killed.

Three days ago, there were only three red crosses.

Currently, the number of red crosses is zero.

It wasn't because they killed more Tyrannosaurus Rex, but because the three Tyrannosaurus Rex they had killed earlier had all disappeared.

The body has disappeared.

All that remained were three huge craters and black bloodstains all over the ground.

"Mr. President!" The Secretary of Defense burst through the door, his face pale. "Breaking report! The Tyrannosaurus Rex that was wounded by heavy machine gun fire yesterday has had its wounds completely healed this morning! And—"

"And what?"

"Moreover, its size has increased by about 15 percent compared to before the injury, and the length of its bite teeth has also increased."

The pen in Wood's hand snapped in two with a "crack".

"You mean, we fired two hundred bullets at it, and not only did it not die, it actually grew bigger?"

The defense minister nodded with difficulty.

The office door was pushed open again, and the Minister of Agriculture rushed in:

"Mr. President! The wheat fields in Kansas have been completely trampled by a swarm of Tyrannosaurus Rex! Three million acres! Not a single grain is left!"

Then, the Minister of Transport also squeezed in:

"Mr. President! The transcontinental railway has been bitten through in four places by Tyrannosaurus Rex! The east-west transport lines are completely paralyzed!"

Then, the finance minister practically came in crying:

"Mr. President! Insurance companies have sent a joint telegram stating that if the Tyrannosaurus Rex issue is not resolved soon, all insurance companies nationwide will go bankrupt within two weeks!"

Wood took a deep breath and said in a remarkably calm tone:

"So, in just three days, we lost three million acres of wheat fields, four major railway lines, and the entire national insurance industry, while the Tyrannosaurus Rex didn't lose a single one; in fact, it grew bigger. Is that what you mean?"

All four of them lowered their heads at the same time.

Wood walked to the window and looked at the billowing dust rising from the distant plains—the dust raised by the Tyrannosaurus Rex herds during their migration.

Twelve-meter-tall behemoths walked in herds across the land, each step causing the windowpanes to vibrate and rattle.

"Connect me to the Winners," Wood said through gritted teeth. "I need to speak with that guy named Lu Cheng."

……

Far Eastern wilderness, the Kingdom of Ivan Bear.

Chairman Fra stood at the edge of a birch forest, holding a pipe in his hand, but not lighting it.

He has been holding this position for ten minutes.

A huge pattern was drawn on the snow in front of us.

To be precise, it was drawn by several thousand upright apes together.

They used branches to draw a complete map on the snow—the location of the birch forest, the course of the river, the distribution of patrol stations, and the route of the steam snowmobiles.

Every detail is accurately marked, and the proportions are so precise it's mind-boggling.

"When was this map drawn?" Fra's voice was as cold as a winter in the Far East.

"Our patrol discovered it last night and this morning." The intelligence chief stood behind him, his voice trembling. "Comrade Chairman, there is a detail we must report to you."

"explain."

"The sentries at the patrol post heard some sounds last night, not shouts, but... knocking sounds, rhythmic knocking sounds. It was passed from one patrol post to the next, and then to the next, along the entire defensive line, very quickly."

Fula closed her eyes.

"They are using knocking sounds to communicate."