Humanity Forbidden Island [Complete] - Chapter 28

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Chapter 402 The Crow Feeder at the Quarry

"Don't scare yourself. There's no tunnel here," I replied reproachfully to Du Mo.

"But look! Look at this stone pillar, it's carved with totems. Could there be savages around here? Damn it, if they dare to come and hunt Du Mo's flesh at this time, I..."

Du Mo hadn't finished speaking when something crashed down on his head. "Ouch!" Du Mo was terrified, letting out a soft cry as he swung his gun to swat at the thing attacking him from above.

Thinking there were pirate soldiers lying in ambush nearby, I immediately crouched down, intending to draw my knife and stab him. But Du Mo was walking too fast, and he was more than ten meters ahead of me.

When I finally saw clearly, the thing that had fallen wasn't a dangerous object, but a half-dried, half-rotten naked corpse.

Dumo, who had been shivering from the cold, realized it was a false alarm. He immediately wiped the sweat from his brow and kicked the corpse, cursing under his breath.

"Damn it! God wouldn't greet Dumo like that. Demon, damned demon!" Dumo kicked the corpse again, still cursing relentlessly.

I rushed over, signaling Dumo not to be careless. Although we were at an altitude of nearly a thousand meters, the possibility of encountering the remaining pirates was still considerable.

"It's alright, Mr. Zhuima. Look, this is a mummified corpse. It's probably been dead for at least half a year." I knelt down to examine the body Dumo had kicked away. I found the deceased to be a black man in his thirties or forties. His body was covered in black rot and smelled foul, and his recently severed head was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it! I thought there were withered old vines hanging from this totem pole, and I wanted to pull it down to start a fire, but instead I pulled on the hanged ghost's toes!"

Du Mo said indignantly, rubbing his big, round black head. I picked up a long, thin stone and moved the lying corpse over. A smell like rotten wood mixed with rotten eggs hit my nose.

I'd smelled this hellish odor many times on the battlefield, when I was faking death among piles of corpses. As long as the gas didn't infect the flesh of the living, it wasn't a big deal.

The corpse's abdomen had been hollowed out, leaving only a half-skull pelvis, but two steel bars, each as thick as a middle finger, were pierced through its shoulders and two thighs.

"Oh my god! What kind of bastard did this? So cruel, throwing iron bars at a dead body! If he wanted to practice his savage spear-throwing skills, wouldn't it have been better to use a straw man as a target? He's a complete pervert. If I, Dumo, caught this guy, I'd slap his face until it was swollen like a Russian loaf of bread."

Dumo squatted down as well, his lingering fear now transformed into a furious outburst. "No, these steel bars were driven in while the person was still alive," I said coldly to Dumo, glancing around.

"What! Is there some evil religion here, sacrificing living people by nailing them to stone pillars?"

Dumo's eyes widened as he continued his wild speculations, "Damn it, they didn't nail them securely at all, it almost scared me to death. If I saw these barbaric bastards, I'd shoot them in the ass."

I shook my head, telling Dumo not to think about savages or demons. “These steel bars aren’t for securing the corpse, but for crows to perch on. They hammer the bars into the flesh of a living person, then inject them with a cardiac stimulant or morphine, and suspend them from a stone pillar with chains. Nearby crows and bats, drawn by the scent, swarm to peck at them. Look at the eye sockets and abdomen of this corpse; they’re like apples that have fallen on a tree in autumn, hollowed out by birds.”

Du Mo, horrified by my words, unconsciously swallowed and whispered, “What terrible crime must have been committed to deserve such punishment! It must be a hatred greater than the sky and deeper than the sea to go to such lengths and cruelly torture someone to death.”

I picked up the bundle from the ground and said to Du Mo, “Even though we’re standing on a chilling mountaintop, you can’t be careless. Remember to step carefully and never grab anything.”

Du Mo chuckled and nodded apologetically. "I... I was so cold that I couldn't stand it anymore, so I was in a hurry to find a place to light a small fire and warm myself up."

I didn't blame Du Mo for having this idea. Actually, I had the idea of warming myself up by the fire as well. Du Mo and I already had wounds on our bodies, and with the damp and cold weather, if we didn't dry our clothes and skin in time, we were afraid we would really get sick.

"Warming yourself by the fire is fine, but be careful. Otherwise, what if some pervert is hiding here and uses a tranquilizer gun on you? When you wake up, you'll find yourself hanging on a stone pillar, covered in crows. You might as well go enjoy the warmth by God's fireplace."

Dumo looked at me in surprise, as if I had made him even more afraid, but he mustered his courage and said, "I'm not afraid of being shot by enemy bullets, why would I be afraid of such a small trick?"

I didn't say anything, just gave a cold snort, but Dumo knew that being shot to death wasn't scary. What was scary was that the pain and process of death were deliberately prolonged and amplified. At that moment, everyone would probably understand in their hearts: "The devil is all around us, and hell is on earth."

Chapter 403: Buying Prey from Hell

Dumo and I walked forward more cautiously. After groping our way for about a hundred meters on the mountaintop, we came across more large piles of rocks.

Dumo turned around, pointing in surprise to a pile of large rocks. "Look," he said, "those rocks look like containers parked at the dock. Let's go inside and warm up. I'm so cold I can barely hold my rifle."

The fog was thicker around us, and we could clearly see our breath steaming in the air as we spoke. "Yeah, it's as cold as a late autumn morning,"

I said, shivering as I walked towards the pile of rocks, clutching my rifle. Each rock was about the size of a small pavilion, leaving gaps more than a meter wide under the pile.

Dumo and I carefully checked our surroundings to make sure there was nothing amiss before crawling under the rocks. Once we were completely relaxed, the bone-chilling cold intensified.

Amidst the jumbled rocks on the mountaintop, some shrubs grew haphazardly, but most of them were damp and difficult to light.

Dumo, with his large buttocks sticking out, used a dagger to chop off the withered tree roots and dry vines that had spread into the crevices of the rocks, then piled them up. Because these plants were encased in stone, they were quite dry, and they caught fire after a few tries with a windproof lighter.

Seeing the flames, the warmth and comfort we felt for Dumo and me was overwhelming. Dumo quickly sat down by the fire, took off his boots, and lifted his two blackened, almost purple feet high over the flames to dry them.

At that moment, I also took off my wet clothes and laid them on the hot stone to dry. Dumo flashed a bright white smile, thoroughly enjoying himself. "God is so merciful, creating fire! It's so satisfying to roast your feet!"

I, naked, examined my skin and sneered at Dumo, "Hmph, if you were an animal, you wouldn't think that way!"

Dumo chuckled, quickly pulling his feet back to avoid getting too close to the flames and getting burned.

"Look at you," I said, "I really want to take a gun and go out to hunt some game, to make you my signature dishes, whether it's roasted pheasant wings or smoked wild boar trotters, I'm an expert."

Dumo grew up in poverty and famine in Africa; he was truly terrified of hunger, which is why he longed for an environment surrounded by raw meat and vegetables. His passion for cooking was actually a desire to reside in his dream paradise.

"Add more firewood, make the fire as strong as possible, but don't let too much smoke come out. Although the thick fog on the mountaintop can confuse the smoke signals, if the smell of burning plants drifts into the nose of someone nearby, we'll be exposed."

Urged on by me, Du Mo also took off his wet clothes, revealing his dark, muscular body. Seeing him, I felt like I had returned to the era of primitive humans.

"Mr. Zhuima, I have a question I don't understand," Du Mo asked.

"Go ahead." I dried my damp, cold skin while pondering the cave.

"You said there are so many large rocks on this mountaintop, and many of them show signs of being carved. I increasingly feel that this is like an abandoned quarry. But who would come to a mountaintop at an altitude of 1,000 meters to mine rocks? The investment cost would far exceed the profit."

Although Du Mo's questions weren't directly related to rescuing Yi Liang and the others, it was still necessary to understand the surrounding situation before we left.

"This mountaintop either has rare mineral deposits or is being developed for tourism," Dumo said dismissively. He retorted, "Tourism? Who would be so bored as to come here to look at rocks? Besides, this isn't like my hometown, with its many ancient African totems. Look at these stone pillars; the totems on them are all fakes. Only a rich fool would come here to experience the history of human civilization."

Dumo fiddled with the damp clothes he was drying, continuing in his simple-minded manner, "If you're talking about rare metals, unless it's a large carat gemstone, even if the gold content is high, nobody would want to come here."

We dried our clothes for over an hour before finally putting them back on, one by one. The contact between the dry cotton and dry skin was indescribably pleasant.

"Hehe, so comfortable, so comfortable!" Dumo crossed his legs again, leaned back on his backpack, and smacked his lips as he ate beef jerky.

I looked up at Dumo and said expressionlessly, "Dumo, you probably haven't even heard of the tourist resources I'm talking about."

Seeing that I had spoken to him, Dumo quickly sat up, his eyes wide, and asked, "What tourist resources? Are they fun?"

I sat cross-legged near the fire, wiping the sniper rifle on my lap, and casually replied to Dumo, "They're completely uninteresting to you and me, but for the kind of rich fool you're talking about, they're full of novelty and excitement."

Dumo blinked his large, round eyes, his interest piqued, and pressed on, "What exactly are they? Mr. Chasing Horse, tell me quickly!" I switched to a second sniper rifle and continued wiping it with deerskin.

"It's about forcibly throwing living people into a primitive survival environment. If someone is willing to pay a high price, they can come in with a rifle and, within a certain area, track and hunt these modern prey that have been reduced to the Stone Age."

Dumo's eyes suddenly swelled, almost reaching the size of ping-pong balls. “Damn it, they treat killing like a game,” Dumo cursed, then lay back down listlessly.

“If I were ever dragged into a place like that, I’d grab a rifle and kill them all, one by one, to show them what real thrills are.”

Dumo was a Black man who deeply hated the slave trade and that history, even though it had no direct connection to him today. His soul, beneath his black skin, yearned for freedom. Therefore, he loathed anything that treated people like dirt.

“Oh! I see. You mean, carving tribal totems on these mountaintops is actually a way to create a bloody tourist attraction. Those rich fools can come down in helicopters, cigars in their mouths, rifles in their hands, enjoying the thrill of hunting down living tribespeople.”

I didn’t speak. While I couldn’t be entirely certain, these mountaintops were most likely used for that kind of thing. However, my words had given Dumo pause for thought, and that was more important than anything else.

Chapter 404: The Cigarette-Smoking Old Man

"Damn it, why don't they let us go play with those rich fools? I, Du Mo, could take a gun from those cigar-smoking old men with my bare hands and then castrate them with a dagger."

I blankly raised my head and looked out through the crack in the pile of rocks. The surrounding fog was still thick and gloomy, with no sign of sunlight, which made me a little anxious.

I looked away, pulled my bundle over to find some food, and said to Du Mo, "Hmph, you said it yourself, who would capture a guy like you, a strong soldier, to be hunted by those rich fools? If they accidentally let a kodo beast like you in, then they'd be the ones hunting you."

Du Mo chuckled after hearing this, as if he was much relieved, and said easily. “These guys, relying on their accumulated capital, play all sorts of high-risk tricks without taking any responsibility themselves. If they were put on a fair stage, they'd be terrified.”

I let out a heavy sigh. Although I was discussing these sensational matters with Dumo, what was weighing on my mind was the current location of the Sea Demon.

“Dumo, do you understand?” I asked in a low voice.

Dumo was sitting with his legs crossed, head in his hands, leaning against his pack, chewing on dried meat, seemingly resting with his eyes closed.

But when he suddenly heard my inexplicable question, he immediately stopped chewing and stared wide-eyed at the stone ceiling.

"What? Got it?" I raised my rifle, propped it against a nearby rock, and said to Dumo, "This quarry on the mountaintop, though abandoned, hasn't stopped operating, and you and I have been forcibly thrown in."

Dumo immediately shuddered, exclaiming in surprise, "What? Mr. Chase, do you have the ability to see ghosts? Is it haunted?"

I pursed my lips, glanced at Dumo, and said with a hint of reproach, "With your strength, in this pirate war, although you're still nominally a strong soldier, in reality, your value has been depreciated."

After saying that, I stopped talking. Dumo clutched his large head, his eyes darting around.

“My God! In this battle, compared to everyone else, aren’t I just one of those unarmed, living dead tribes? Being attacked by the Prisoner of Love and that guy with the armor-piercing rounds is like being sent to be shot by those cigar-smoking old men!”

Dumo suddenly realized, but he knew that what I really wanted to tell him wasn’t something that was in the past and no longer relevant.

“Dumo, actually, I’m in the same situation as you. Although I’m still holding a sniper rifle, this is exactly my position. I reckon even someone like the Prisoner of Love is showing signs of becoming a living dead tribe.”

My words left Dumo somewhat bewildered, but after tilting his head and thinking for half a minute, he immediately asked alertly, “You mean, someone wants to use this pirate battle as a tourist attraction and has brought in the cigar-smoking old man. And this old man not only has enormous capital, but his strength is also quite terrifying, and his methods are extremely cruel!”

Dumo looked at me in surprise. I was silent for a moment, then nodded to him.

"The corpse you tore off the pillar like a dead tree wasn't, as you think, an ordinary miner or a passenger who was hijacked and dumped on the island."

Dumo's eyes widened as he asked, "How do you know?"

With Dumo's current strength, he couldn't directly confront the eight legendary headhunter clans and the Demon Clan. Even I myself wouldn't dare to face them head-on.

I'll need Dumo a lot in the future, and if I want to make him my right-hand man, then from now on, I can try to let him know some things.

I continued Dumo's question, saying, "Although the eye sockets and lower abdomen of that corpse were hollowed out by crows or bats, there were marks on the back indicating that a large piece of flesh had been cut off with a dagger before death, and these marks extended from the victim's neck to their cheek."

After saying this, I looked up at Dumo. He didn't say anything, only swallowed hard, and continued to stare at me expectantly.

"Do you remember that Burmese woman who made you uneasy? When we first met at the Bua Lai apartment, we fought in the bathroom. At that time, her body...; and the cage on the face of the child lover wasn't tattooed directly on it, but rather extended from the pattern on her back."

Upon hearing this, Dumo immediately shuddered. "You mean, you mean, the flesh that was cut from that corpse was a human skin totem?"

I nodded and continued to Dumo, "The people Jason Jody hired aren't ordinary assassins. To establish yourself in the international headhunting market, you first need the ability to become a headhunter yourself."

I glanced at Dumo and said coldly, "This level isn't as simple as becoming a pirate soldier. The people Jason Jody hired at great expense are legendary figures in the headhunting world. So, you should understand now that Lian Qiutong is a very dark guy. It's not surprising that he stabbed you in the back and even destroyed your mental world."

After hearing this, Dumo chuckled, but his heart was pounding like a rabbit.

"Alas! What a cruel twist of fate! In my entire life, it's already a great achievement to have become a pirate soldier. But after meeting those headhunters on the ship, I finally understand why, apart from the old captain, those usually arrogant pirates on the Sea Demon suddenly became so meek and subdued. The difference, the difference is truly staggering!"

I ignored Du Mo's lament and continued to tell him.

"Among headhunters, the human skin totem on an assassin's body is like a symbol of status. I'm not entirely sure of the specifics, but I do know one thing: the higher the totem spreads up the spine, the more missions the assassin has completed, and the higher their success rate. And the price offered to hire such a person will inevitably be shockingly high."

Du Mo was somewhat surprised, his eyes brimming with excitement, yet also fear, as he said, "So, if someone at my level were to go to civilian areas, to Africa, to carry out missions to kill warlords, and had a totem tattooed on their face, could they also demand exorbitant prices?"

I knew Du Mo wasn't just joking; since he said this now, it meant he genuinely intended to do so in the future, and also wanted to earn those high commissions like headhunters.

So, I poured cold water on my advice, saying, "But these headhunters, if they don't have the strength, recklessly extending their totems is absolutely courting death. As the saying goes, 'If you're not the worm, you can't crawl into that kind of wood.' Recklessly impersonating someone will inevitably lead to a terrible death."

Chapter 405: A Huge Face

"Now you understand, right, Dumo?" I questioned Dumo again.

Dumo, still shaken, said, "Hearing you say that, I feel a chill run down my spine. Sending assassins of this level, like headhunters, to this mountaintop as targets for a hunting game—isn't that obviously suicide? But there's actually someone with that kind of strength! He's not an ordinary person; he's practically a demon. My God! Have mercy! Please don't let kind Dumo come into contact with that kind of guy." As

Dumo spoke, he actually closed his eyes devoutly and made the sign of the cross with his chubby black hand.

"Hmph! You think you're so kind? You're joking with God. If I were God, I'd tell you to put out this fire first, lest the devil's nose smell it."

Dumo immediately opened his eyes, picked up a branch, and stirred out the embers. "Mr. Chase, who do you think possesses such terrifying hunting skills, daring to treat the headhunters as mere playthings?" Dumo asked nervously and mysteriously.

I thought for a moment and said to Dumo, "Don't forget, on this vast Chagos Islands, it's not just the Pirate King and Jason Jody who are fighting."

Dumo slapped his shiny black forehead, lamenting regretfully, "Oh! Good heavens! I completely overlooked the American and British naval forces stationed here."

I originally didn't want to tell Dumo about this, but I had been pondering it. The pirate battle was so fierce; with the equipment of the American and British troops stationed on the islands, it was impossible for them not to notice.

But why hadn't they taken any action? It was possible that Jason Jody had bribed his way in and obtained the tacit approval of the American and British troops stationed on the islands.

However, given the American and British style of thinking, which almost entirely revolves around weighing interests, even if they've taken the pirates' money, they won't just hide in their tents and sleep, passively waiting. They're undoubtedly pondering how to maximize the benefits of this cooperation.

In this grand pirate showdown, the Pirate King has been secretly maneuvering, hiring four top experts from the eight legendary headhunting clans at great expense. Add to that the eleven guardian demons by his side, and Jason Jody will naturally appear much weaker in this battle.

Besides his elite pirate troops, he only has three legendary headhunters and myself to fight in this fierce pirate conflict.

But since Jason Jody dares to accept the challenge, it means he's not giving up easily. This old guy must have outside help, and his most likely source of support is troops transferred from the Chagos garrison.

Of course, given the current situation in the Somali waters, especially the Gulf of Aden, pirate forces have a sensitive relationship with American politics. In the little-known pirate battle on the Chagos Islands, the official US and British forces naturally cannot openly participate.

If they were to mobilize naval and air forces to surround and land on the islands, killing only the pirate king while protecting Jason Jody, any future leaks would inevitably affect the political image of the US and UK on international anti-piracy issues.

Countries send troops to the Gulf of Aden to fight pirates for their own interests, but when a pirate leader like Jason Jody offers a substantial reward, who wouldn't try to manipulate the situation?

However, if this affects the recently elected US President Obama and his healthy political image, then the wealth offered by Jason Jody would be a huge loss for the US.

As the saying goes, "the mountains are high and the emperor is far away," a principle that applies to every country, but the results vary.
Some local governments in certain countries, taking advantage of their remoteness and distance from central authority, adhere to a policy of adapting to local conditions to benefit their people and strengthen the nation. Others, however, use this advantage to cultivate an image of short-sightedness and enrich themselves.

The US and UK have always been cunning in their foreign policy, and the troops stationed on the Chagos Islands are no exception. Geographically, it's located in the central Indian Ocean, far from the Gulf of Aden.

Politically, the Chagos Islands troops are not directly involved, and when faced with international anti-piracy scrutiny, they have the right to be surprised and claim ignorance.

The benefits Jason Jody presented to the Chagos Islands troops were undeniably tempting. If they could obtain these benefits without incurring any costs, I think only a merciful God, or someone like God under the constraints of heavenly laws, would remain inactive.

As for how much the Chagos Islands troops received from Jason Jody, and whether those benefits were used to benefit the American people, I have no way of knowing.

But one thing I knew perfectly well was that although I hoped the American and British troops could surround the island and wipe out the pirates so that I could get my women and lead them out of this treacherous web of intrigue,

after several days of fighting, the troops stationed on Diego Garcia, the largest island at the southernmost tip of the archipelago, had not made any move.

If they secretly collude with the Sea Demon, using this wealth to improve the living standards of the American and British people and to strengthen their military capabilities, then I can only continue to grit my teeth and struggle to escape under this huge mask of harmony.

After extinguishing the fire, Dumo quickly wiped the bits of meat from the corner of his mouth. He began to check his weapons and fully arm himself with all his gear, as if the demon he feared was about to arrive or was nearby.

"Oh dear! This is unbelievable. Mr. Chase, what are those US Marines doing here? Are they here for 'peacekeeping'?" Dumo said reluctantly.

"Hmph! Dream on. They've probably deployed their secretly trained Ghost Snipers to the island for training. Judging from the drying time, that corpse you dragged off the pillar has been there for at least three months. Clearly, the troops stationed on these islands not only know about the Headhunters, but probably know even more, perhaps far more than you and I."

Dumo glanced impatiently outside the cave, seeing the fog still thick, and immediately complained, "Honestly, instead of training properly in the army, they have to meddle at this crucial moment. I, Dumo, am just a lowly pirate soldier; what difference does it make if they shoot me or a target? Those officers are such blockheads."

I tucked my Barrett sniper rifle into the leather strap, then turned to Dumo solemnly and said, "Dumo, in this sea..." In the midst of the fighting, if ten or twenty heavily trained Marine Corps "battlefield ghosts" were deployed for training, and even just one returned alive to impart their insights to the entire army, what a leap forward that would be! This value judgment is probably a major reason why Jason Yodeken was accepted by the stationed troops. "

Chapter 406: The Mountain Fog That Devours the Living"

Dumo shook his large head, slung his heavy backpack over his shoulder, patted the dirt off his backside, and said to me, "Mr. Chase Horse, I think we should hurry up and find the Sea Demon as soon as possible. After rescuing them, we'll escape and go back to my hometown to hide for a while."

Seeing that Dumo was even more anxious than me to find the cave's location, I couldn't help but smile secretly. I stood up, and the two of us, rifles in hand, crawled out from under the pile of rocks.

"Wow! Such thick fog! Our clothes, which have dried in the sun, will be soaked again in no time," Dumo exclaimed in surprise.

“I’ll walk ahead, you stay close, don’t be more than five meters apart. Also, watch out behind you, be careful of knives sticking out of the fog and slicing your neck off.”

After hearing my warning, Dumo subconsciously stretched his neck and stuck out his tongue at me, but he knew in his heart that I was not exaggerating.

We were both covered in camouflage netting, walking forward along the crisscrossing large rocks. If there was any danger, Dumo and I would immediately crouch down, making ourselves look like low shrubs growing among the rocks.

At this moment, the fog in the surrounding air showed no signs of weakening, but was still falling.

I reached out and grabbed a handful of water vapor floating in front of my eyes, and found that the humidity was very high, and the visibility ahead had already reduced to three or four meters. Dumo followed closely behind me like a turtle shaking its head, afraid of getting lost.

At this time and place, if we separated, it would be very easy to get separated, even if we were within twenty or thirty meters of each other, but we couldn’t shout, and the more we tried to find each other, the further we would drifted apart.

I warned Dumo to watch his step, lest he step into a crevice in the mountain or fall off a thousand-meter-high cliff. If that happened, the mountain fog would truly devour him, a truly troublesome and dangerous situation.

At this point, neither of us could distinguish east from west. The islands and deep valleys below were completely shrouded in a thick fog, revealing only a vast expanse of milky white – a truly magnificent sight.

The towering waterfalls on the islands, whose locations were impossible to discern, echoed with a thunderous roar.

I led Dumo cautiously up the mountain, as if the path would never end.

But as we walked, a stone pillar appeared again amidst the swirling mist. I was startled, thinking Dumo and I had lost our way and were going in circles.

But then I saw that the upper half of the pillar was hidden in the fog, and only halfway up the pillar was a pair of purplish, bare feet hanging from it. Only then did I realize I hadn't lost my way.

“God certainly can’t see this. Look, Mr. Chase, this place is practically a hellish execution ground. If it weren’t for this thick fog, who knows how many corpses of the headhunters would be hanging here. It seems there’s more than one demon here.”

I told Dumo not to touch the corpses hanging from the stone pillars, lest the long-decayed filth fall again.

Dumo continued to follow behind me. The further we went, the more stone pillars appeared ahead, each one completely obscured by the fog at the top, with a pair of bare feet hanging from a corpse visible in the middle.

“Shh!” Dumo behind me was about to mutter in surprise again, but I quickly stopped him. I pointed at Dumo, indicating that he should communicate with hand gestures, and he nodded eagerly, his eyes wide.

Walking among the stone pillars, which were like a forest of corpses, gave one an indescribable sense of unease. If these corpses were lying on the ground, no matter how haphazardly they lay, I wouldn’t be surprised. Hanging from these stone pillars, carved with eerie totems, gave off a chilling, sinister feeling.

I kept my body low to the ground, trying to avoid the corpses' feet touching my head, and Du Mo followed suit cautiously behind me.

Suddenly, a drop of icy water fell from the mist above and landed right on my neck. The feeling was like being snuggled up in bed on a cold winter's day and suddenly having a handful of ice shards stuffed into your mouth—it almost made me jump.

I could clearly feel that what had dripped onto my neck was both cold and sticky; if it were the stench of rotting corpses hanging from the pillar, it would be truly disgusting.

I quickly stopped and touched the back of my neck. When I pinched and rubbed it between my fingers, it really did feel like icy paste. But when I brought it to my nose and sniffed, it was a strong, unexpected, and pungent stench of decay.

Dumo, his large head bobbing, squeezed in, his eyes wide as he stared at what was on my finger. We were both startled.

It wasn't dew, nor was it the sludge from a rotting corpse; it was a drop of human blood.

If a corpse were hanging in the mist above me, judging from the freshness of the blood, the body had been dead for no more than fifteen hours.

This was enough to prove that someone had come here last night while Dumo and I rested at the foot of the mountain and hung a body on a stone pillar.

I quickly took off the pack from my back, handed the sniper rifle to Dumo, then pulled the dagger from my calf, bit it in my mouth, and began climbing the blood-dripping pillar beside me.

"Oh my god! You're incredibly brave to climb a pillar like that!" Dumo exclaimed, his face tilted back in astonishment.

"What courage? Do you think I wanted this? Watch out for our surroundings, we're in grave danger now."

My heart pounded as I climbed the upper half of the mist-shrouded stone pillar, informing Dumo below.

Chapter 407: The Demon Egg in the Totem

Climbing the cold, damp stone pillar, I pushed through the swirling mist and ascended. The pillar was over three meters tall, its surface carved with bizarre faces—not benevolent bodhisattvas, but hideous, grotesque demon faces.

Especially at the top, when I chopped off the vines clinging to it with my dagger, I saw stone carvings resembling deformed fetuses. They looked like sleeping babies on a placenta, except they had tails, fangs at the corners of their mouths, and round, pointed ears.

Clinging to the stone pillar, I looked at the totems up close, my heart pounding with fear. Although I didn't know what these ancient totem inscriptions represented, they were certainly symbols of darkness and evil.

Especially the inscription of the deformed fetus—it was as if a winged demon had landed on the pillar and laid eggs to give birth to a demonic child.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, what's going on up there? Are you alright?" I was staring blankly at the eerie totems on the pillar when Du Mo suddenly called out to me in a low voice.

He couldn't see me disappearing into the mist, and seeing that I hadn't moved for a while, he asked anxiously. Actually, in this situation, not only Du Mo, but even I was afraid of being alone. Having someone to look after me was better than anything else.

"Oh! I'm fine. Keep an eye on things down below. I'll be down soon." With that, I wrapped my legs around the pillar, used my hands to lift the iron chain, and removed the iron ring from the hook embedded in the top of the pillar.

With a thud, the corpse with the iron chain around its neck fell to the ground. I immediately jumped down to examine the body that had been hung there not long ago.

"Oh my God! This is terrible! How did this guy end up hanging here? We... we've really stumbled into hell. These corpses on the pillars must have died in battle and entered the cycle of nothingness. Those who went to heaven ascended, while those who went to hell floated down and hung on the pillars."

I glared at Du Mo and scolded, "Stop talking nonsense. Control your mind and emotions. If you keep spouting this nonsense, I'll feel a chill run down my spine."

Du Mo's eyes widened in resentment as he continued, his voice tense, "But look, isn't this... isn't this the mercenary we killed in the Yama Factory in Mauritius!"

By this point, Du Mo's eyes were almost bloodshot. I quickly crouched down to look, only to see that what lay on the ground was still a naked corpse, but this time, the corpse wore an iron mask.

This mask, as if hammered for years, was weathered and worn, with countless tiny holes on both sides of the face, pierced with colorful animal bristles.

The deceased also had a high ponytail at the back of his head, but it was stained with blood, clearly indicating that he had lain on a torture bed before his death.

Seeing this, I jumped back abruptly, and Du Mo immediately turned around, ready to flee.

Only then did I realize I had wronged Du Mo; this corpse was exactly the same as the Iron-Faced Demon I had slaughtered in the Yama's Factory.

My heart suddenly clenched, and I quickly closed my eyes, refusing to look around. Finally, I silently recited, "Merciful Lord, please use your holy scriptures to drive away the unclean things from my body and nerves..."

Seeing my sudden reaction, Dumo exclaimed in surprise, "Mr. Zhuima, this is no longer God's territory! What are you praying for? Let's hurry and run down the mountain the way we came!"

Actually, Dumo didn't know that I wasn't praying, but forcing myself to calm down. Because I knew I might have seen those unclean things again. Someone like me, who had killed countless people, had suffered too much mental stimulation, so I was prone to hallucinations from time to time.

When I opened my eyes, I found the corpse wearing the iron mask still lying on the ground, while Dumo, like a runner, was bent over, ready to start at any moment, staring at me with a furious, dark face.

I examined the corpse's wrists and discovered that both tendons had been severed. This confirmed my suspicion that the man before me wasn't the Iron-Faced Demon who died in Mauritius, as Dumo had claimed, who had floated to the pillar after death because he couldn't go to heaven and we'd met today.

Most importantly, I could confirm I wasn't hallucinating. My tension immediately eased, and I crouched down at the corpse, dagger in hand.

After removing the mask characteristic of the Sel Demon mercenaries, I wanted to check if one eye had been slashed. If not, it further proved this wasn't the same person I'd killed.

However, the corpse's face only had two large, dark holes; the eyeballs had been gouged out.

"My God! This place is hell! Look at Mr. Zhuima, crows have pecked his eyes out."

I looked up at Dumo and said seriously, "Stop being paranoid. This guy is a sniper assassin. He was probably captured alive, and his eyes were gouged out with spoons. You'd better calm down. There's nothing supernatural here. I suspect there are other enemies on this island that neither of us knows about. Stop thinking about useless things. The weapon is right in your hand! Shoot them down, and you won't be hanging on a stone pillar."

Dumo's dark face almost turned green. He quickly picked up his sniper rifle and peered into the fog-shrouded surroundings. “Mr. Zhui Ma, how can the garrison on this island be so cruel! They kill people and hang them on such a high mountaintop, it's like they're worshipping some mountain spirit or sea god.”

“No. The army wouldn't do something so pointless. They might use cruel torture on prisoners of war when strategically necessary, but there's no need to hang corpses on the island’s top.” I thought for a moment and said to Du Mo, who was almost at his wit’s end.

“Exactly. People like us, even if they capture us alive, we have no money, no hatred, no reason to torture anyone.” Du Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead and quickly gripped his sniper rifle.

“I don’t think this fog will stop. Staying here is just asking for trouble. We have to leave as soon as possible, the farther the better.” With that, I pushed the corpse lying on the ground under a large rock, then slung my pack over my shoulder, grabbed my sniper rifle, and began leading Du Mo forward, step by step.

"These things have nothing to do with us. If we unfortunately encounter that demon, I think we'll just get dragged into this mess. Mr. Zhui Ma, wouldn't it be great if people could become invisible? I could turn into a wisp of gas, and as long as I keep my mouth shut, no one would be able to detect me."

Chapter 408: The Weeping Monk on the Mountain Top.
Based on the feeling of my feet on the rocks, I knew I was probably descending along a jumble of rocks, but the visibility in front of me hadn't changed much.

Although Du Mo muttered to himself, he was much more cautious than before, not daring to be careless in his actions. "Hmph, if everyone could become invisible, the world would be in chaos. You might be killed by another invisible person the moment you reveal yourself."

Du Mo chuckled and continued, "Mr. Zhui Ma, how come there are the corpses of Sael Demon mercenaries hanging on these stone pillars, and they just died recently? Headhunters and Sael Demon mercenaries are already terrifying creatures. You're saying that this guy who enjoys hunting them, what kind of terrifying demon is he!"

Du Mo's questions were also swirling rapidly in my mind, trying to deduce the answers, but I could only come up with a partial one so far.

"No, such a dangerous thing couldn't have been done by one person. My initial deduction is that this might be a very dark organization. But what their purpose and motives are, we can't figure it out right now. Let's be smart and not provoke these deadly troubles. Let's find the Sea Demon as soon as possible, rescue Yi Liang and the others, and escape in time."

Du Mo sighed, complaining that the fog was too untimely, and I was also thinking about various possibilities. The two cautiously made their way forward, stumbling and dodging, not knowing how long they had walked, when unexpectedly, a large cluster of stone pillars appeared again in the mist ahead.

Du Mo and I quickly lay down on the ground and began to listen for any sounds around us, but apart from the rumbling sound of the waterfall, we couldn't hear anything unusual from the stone pillar forest ahead.

Du Mo glanced at his waterproof digital watch and immediately said to me in a panic, "Oh no, Mr. Zhui Ma, we're lost! We've wandered back into this forest of hanging corpses."

Hearing this startled me, and I anxiously looked at Du Mo, asking why he said that. "The compass on my watch was pointing downwards a moment ago, but now it's pointing upwards."

Although I didn't have any compass or similar instruments on me, my ability to discern objects and my good memory meant I didn't feel lost at all. So, I quickly said to Du Mo, "Turn your backside around and see how your compass changes."

Du Mo hurriedly did as I asked, clumsily turning his backside like a fat turtle stuck to the floor.
"Oh dear! Why is the 'S' needle still pointing straight up!" Du Mo was surprised first, subtly shifting the embarrassment he should have felt onto the waterproof watch. "

Hmph, you said you could withstand the pressure of a hundred meters of water, now you're dumbfounded!" "While teasing Dumo, I subconsciously glanced around. Rather than believing Dumo's watch was malfunctioning, I was more inclined to believe the nearby rocks contained excessive magnetism.

'Ding-ding... ding-ding-ding...' Dumo, frantically fiddling with his waterproof digital watch, opened his eyes wide with terror at the sudden, almost imperceptible sound.

I twitched my ears, filtering out the roar of the waterfall, and could clearly hear a sharp, metallic clanging sound coming from the stone pillars not far ahead.

'Mr. Zhui Ma, that demon has appeared! He's right there, hammering nails into people's heads!' Dumo whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

'You crawl over to the right and cover me. I'll sneak past these large rocks. If we get separated, remember, meet back at this rock in two hours.'" "I whispered in Dumo's ear, then patted the large, protruding rock beside me.

"Mr. Chase, should we take a detour? It's better to avoid that guy." Hearing Dumo's hesitation, I quickly explained, "No, we don't have much time. We can't afford to waste time on the same route twice. If we detour, with all that fog, you might just fall and smash to pieces. What would that be like? When you meet your God, he'll think you were scared to death by someone."

Dumo grinned, frowned, swallowed, and said, "That won't do. No matter how badly I, Dumo, am treated, I'm still a tough guy. We'll just go and kill him, damn it! We've come this far, who's afraid of who!"

To keep Dumo's spirits up, I gave him a thumbs up and said with a smile, "That's right. You have to cooperate with me. When we get out of here alive, I have even better things for you than that stack of euros you have. "

Du Mo's droopy eyelids suddenly sprang open, and he grinned excitedly, showing off his white teeth. He asked me impatiently, "What good stuff is it? Huh? Mr. Chasing Horse, could you give Du Mo a little sneak peek beforehand?" I

smiled at Du Mo, grabbed his shiny black ear, and whispered mysteriously, "Once we get out, I'll take you somewhere right away. You'll see everything then!"

Du Mo waited expectantly for a while, then his grin twitched a few times, and he complained.
I quickly added, "If we both survive, when you see the good stuff I mentioned, I guarantee you'll be so happy you'll be rolling on the ground doing somersaults."

Du Mo quickly raised a chubby hand, hissing as he wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. "Look at what you're saying! What good stuff? I, Du Mo, have seen a lot on the Sea Demon. How can I be so frivolous?" Hehe, but Mr. Chasing Horse never breaks his promise to Du Mo when it comes to material things, so I'm really looking forward to it. Let's go, let's kill that demon. "

Seeing Dumo's words, I felt much more at ease. This guy knew I'd tricked him a few times before, and now he'd cleverly put a 'safety net' on me.

I took off my backpack, donned the camouflage net, and crawled along the damp, cold rocks toward the source of the faint metallic clanging sound.

At that moment, my heart was pounding in my throat, fearing I'd encountered a rare Arhat.

Due to the thick fog, the mountain air was empty and dreamlike, and the metallic clanging was intermittent, interspersed with the rattling of chains.

When I silently crawled to the base of a large rock and slowly aimed my pistol ahead, I saw that Dumo on my right flank was also ready. We nodded to each other and began to approach in a small area.

The ethereal, floating fog at the edge of my vision gradually thinned, revealing a slender figure. I immediately shivered, inwardly exclaiming, 'God, I've run into a ghost!'" "

Through the hazy mist, I could see a figure wearing a brown pointed hat and a black-green priest's robe, slumped over a corpse, whimpering and muttering something unintelligible.

Seeing such a thing here sent chills down my spine. To the right of the whimpering figure lay a long-handled, sharp scythe, and before him was a wooden barrel stained with blood.

At that moment, I finally understood Du Mo's feelings; this scene was exactly like a living person falling into hell. My

heart pounded with fear, but I could roughly deduce that it was a strange priest, currently carrying out some dark and evil doctrine, hence the slumped over the corpse, like a weeping ghost, muttering incoherently. Back

in a mercenary camp in Southeast Asia, I had once..." On the body of the killed European agents were some pictures taken of these half-human, half-ghost creatures. On the back of the photos, a term was annotated in English: "Wailing Acolytes."

When superiors received those photos, they believed that some followers of dark cults in Europe were active in Southeast Asia, colluding with local sorcery. These people gathered together, either exchanging experiences or plotting to research something terrifying—all in an effort to open the gates of hell.

Because I grew up in the Yunnan-Guizhou region, I have some childhood memories of the three major sorceries of southern Yunnan. But I don't know if things are really as I suspected.

It's truly unbelievable that such things would be hiding in this vast Chagos Mountains. They... There must be some kind of hellish execution ground inside a cave. Whenever a living person is captured and taken there, the torture and curses begin.

But I truly can't understand it. With the pirate war raging so fiercely right now, these weeping monks, no matter how much they believe in the dark world, are still born of parents and exist only in flesh and blood.

If I pull the trigger now, a bullet from my FN57 pistol will instantly blow this weeping monk's head off. If I use a Barrett sniper rifle and shoot this hunched, thin fellow in the waist, I'll tear him in two instantly.

So, logically, these believers in the dark world should be hiding somewhere right now, why are they busier than ever seeing corpses scattered across the mountains?

And this… Inside were the corpses of recently deceased Selmo mercenaries. If I examined the stone pillars further, I might even find fresh bodies of other headhunters.

Where did these high-ranking mercenaries and assassins come from? Were they directly connected to this pirate war? I lay on the rock, feeling like my head was a balloon about to burst.

Chapter 409: The Ascetic Who Probes the Mind.

Dumo, lying prone on the right flank, gestured to me, indicating I could move; he was ready.

I gave Dumo a thumbs-up, signaling to begin the capture, and then continued to move slowly forward, closing in until I was two meters behind the acolyte in his robes, sobbing over the corpse. The weeping acolyte was currently engrossed in chanting scriptures and hadn't noticed me at all.

Gradually, my hands landed on a rock, a few clumps of wild grass blocking my view. In a flash, I pushed off with my legs, my body leaping into the air, lunging straight for the guy's back.

Even as I was airborne, a chill ran down my spine; I felt like I was attacking something filthy crawling out of hell, not a living person.

"Ugh, cough cough, cough cough..." The moment my heavy body struck him from behind, the weeping monk gasped in fright, like an old man choking on tobacco, weakly cowering and hiccuping. "Ugh, ugh, ugh..."

My rough, strong hand clamped tightly over his mouth, simultaneously binding his limbs. Dumo, who was lying on the other side, seeing that I had succeeded, quickly got up and ran over, pulling out a grappling hook from his waist and binding the evil believer.

As I covered the face of the wailing monk, I felt my fingers were slippery; it was as if his face had been coated with a layer of moisturizing oil.

Dumo pulled a rubber bead the size of a goose egg from his back pocket and shoved it viciously into the man's mouth. Then he pulled out a strip of cloth and, like a bridle for a cow or horse, strangled his mouth, silencing him completely.

Seeing that no one was around, I quickly said to Dumo, "Go, grab his bucket and this long scythe, let's retreat a hundred meters."

Dumo, like a big fat monkey, carried the scythe in one hand and the bucket in the other, hopping and skipping ahead of me. We were like thieves who had stolen something while no one was looking, quickly disappearing into the thick fog of the rocky pile.

Once we were safe, I tossed the trembling, weeping monk onto a rock, then drew a sharp dagger from my shoulder and pressed it diagonally against his brow and the bridge of his nose.

Only now, at such close range, could I properly see the monk's face. He was Caucasian, and from the skin on his wrists and neck, I could deduce he was no more than forty-five years old.

However, his long, pointed face looked like that of a sixty-year-old, covered in loose, long wrinkles. His complexion was as if coated with mercury; more accurately, it resembled the face of someone poisoned by mercury.

I knew in my heart that this man had been involved in the dark cult for quite some time, because his dark circles were extremely heavy, like the dark eyeshadow applied by a voluptuous woman. His lips looked like they had just been gnawed on rotting flesh, especially the purplish-black edges, which showed a few streaks of blood.

What baffled me was that this guy's pupils were a dark green, like the eyes of a goat shone with a flashlight at night—enough to make one stare into the eyes of a demon from hell, truly terrifying.

Dumo was initially a little scared, but now he was completely different, cursing at the weeping monk.

"Oh! Shit. Seeing a face like that is disgusting." I quickly gave him a look, signaling him not to speak. Dumo immediately pouted, waving his hand dismissively.

Then, I began speaking in broken Cambodian to this trembling guy, who seemed to be on a drug addiction. Dumo's eyes widened in astonishment; he didn't understand what I was saying or why I was doing it.

After spouting a bunch of Cambodian slang that even I couldn't understand, I gestured a few fingers at the weeping monk to make him think that I was also an ascetic following some kind of doctrine.

"You-are-the-europeans-do? Can-you-speak-English?" I deliberately spoke English with a strange accent, a bit of German and French slurs, then pulled the rubber ball out of his mouth, waiting for the guy to answer.

"Uh..., Sindonica, Sindonica, Gurenyamoizsi..." This ugly-faced, hideous fellow suddenly started muttering to me, I didn't know if he was speaking a language or a spell.

Dumo was terrified and quickly reached out a black hand to cover his mouth, but I grabbed Dumo's wrist in time to prevent him from interrupting this mourning monk.

"Mr. Zhuima, quickly shut this guy's mouth, he's casting an evil spell on us, let me kill this living ghost!" Dumo urged me anxiously, his face full of fear.

“No, I only believe in knives and bullets, not in verbal attacks when I'm at their mercy.”

Dumo grew up in a poor, underdeveloped African village and was incredibly superstitious about things like witchcraft. In his current state, let alone going back to Africa to become a mercenary, he'd probably die of fright in his grave even if he tried to steal a chieftain's burial goods.

He was too superstitious, forgetting the power of the union of humanity and the physical body. (Mobile access: wàp. ① ⑹k.cn)

After the wailing monk finished his rambling, he spoke to me in a weak and sinister tone: “Chinese? Japanese? Burmese?” This guy seemed to have just learned human language, awkwardly asking Dumo and me.

“I’m, burmese!” I replied. Dumo was almost stunned; he never expected that I would actually communicate with this living ghost he had captured.

In truth, I didn't want to face this weeping monk for even a second longer. I wished I could slit his throat, but doing so would render our capture of him worthless.

Although I was eager to rescue Yi Liang and the others, if I didn't understand what was happening around me, Du Mo and I might lose our lives if we continued walking for another hour or so, ending up stripped naked and hung on a stone pillar.

From his appearance, I could tell how heavy his faith was in the dark world and in his actions.

So, if he had already entrusted his soul to Satan, it was conceivable that no matter how cruelly I tried to force him to tell me everything he wanted to know, he would clench his teeth and remain silent. He might even see my torture as a form of asceticism, a test of his loyalty to the devil.

I told the weeping monk that we were from the Karen people of Burma, and we wanted to trace the origins of our sorcery back to the Ai Lao Yi era. However, we had recently acquired some ritual artifacts from tomb raiders, but we couldn't decipher the inscriptions on them, which greatly hindered our progress. So, the cult leader gave us funds, allowing us to travel thousands of miles to explore and seek knowledge across various continents.

Chapter 410: Expensive Sacrificial Live Bodies.

Having heard of this place, they risked their lives to come, only to find the mountain rife with ambushes and chaotic battles. We stripped off some clothes, trying to climb up and hide for a while. But thanks to the Demon Lord, we met you, High Priest, here! We are both terrified and excited.

After I finished telling these improvised ghost stories, Du Mo opened his mouth wide for a long time before quickly closing it and making a few noises. He stretched his neck, bulged his eyes, and indicated that he understood what I was going to do.

The dark believer before me was in very poor health, presumably spending years huddled in the shadows, not interacting with normal people, only with half-dead corpses, his body tainted with a thick layer of yin energy and germs.

Therefore, such a person's mind has degenerated considerably. If you were to confront this guy directly and interrogate him, you'd never get anything out of him, no matter what. But with a little trickery, this half-human, half-beast creature is quite easy to fool.

After hearing my purpose, the weeping monk's withered, wrinkled face immediately lit up with immense relief, like someone who had been misunderstood for years suddenly encountering a like-minded person.

Although our doctrines differed, we both served the darkness; even if we weren't exactly best friends, we could at least exchange a few words.

Moreover, the information I shared with him was intelligence I had intercepted during my mission to intercept special agents in Southeast Asia. I believed this living-dead believer before me should have heard of it.

I untied the ropes from the mourning monk, and the man, who had been trembling, stopped. Now, hearing that we needed his help, he adopted the demeanor of an old professor, appearing much more composed.

Du Mo and I were both on edge. We appeared relaxed, but our hands were constantly on guard. If this old ghost dared to shout, Du Mo, standing behind him, would immediately cover his mouth, and I would cut off his ear with my dagger—a direct, forceful interrogation, and he deserved to die.

In this situation, in this environment, we were completely detached from basic society, and since Du Mo and I weren't police officers, this naturally didn't constitute illegal interrogation, and we didn't need to consider the consequences. Of course, a lawless person becoming a policeman, or being led by a lawless person, would do the same.

Speaking of Du Mo, he was utterly ignorant of the law. The reason he'd survived standing beside me until now was because of the kindness inherent in his nature, not because he understood or was adept at manipulating the law.

The weeping monk's withered, thin fingers looked as if they'd been burned by embers, and his fingernails were filthy.

On his middle finger was a ring the size of a button. He twisted the small cap on the ring a few times, then brought it to his nose and sniffed it intensely. Suddenly, he perked up, pulled a baby skeleton from his robes, hung it on the handle of an upside-down scythe, and began muttering to himself for a while, clearly showing off to Du Mo and me.

After this old rascal finished his tantrum, I humbly inquired of the weeping monk. He said, “How can there be so many corpses hanging on this mountain, and those despicable mercenaries of the Sel Demons? When our church was in Burma, we secretly obtained many child sacrifices, but one time we were very unlucky. Among those poor children, one was actually the illegitimate child of a local high-ranking official and his mistress. Later, our church was hunted down by many mercenaries of the Sel Demons, and many learned high priests perished.” As soon as

I finished speaking, I appeared extremely sorrowful. The mourning monk sitting cross-legged also seemed to feel a bit regretful. But then, in a sinister, shrill tone, he said, "Hmph, what are the Selma mercenaries? Countless headhunters hang from the Soul-Locking Pillars atop this mountain. Hehehe, hehehe... You needn't grieve, the souls of sinners have been sealed away; they will be eternally bathed in purgatory, enduring endless punishment."

I seized the opportunity to ask, "Oh! Were the Selma mercenaries and headhunters also hired to slaughter your church's priests?" I finished, my face filled with worry and unease, as if afraid it was true.

"Hehehe, hehehe... This book is reprinted from 16k Literature Network 16k.cn," the guy chuckled again, his laughter like that of a hunched old man having an asthma attack.

"Chasing us? These mercenaries and assassins were punished here by our tomb lord for disobeying us. They're just a bunch of loose sand, and when loose sand disobeys, it dies."

I glanced at Dumo, and a sense of satisfaction rose within us both. This living ghost's mouth was starting to crack open.

"When we Galen people perform sacrifices, we almost always use living bodies, sealing their souls in earthenware jars made from the bellies of children, and then applying spells to punish them. If you still have any living bodies here, please let me demonstrate our soul-extraction ritual for you."

I spoke with conviction, making Dumo, standing behind the weeping monk, get goosebumps.

"Living bodies? We wouldn't dare waste our living bodies on you. With your kind of doctrine, you can only steal a few children at most. But the arrival of each fresh body on the mountaintop pillar requires a great deal of resources."

"Hmm..." This guy pondered for a moment, then continued speaking to us. “These people can’t just be shown to you casually. Each of them must undergo the physical and spiritual punishments of the Dark Cult. If a video recording of even one person is missing, the Tomb Lord will abandon me, understand? Absolutely not.”

The weeping acolyte spoke with some agitation, as if Dumo and I had wasted his life and caused him great harm.

Chapter 411: Concealing the Barrel and Scythe

Although this sinister priest revealed only vague information, after hearing him speak, I guessed several possibilities. Of course, these might need further confirmation, but the weeping acolyte’s mouth was already wide open.

I continued humbly, "This island is littered with corpses from battle. Are those living beings you hung on the stone pillars some wounded soldiers you picked up? If so, we'll go and pick one up too. Please be sure to witness our extraordinary abilities; you won't be disappointed."

I deliberately spoke these words with a mix of disdain and flattery. The weeping monk's face immediately showed a hint of displeasure, and his dark green pupils, hidden between his slits, flickered with a sinister light.

"Hmph, salvaged wounded soldiers? Our church isn't scavengers. Only low-level churches would stoop to such deceitful and fraudulent practices as hyenas. You two, to me, are like country bumpkins, never having seen the true dark world. Everyone hanging on the mountaintop pillar is on the 'Banai List,' not just anyone who can be subject to our dark punishment."

I was startled, especially when the Weeping Acolyte mentioned the "Banai List." In his mind, it was naturally imbued with supernatural beliefs, but to me, it was likely a kill list, like the orange file folders mercenaries and headhunters receive after being hired, containing all the basic information about their targets.

The Weeping Acolyte was a priest with no physical strength. In his half-human, half-corpse state, let alone hunting down Selma mercenaries and headhunters, he'd probably be slapped to the ground even if he provoked Dumo.

Clearly, this guy's so-called "Crypt Lord" had two possible identities. He is either a high priest with even greater faith and authority in the dark doctrines, or the leader of an extremely terrifying hunting organization. If it is the second, then this tomb lord's hunting level is truly frighteningly high.

The intelligence I intercepted in Southeast Asia was, after all, very limited, only revealing information about the headhunting community in the international headhunting market. Delving deeper was like entering a completely dark space.

It was like when I first encountered "Floating Infant - Fateful Water" in Mauritius, only to be misled into thinking it was the Nine-Lives Raven, suffering a great loss right from the start.

Back in Southeast Asia, there were many high-ranking mercenaries who carried out similar missions as me, but they would never share the intelligence they intercepted with me, just as I would never tell them the secrets I knew.

Furthermore, from the perspective of the continents, Southeast Asia is merely a small corner of the world; the true Great Tantric sects, who knows where on earth they might appear.

Therefore, the organization that the Weeping Acolytes belong to is completely unheard of to me. It might be a newly formed organization, or perhaps it has existed unknown for many years.

I asked the weeping acolyte, "Could we please pay our respects to your church's leader, so that he may help us interpret the scriptures we brought?"

Upon hearing this, the weeping acolyte seemed slightly tense, as if he had suddenly become stunned. "Give me your scriptures, and I'll interpret them for you. Our tomb lords are of high status; how could they easily grant us an audience? Let alone strangers, even we priests might not see such an honored person even once a year. Don't even dream about it."

Dumo crouched behind the weeping acolyte, crouching behind his sniper rifle, keeping watch over the surroundings. I mentally assessed the time and decided we shouldn't waste any more. We had already extracted enough information from this living dead; further entanglement would not yield any progress and would only increase the danger for Dumo and me.

“High Priest, we have traveled a long way, braving all sorts of dangers, to get here. You should understand our difficulties and acknowledge our faith. I would like to visit your meeting place so that I can learn and worship there when I return home.”

The mourning attendant’s face was even more grim. He seemed to have a premonition of something bad, and his greasy, silvery-white face was filled with endless sorrow. He fell silent, not uttering another word.

I knew perfectly well that this guy had sensed something from my increasingly aggressive questioning. His previous smug expression vanished without a trace, and his sorrow was probably because he had revealed the secrets of the God of Darkness, or perhaps he sensed that he was about to die at our hands and could no longer continue his dark doctrines.

Seeing the Weeping Spirit Monk suddenly change, I glanced at Dumo and winked, while simultaneously wiping my nose with the back of my hand and subtly clenching my fist with my thumb pointing down.

Dumo's eyes immediately lit up; he understood what I meant, and perhaps this was what he had been hoping for all along.
With a short, muffled thud, Dumo took a stance and swung the butt

of his rifle, smashing it hard into the Weeping Spirit Monk's temple. I was squatting in front of the Weeping Spirit Monk, who was sitting cross-legged. Seeing his head tilt slightly from Dumo's fatal blow, I swiftly grabbed his temple with my right hand, pulled him back, and slammed him against the rock beside him.

"Thump!" Another muffled sound rang out, and a pool of dark blood mixed with white brain matter slid down the damp, cold, bluish-black rock.

"Hehehehe... Mr. Chasing Horse, why do I find ambushing from behind so satisfying! Much more interesting than shooting an opponent head-on," Du Mo said wickedly.

Actually, I knew Du Mo was terrified. Hearing the Weeping Spirit Monk's words earlier, he had severely lost his sense of security, hence his extreme bloodlust.

"Alright, this guy already belongs to hell, so we've essentially sent him to the side of the Dark Lord. You dispose of the blood-stained barrel and scythe, and I'll hide his body under the big rock."

Saying this to Du Mo, I started dragging the Weeping Spirit Monk's corpse, while Du Mo carried the barrel and scythe, hiding them everywhere. After everything was settled, Du Mo and I found our respective bags and continued on our way, still disguised.

"Mr. Chasing Horse, you're truly a master, an excellent psychologist," Du Mo flattered me with a beaming smile after walking for a short while. "Hmph, not afraid now, huh?" I said coldly to Dumo.

Dumo was much better now than before. I had him deliver the fatal blow to the Weeping Spirit Attendant himself, intending to dispel his fear of ghosts and gods, to let him clearly understand that there was no hell of reincarnation on the mountaintop; this was still a battlefield, with stones, trees, and enemies.

However, although Dumo had shaken off his awe of ghosts and gods, his heart was still far from at peace. Because, the "Tomb Lord" the Weeping Spirit Attendant had mentioned—who exactly was he? Even the old ghost himself probably didn't know, so how could the two of us possibly know?

Chapter 412: The Terrifying Punishment of Two Realms

"Mr. Zhui Ma, as we traverse this misty stone pillar forest, if we encounter another terrifying old ghost ahead, don't worry about anything. Du Mo will go and kill him alone. We won't be able to extract anything from him anyway."

Du Mo found dealing with creatures like the Crying Spirit Attendant Monk, whose physical and intellectual abilities were lacking, quite enjoyable. For anyone, killing something that wouldn't harm their own life was naturally pleasurable, although this pleasure could sometimes be a form of numbness.

"Hmph! Look at you now. If that 'Tomb Lord' appeared ahead, I wish you could be this confident. Killing too many Crying Spirit Attendants will only weaken your combat abilities. The most crucial point is that you must learn to deduce the most reliable intelligence from the least amount of information."

Du Mo's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Has Mr. Zhui Ma heard of this evil church? Do they kill pirate soldiers?" The once arrogant Du Mo now immediately revealed his inner fear.

"What do you think! Asking such stupid questions you already know the answers to." I replied coldly.

"Heh heh, anyone who falls into their hands is stripped naked and hung on a stone pillar after death. Even if they make a mistake, who cares? Hanging one more or one less won't make a difference. If they really think it's inappropriate, they can just take it down and kick it into the abyss."

I glanced at Du Mo and teased, "Not bad! Du Mo, your IQ has suddenly jumped from negative to zero."

Du Mo was about to raise his hand to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment when he immediately realized I wasn't praising him, but he just grinned foolishly.

Talking with Du Mo, we unknowingly walked through the fog for over two hours. On the mountaintop ahead, the vegetation gradually became lush.

Along the way, I pondered many things, especially the "tomb lord" mentioned by the mourning monk. First, let's rule out that it wasn't a dark golem, but a living person, an organization leader.

Throughout the different histories of various continents, all evil magic and sorcery disguised as sectarianism essentially serve the interests of a certain class, group, or a small number of powerful individuals.

Therefore, the organization to which the Weeping Acolytes belonged was no exception; otherwise, where would they get their foster care? The Weeping Acolytes we had just killed wore a dark ring on his hand. I let him sniff it every now and then to stay awake; I think it mostly contained marijuana or some hallucinogenic drug.

That so-called tomb lord must have used mind control and narcotics to make these priests completely dependent on him, both physically and mentally, and submit to him.

As we emerged from the forest of stone pillars behind us, Dumo and I noticed many things. The corpses hanging there had died at different times. Among them were indeed many headhunters whose human skin totems had been removed, and mercenaries of the Sael Demons whose eyeballs had been gouged out.

However, there were also some very peculiar corpses hanging there, whose identities Dumo and I couldn't determine. Broadly speaking, this organization that uses the "Banai List" to determine its targets, including priests, is a hunting organization primarily focused on mercenaries and headhunters.

However, I would have found it hard to believe such a high-level hunting organization had I not witnessed everything that happened today.

Currently, this organization's specialization in hunting high-ranking mercenaries and headhunters must be driven by some kind of profit. Because profit determines the rules, and rules determine everything.

An organization using the "Banai List" to determine its targets is essentially similar to the assassin profession; both involve eliminating targets according to the list and collecting bounties.

The only difference is that these individuals listed on the pillars by the Banai organization hold high-ranking positions in the mercenary market, whether for missions or assassinations.

Therefore, the reason these corpses hanging on the pillars appear on the Banai List is likely due to two reasons: first, to compete for market share; second, perhaps political panic.

The so-called market competition has made headhunters and mercenaries highly sought after in various international hiring channels. This is because of their high success rate and reasonable prices.

I believe this has created a barrier, cutting off the market for a certain hunting organization positioned above mercenaries and headhunters.

These higher-level hunters, while possessing terrifyingly powerful abilities, are often overlooked by employers in various countries. If hiring mercenaries or headhunters is sufficient for reliable tasks, why waste money hiring higher-level hunters?

Therefore, a certain higher-level assassin group, which also earns substantial sums through hiring, began hunting down its own competitors, and then the next level of mercenaries and headhunters who were blocking its market.

However, the mercenaries and headhunters they hunted were no ordinary individuals. Eliminating their own kind through this process was inherently dangerous and would require a significant financial investment.

Therefore, they hoped to achieve their goal without a fight, through a "Glorious Revolution"—a cost-effective approach.

The Selma mercenaries weren't easily intimidated, and the headhunters were terrifying figures. Consider men like the Love Prisoner and the Nine-Lives Raven—men with iron-blooded demonic bones, their strength compounded by eccentric personalities.

If someone were to tell these unruly individuals, "You better watch out, don't compete with me for business, stop taking hunting orders, find other ways to make money. Otherwise, I'll kill you," it's easy to imagine the absurdity of the person saying it.

When interests clash, conflict erupts. But this conflict doesn't escalate into a large-scale battle like among pirates. Instead, a higher-ranking organization, finding words ineffective, secretly begins its operations.

Silently, one by one, they kill them. Since the Selma mercenaries and headhunters aren't afraid of bullets and knives, they simply don't kill them outright. Instead, they capture them alive, subject them to a terrifying dark cult, and then have their souls sealed by the weeping monks.

It's easy to imagine that this kind of attack, persecuting from the physical body to the spiritual realm, is truly heinous. Moreover, the mourning monk mentioned earlier revealed that the process of each live torture is recorded on video.

This kind of propaganda, whether released online to make a fortune or used to create panic among competitors, is undoubtedly a highly effective method.

Chapter 413: Falling into the Dark Cage .
The second reason for the killing of the Sael Demon mercenaries and headhunters is political panic. Ever since the Child Lover hunted down a political figure in Europe, he has incurred a tremendous disaster.

Regardless of the continent, countries and organizations, powerful politicians are highly skilled at eliminating dissidents. They not only need to eliminate threats but also consider long-term stability, thus ensuring their continued position at the top of the survival chain.

The eight legendary assassins can be considered the spiritual leaders of the headhunter clan. If these eight are eliminated, it will be much easier to exterminate the remaining headhunters.

Because the stronger the fortress, the more vulnerable it is to be breached from within. Thus, through the feud between the Avici Monk and the Child Lover, I now vaguely understand why these eight legendary assassins harbor such irreconcilable hatred.

Thinking of this, a chill runs down my spine. If the feud between these eight legends was a trap set by someone, then these eight guys are no different from bloodthirsty beasts thrown into a cage to fight.

And those pairs of eyes hiding behind politics are watching this scene with sinister smiles, waiting for the trapped beasts to kill most of them, leaving only one severely wounded and barely clinging to life, before someone will surely come with a butcher's knife and easily finish him off.

A few days ago, on the deck of the Sea Demon, Nine Lives Raven seemed relaxed while fishing, but he harbored a deep worry. At the time, he only revealed a little information to me, mentioning that Fateful Water was originally hired by Jason Jody, paid a large sum to assassinate the Pirate King, but unexpectedly, Fateful Water turned against him.

This matter greatly puzzled Nine-Lives Raven, who was also one of the Eight Legendary Assassins. After probing me about it, he could only sigh and conclude that Destiny Water had seen something bizarre, which was why he violated the Headhunter Clan's principles and instead assisted the Pirate King in regaining control of the Sea Demon.

If I hadn't been scrambling through the darkness with Du Mo, climbing to the top of this mountain and seeing the terrifying, eerie stone pillars and the dark priest, I would never have been able to guess what Destiny Water had seen.

But now, I felt a slight sense of dread. Although I'm not a member of the Headhunter Clan, the thought of these possibilities still made my heart pound.

If Destiny Water saw something bizarre when he assassinated the Pirate King, the only possibility is that he learned about it from the Pirate King, that someone was setting a trap among the Eight Legendary Assassins, and that the secret extermination of the Headhunter Clan was underway.

Now it seems everything has fallen into place so unexpectedly. I, an outsider dragged into this mess, have already weathered countless storms, but I never imagined I would be plunged into a true dark cage at this moment.

In this current pirate war, the various headhunting clans are locked in a fierce battle. If they knew the truth, if they knew they were facing a highly dangerous and evil enemy, they would surely unite against it.

However, such a powerful and dark enemy—the Banai Organization—would never give them such a chance. This dark organization, operating underground, has long understood and considered all the causes and effects.

So, even if Mingzhongshui knew the truth, what could he do? Who would believe his words, or not see him as having ulterior motives?

There have been bloody examples before. When Mingzhongshui sneaked back to the Sea Demon to help the Pirate King assassinate Jason Jody, wasn't it the Raven that sliced off half his face?

With his intelligence, Mingzhong Shui should have known that he alone was no match for the powerful and dark Banai organization. He also knew that the Headhunter Clan was no longer a reliable ally, having been riddled with holes by their enemies.

When it was all too late, he had no choice but to align himself with the Pirate King, relying on his eleven Guardian Demons to avoid being isolated and helpless in the impending dark catastrophe.

Thinking of this, I looked back at Du Mo, then at the fog covering the mountains, a heavy feeling settling in my heart. Seeing my grave expression, Du Mo asked, puzzled,

"Mr. Zhuima, are you worried about Miss Yi Liang and the others again? Sigh, this fog is really bad timing."
I said to Du Mo, "If it weren't for this thick fog, we probably wouldn't even have made it through the Stone Pillar Forest. Now, taking advantage of this mountain fog, let's quickly find the Sea Demon and get Yi Liang and the others out of here. I feel that an even greater catastrophe is brewing here." "Dumo didn't speak, but he knew perfectly well what I meant.

The Great Waterfall Island we were currently on was not only high in altitude but also vast in area. The guys on the surrounding smaller islands should have already wiped out their opponents and were starting to climb onto the same island as us.

But whether these surviving warriors would be captured alive and hung on stone pillars after they reached the island was hard to say.

Rumble, rumble. After walking for more than two hours, Dumo and I could clearly hear a large waterfall hidden in the mist, rushing down rapidly in the direction of ten o'clock ahead.

The countless sprays of water blended even more milky white with the mist. I looked up, following this milky white path, and it immediately gave the impression that the water was descending from the heavens.

"Dumo, it seems you were right. This kind of waterfall truly deserves to be called a waterfall reaching the heavens. There must be a mountain hollow or a celestial pool with abundant water on the mountaintop ahead." "

Dumo chuckled, saying mysteriously, 'Let's keep going. Although this downward slope will make our knees ache, it saves us the danger of climbing down steep cliffs. Mr. Chase, now that we're so close to the waterfall, my mind is starting to work.'

Hearing Dumo's words, my heart lit up, and I hoped I was lucky enough to have reached the vicinity of the large cave Dumo mentioned.

'I remember fishing for catfish in the deep pool under the waterfall with that Indian boy, and we even swam around in the clear water a few times—it was so refreshing. That large cave is located on the back mountain of Tongtian Waterfall.'

At this point, Dumo smiled awkwardly, then said with difficulty, 'However, there are many large waterfalls on this island, and I can't be sure right now that this waterfall in front of us is the highest and widest one, Tongtian Waterfall.'"

Du Mo's last few words, though somewhat disappointing, also gave me a glimmer of hope. I said to Du Mo, "Alright, since we're already quite far from that stone pillar forest, let's go further up the mountain and see if there's a large cave behind it. If not, then we'll follow the sound of the waterfall to find the next one."

Chapter 414: Encounter at the Waterfall
So, we mingled in the heavy fog and mist, and began to walk diagonally towards the top of the great waterfall again.

Ever since we left that stone pillar forest, I'd been wondering about something. Jason had planted Nine Lives Raven on this towering, vast waterfall island at the end of the month. I wondered if he was alive or dead, if he had seen that stone pillar forest, and if he was aware that a dark organization was infiltrating this pirate war, taking the opportunity to hunt down the headhunters of the Eight Great Rivers.

Now it seems that the only one who can truly understand the mind of the person destined for the water is probably Xuan Ya. As for the woman with the withered soul conch, I wonder how well her shoulder injury is healing. Fortunately, she has been recuperating in the stone cave at the foot of Gu Island Mountain these past few days. If this Burmese woman hadn't been injured and had continued to roam among the branches and leaves killing pirates like she did at the beginning of the war, she might have been hanging from a stone pillar by now.

The twin brother of the Love Prisoner, Baba Tu, as well as Bo Yue and the Abi Waste Monk, are all dead. It seems the Banai Organization will be unable to record the video of their torture and torment. But this death does not contradict the Banai Organization's ultimate interests.

At this point, my desire to assassinate the Love Prisoner has diminished considerably, because the headhunting generals among the eight legends cannot be weakened too much. They need to act as a protective shield between me, an unrelated person, and the Banai Organization for a certain period of time.

Once I find Yi Liang and the others, and leave this blood-soaked Chagos Islands, their hunt and desperate struggle can go on as they please; it's none of my business.

But of the eight legendary hunters still alive, the one I least want to see in danger is Mingzhongshui. Because if he dies under mysterious circumstances, I'll lose all contact with Luya.

Back in his apartment in Buale, Mingzhongshui said that Luya and Duoguwa had been escorted to Mauritius by Xiaoshanhu, but that was a lie.

He said that to subtly warn me that when I encounter the real Nine-Lives Raven, I must remember that the Raven has a second-in-command named Xiaoshanhu, a very powerful boy who should not be underestimated. After all, Mingzhongshui suffered greatly at the hands of the Nine-Lives Raven.

My decision not to kill Diaohunmenluo when he was in danger was also for a reason. The existence of Nine-Lives Raven and the Withering Soul Conch can counterbalance and restrain Destiny Water. If Destiny Water ever falls out with me because of Luya, I will join forces with Nine-Lives Raven and the Withering Soul Conch to make him pay for his crimes in blood.

Similarly, the existence of Destiny Water and Heaven-Shaking Slave also counterbalances and restrains Jason Jody and Nine-Lives Raven. Jason Jody wants me to work for his money, power, and status, while Nine-Lives Raven covets the treasure chest I obtained from the Canggui Ship. If they cause me trouble, I can also side with Destiny Water and kill them.

But now, the appearance of the Banai Organization has completely shattered the balance I had carefully maintained to escape this chaotic battle.

Apart from Dumo, who is still alive and well, perhaps only God knows which of those headhunting masters are still alive in this vast Chagos Islands, in this misty mountain landscape.

Dumo and I clung to the edge of the waterfall, inching our way upwards. The roar of the water was deafening, and tiny droplets splashed onto our faces.

Although the slope beneath our feet grew increasingly steep, fortunately, the rock walls on either side of the waterfall were covered with winding shrubs, providing easy grips for climbers.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, why haven't we heard any gunfire on this waterfall island? And along the way, apart from seeing some old and new corpses in the stone pillar forest, we haven't seen a single fallen pirate soldier!"

Dumo, clinging to my side, had been pondering many things along the way, and these questions he raised now had also puzzled me for quite some time.

Although the mountain fog obscured the sniper rifle's field of vision, it should at least have allowed us to detect some signs of fighting. But, as Dumo said, we hadn't seen even a single pirate soldier's body.

To comfort Dumo, I said, "This island is different from the others. With such a large area, even if we kill the pirates, we won't encounter them so easily."

But unexpectedly, no sooner had I finished speaking than a pirate soldier, killed and fallen, was hanging from a crooked old tree above us.

"Hehe, Mr. Chase, we finally see a corpse that isn't naked! Seeing these now actually feels familiar," Dumo said excitedly, quickly climbing towards the pirate's body, draped in camouflage netting and wedged in the branch.

"Hehe! Yeah, I feel like I'm back in the human world too." After joking with Dumo, I did feel a bit more relaxed. The reason Dumo was searching so quickly for the corpse was probably because he saw a bulging package hanging from the guy's body.

This fallen pirate soldier was a subordinate of the Pirate King, and perhaps Dumo thought the items looted from the enemy pirates were more novel and interesting. But right now, he was probably looking for another bottle of his addictive foreign liquor.

Chapter 415: The Canyon That Scared Away the Large Ship.
Cutting open the package on the pirate soldier's corpse, Dumo didn't find the liquor he wanted most, only some biscuits and dried fish slices.

Although Dumo wasn't particularly fond of sweets, the delicious fresh fish slices were enough to make him happy for a while. We ate what we found, rested briefly against the high rock wall, and then climbed back up the waterfall at a much faster pace.

Around noon, the mountain fog began to thin, and Dumo and I reached the highest point of the waterfall. The sight before us immediately stunned us.

Besides countless ancient and majestic boulders scattered around like small village houses, the surging water, like a flood bursting its banks, splashed between the boulders with immense force, cascading hundreds of meters down the mountaintop.

I looked around, trying to find a way for us to hop across these stones like checkers pieces. At the same time, I scouted the surroundings, wary of any potential snipers lurking nearby.

“Dumo, let’s jump across these large rocks scattered in the stream and see if the cave we’re looking for is on the back mountain,” I said to Dumo, turning my gaze away.

Upon hearing this, Dumo immediately said nervously, “Mr. Zhui Ma, we have to be careful. With such a swift current, if someone accidentally falls in, they’ll be swept away immediately. If their head hits a large rock, it’s certain death.”

I walked in front, and Dumo followed behind. As we moved, I used a mountain rope to tie ourselves around the waist to prevent either of us from slipping and falling into the water, being swept away by the waterfall, and plunging hundreds of meters down the cliff.

Although we risked our lives and spent half a day anxiously making our way across, Dumo, even with the thinning mist, still couldn’t see the cave he remembered.

This inevitably disappointed us both. As the afternoon sun was about to completely dissipate the mountain mist, I was filled with anxiety. Once the fog dissipates, those guys with sniper rifles on the nearby hilltops will once again open the scopes and search the entire area for any moving people.

At that point, if Dumo and I were to move again, it wouldn't just be because of the treacherous terrain.
Time was of the essence, so the two of us continued, relying on the white mist and fog, carrying our rifles, towards another adjacent hilltop, where there was also a large, milky-white waterfall, with the faint sound of rushing water emanating from it.

When Dumo and I reached the top of the second waterfall, Dumo suddenly became excited. He pointed excitedly to the back mountain and said to me, "Mr. Zhuima, look! Do you see that canyon connecting to the sea? When the Sea Demon secretly came to inspect it, it sailed along this waterway into the large cave we're standing on right now."

Seeing Dumo so excited, I thought he must be very confident that he had indeed found the large cave where the Sea Demon was repairing the ship. At that moment, my gloomy mood dissipated, and I felt much brighter and more relaxed.

The reason we were able to find the large cave so quickly was not only due to luck, but also because when Dumo and I entered the waterfall island, it was dark and we couldn't see the easiest route to climb. As a result, we climbed up the more difficult mountain wall. Unexpectedly, it only took us a few hours to find this place.

If there were no danger here, and Dumo and I leisurely rowed our small boat up from the easiest opening on the island, finding the cave's location in a short time would be a real hassle.

The canyon Dumo pointed to was covered with lush, ancient trees, and the entrance waterway near the coast—if someone hadn't measured it beforehand and known it was an excellent deep-water harbor, a large ship like the Sea Demon would never have dared to risk running aground so easily.

That's why the Sea Demon used it as a natural warehouse for repairing large ships.

The sunlight was now penetrating the mountain mist, and Dumo and I opened our sniper scopes, hiding in a concealed spot, and began carefully surveying our surroundings.

I now think that Jason Jody placed the raven here likely to protect the hidden Sea Demon. If that's the case, then there's a high probability that this guy is lurking nearby.

Given his cunning, if he saw Dumo and me together, he would probably think that the child lover was already dead at my hands.

Moreover, my relentless efforts to save Dumo indicate that I must be plotting something, and Xuanya will undoubtedly consider this, knowing that my primary goal is to rescue Yiliang and the others and escape.

I promised to give him half of the treasure chest, and he hasn't even shown his face yet; how could he possibly let me go so easily? But I can't kill Xuanya now; if he dies, retrieving Luya from the Water of Fate will become a problem.

After scouting for a while, Dumo said to me mysteriously, "Mr. Chasing Horse, do you think that Child Lover might be around here? If he sees I'm not dead, will he immediately shoot me?"

I blinked twice, shook off the dew clinging to my eyelashes, and gave Dumo a cold look, saying, "Why don't you use your weapon to lock onto his head before he shoots you, and repay him for that stab with a bullet?"

A big bulge appeared between Dumo's brows. He licked his lips and said, "Then let's slowly walk down the mountain. When we're almost at the cave entrance, you can tie me down with a rope so I can scout the inside first. If Dumo gets killed, Mr. Chasing Horse, remember to avenge me."

This shiny black kodo beast's mind was racing again. The fact that he said these things to me meant that he was starting to fear the Child Lover again. Dumo even thought that the Child Lover was currently inside the cave, returning to the Sea Demon to get supplies.

"Alright, if you've given up on living, then the only thing I can do is kill whoever killed you. Don't expect me to have the power to resurrect you or find you from God to take you to a luxury hotel and live the life of a big city. Who your Dorguwa sleeps with after that is no longer bound by your last words."

I answered Dumo calmly. His big eyes darted around a few times, then he grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, and chuckled foolishly. "Almost forgot, I still have a stack of euros I haven't spent. Oh dear! Dorguwa doesn't know about this secret stash of money of mine. If I die hanging on this mountain, that money will be wasted. This is simply... simply a betrayal of your kindness." "

Dumo said obsequiously, but he did seem to be putting on some spirit. Although he was considered outstanding among the pirate elites, he was mentally blank when facing exceptional dangers and difficulties, having not received any special training. Therefore, Dumo had no idea how to manage his fear at this moment.

Chapter 416: Hanging Upside Down in the Giant Beast's Mouth

"Let's go down. Maybe the cave is full of jewels. All the valuable stuff from the Sea Demon is piled up inside. If we see something we like, we should take it. You created so much value for Jason Jody, shouldn't we recycle some of it?"

Hearing me say this, Dumo's dark, shiny face immediately lit up with a smile, and he said to me with great enthusiasm, "Hehehe, look at what you're saying, Dumo isn't a money-grubber. If you ask me what I like, I really dream of owning the Sea Demon."

I glanced at Dumo and said coldly, "Hmph, not a money-grubber after all!" "

The two of us clung to the plants clinging to the rock face, stealthily climbing to the top of the large cavern. I glanced down; the cavern was at least a hundred meters high and seventy or eighty meters wide.

There weren't many lush plants on either side of the cavern. If Dumo and I climbed any further, we'd be exposed to the sniper scopes that might be guarding the entrance.

Besides, even if we went down, we didn't have a small boat or an inflatable raft, and even if we did, we wouldn't dare use it now. We could only swim into the water and slowly approach the Sea Demon. But now, especially for Dumo, his knife wound was at risk of infection if it got wet.

'Dumo, don't go down. Stay here and keep watch. I'll go in alone first and see if Jason Jody really hid the big ship in the cave. Also, if I can't get out, you try to escape on your own. Take the money I gave you and go wherever you want. I feel deeply sorry for what happened to Doguwa.'" "

As I took off my backpack, I spoke to Dumo, simultaneously grabbing the M25 sniper rifle from his hand and shoving the two Barrett sniper rifles I was carrying onto my back into him.

I did this because I needed to lighten my load while climbing into the cave, and once inside, I wouldn't need weapons with a range exceeding a kilometer.

"Besides, these two weapons are quite valuable. You can sell them, buy a water buffalo, and a few acres of farmland to grow your tropical crops. Sigh, I was thinking that after this was over, I'd take you to China or Australia, find a coastal city, and live out the rest of our lives there. Whether that dream comes true depends on our fate."

I deliberately spoke to Dumo emotionally, painting a picture of a bright future, hoping to cheer up this chubby boy who had been frightened by the child sex addiction, lest he end up with his head blown off when I came out of the cave.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, look at what you're saying! God will surely bless you, ensuring you go in and come out safely." "If you really run into trouble, I'll go back in and rescue Miss Yi Liang and the others. I'll even die for it." Du Mo said, his eyes reddening slightly.

Actually, I knew that if something happened to me, given Du Mo's current state, he wouldn't be able to escape the Chagos Islands. (Mobile access: ωар．ㄧб) The location chosen for

the pirate battle was here, a scene of utter destructive ferocity, a fight to the death. Anyone involved in the carnage, unable to endure the brutality and hardship, would find it incredibly difficult to flee the islands for their lives, even in ordinary forests and mountains.

The Chagos Islands, located in the central Indian Ocean, are surrounded by sea, teeming with water and fish. Anyone attempting to escape the Chagos Islands, wounded and exhausted, would face only two outcomes: drowning or being devoured by sharks.

I removed the grappling hook from Dumo, secured two sturdy hooks to my feet, and then, carrying my M25 sniper rifle, climbed into the cave.

At that moment, I felt the world turn upside down; I felt like a bat, suspended inverted from the cave ceiling, carefully clinging to the uneven rocks as I moved deeper into the cave.

Every two or three meters I struggled to climb, I had to crane my neck to see the path ahead. The cave was incredibly cool, the air thick with the acidic smell of water and stone erosion from years of decay.

The mountainside had cracks, barely visible to the naked eye, causing large swathes of water from the mountaintop waterfall to seep and drip down, making a gurgling sound.

At that moment, I felt as if I were inside the mouth of a giant stone beast, hanging from its jaws, watching the massive, fang-like stone pillars dripping with drool. And from the cave ceiling, a chilling wind, untouched by sunlight for millennia, whistled across my neck like blades.

Moving forward, the pull of gravity caused my wrists and ankles to ache painfully. The veins on my forehead and neck throbbed with tension, yet I still had to crane my neck and roll my eyes as high as possible to locate the Sea Demon.

The deeper I climbed into the cave, the more slippery and difficult to grip the icy, sharp stone pillars became

. Fortunately, I had four hooks with me, which, while making my movement pitifully slow, significantly improved my safety. At this crucial moment, if I were unlucky enough to fall, the fall of over a hundred meters would surely rupture my stomach and twist my internal organs, not to mention the loud splash that would attract a barrage of rifle fire.

Chapter 417: The Dutch Rat and the Fishmonger
This natural cave was filled with darkness, its end completely unknown. Yet I still had to grope my way in, gradually adjusting my eyes to the diminishing light.

Hanging upside down from the cave ceiling, after struggling to crawl for about a hundred meters, I was suddenly startled to see a large, dark outline appear on the surface of the water below. I was both surprised and delighted, assuming it wasn't a large reef protruding from the water.

After moving forward another twenty meters or so, I could finally see clearly what was below. Dumo, that dark-skinned kid, was right; the Sea Demon was indeed hidden here. I was very familiar with the ship's shape.

I began lowering the rope, controlling my descent speed like a spider suspended on its silk, landing straight towards the mast-like pillar in the middle of the ship's deck.

Jason Jody would never have imagined I'd found this place. At this moment, the Sea Demon, for excellent concealment, was completely dark on the outside, without a single ray of light.

When my feet touched the top of the mast, my body felt incredibly comfortable. My wrists and ankles, bruised and purple from the rope, could finally receive blood flow smoothly, and the pain that had been building up to the point of bursting began to ease.

The visibility around me was like the uneven dimness before a summer twilight storm. I opened my eyes wide, head bowed, and peered down to see if any pirate soldiers were moving on the deck.

But at this moment, the Sea Demon was like a giant beast hibernating in a cave, silent and devoid of any sign of life. Seeing that no one was around, I slowly slid down the mast, clinging to the rope.

After securing the rope, I crouched low and approached the Sea Demon's hatch, carefully watching my step, wary of any thin-line traps set in the dim light.

The hatch was locked from the inside; I tried pushing several times but couldn't open it even a crack, causing beads of sweat to form on my forehead. I silently reminded myself that the closer I got to victory, the calmer and more composed I needed to be. Impatience and haste often lead to failure, a tragedy often reserved for those with such a mindset.

Unable to force the hatch open, I pressed my ear against the heavy metal door, trying to listen for any sounds inside. But apart from the countless gurgling and dripping sounds all around, I couldn't hear anything.

Because I had always paid close attention to the structure of the Sea Demon and had been planning my escape route, I knew that unless someone opened the hatch from the inside, I wouldn't be able to sneak in.

So, I climbed onto the roof outside the hatch and lay down, waiting for someone to come out of the Sea Demon so I could slip in.

Dragging my wet and tired body, I felt incredibly sleepy after lying down. I blinked frequently, making sure I didn't fall asleep, otherwise not only would I lose the opportunity, but my life would also be in danger.

Looking at the vast, empty cave ceiling, surrounded by the reverberating sounds of water in the stone world, I felt an indescribable sense of oppression. I don't know how much time had passed, but amidst the countless gurgling and dripping sounds, a sudden metallic creaking sound broke the silence, and I felt the vibration in my back.

"Damn it, keep the noise down when you open the door! Aren't you afraid of giving away our position?" a loud, weak voice cursed at another pirate.

"Bullshit! We're hiding in such a secluded cave, on the outskirts of the island, who would even bother to find our way here? If you're too cowardly, go home and sell your guinea pigs. This is a pirate ship, don't come here being paranoid."

These two guys actually started arguing, and they were only three meters directly below my head. My head was resting on the metal platform above the hatch, my ears twitching constantly as I listened to these two lewd and shameless fellows.

"Damn it, so what if I sold guinea pigs? I was a boss, unlike you, a fishmonger who, when you couldn't find a woman, actually mated with a manatee."

The arrogant pirate didn't back down, and from his words, it was clear that he cared a lot about his past, so he wanted to use even more vicious personal attacks to quell the resentment caused by his inferiority complex.

"Heh heh, you bastard! Who the hell is spouting nonsense at you again? Back when I was fishing at sea, the whales I caught weren't even as big as the boss in my crotch."

These two pirate strongmen, who were usually like dogs bickering, got along well and passed their boring pirate days by verbally taunting and attacking each other.

"Stop talking nonsense, or I'll castrate you and feed you to the goldfish. Quickly pour out this water, or Mr. Hanging Crow will be angry." One of the pirate strongmen said this, and the other guy immediately stopped drooling and bent down to help.

Hearing the name Hanging Crow, I was immediately startled. Obviously, Hanging Crow should be on the ship right now. So, I quickly peeked out from the edge of the cabin roof to see what the two guys were doing.

Because of the dim light, I could only see two pirate soldiers struggling to lift a white plastic bath tub and walk towards the ship's side, seemingly preparing to empty the water.

"Hey! I say, why doesn't Mr. Raven swim around under the ship a couple of times? That's much more comfortable than bathing in this tub." The loud but weak-voiced pirate looked around and then lowered his voice to the other pirate.

"How could you, a guinea pig seller, understand these things? The water veins of this cave connect to the sea, and under our ship lies 'Death's Fang'!"

The pirate, mockingly called a fishmonger, had a full beard and deliberately leaned close to the short, thin pirate's ear, speaking mysteriously.

"Tch! What 'demon fangs' and 'divine fangs'? Don't be so superstitious, I don't believe in this stuff. You fishmongers like you just love to show off. Every time you talk about a type of sea fish, you never give it a common name, you always use some kind of baffling nickname. When I was studying in Europe, I hated those foreign guys the most. You're just like them, always spouting nonsense."

The short, thin pirate, seeing the bearded man being mysterious as usual, indignantly cursed him.

"Hehe, the so-called 'demon fangs' of death are actually piranhas." The bearded pirate, seeing the short, thin pirate getting a little impatient, quickly offered an explanation.

"Piranhas? Aren't those freshwater creatures? How did they get here?" The short, thin pirate, even more impatient upon hearing this, retorted.

"You rat dealer, use your brain! Look up at what's above us. That's just fresh water, diluted seawater. What's so strange about piranhas gathering under the ship? When Mr. Hanging Raven came back, he looked like he'd been soaked in a pool of blood. If he'd gone to wash under the ship, these water tigers would have eaten him to a skeleton in the blink of an eye."

Chapter 418: The Pirate Cook's Bathtub

I lay motionless on the hatch, listening to the bearded pirate talk, and roughly understood the situation inside the ship.

The fighting on the island had reached its final stage these past two days, and the surviving pirates and assassins were much more likely to encounter each other. But Hanging Raven had entered the Sea Demon and returned covered in blood, which meant he had killed quite a few people.

But there was another possibility: he was wounded and came back to wash himself and get medical treatment and recuperation.
"Damn it, it's just a few piranhas. I'll go get my fishing rod, catch a few, and boil them alive for my drinks. Don't splash water on them yet, wait..." The short, skinny pirate said as he hurriedly ran towards the cabin.

Seeing his companion's reaction, the bearded pirate cursed viciously, "You fucking come back here! Is this a time for playing around? When the old captain gets back, I'll have him whip you to death!"

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. These two guys, though also skilled pirates, were somewhat similar to Du Mo—they were also pirate cooks, responsible for most of the pirates' meals, but they worked on the Sea Demon's mother ship.

Less than five minutes later, the short, skinny guy indeed returned with a fishing rod, excitedly running to the ship's side and saying to the bearded pirate, "What did you just say?" "Go tell the old captain about me! Let me tell you, you cheat at gambling all the time. If the captain finds out, he'll chop off your fingers. Let's see if the whip is more powerful, or a chopped finger!"

the short, skinny pirate angrily warned the bearded man with a forced smile.

"Hehehe, you're the most unreliable one. I've used all the money I won from cheating to buy you drinks and women, and now you're saying this? You're a real bastard!" the bearded pirate said, cursing and flattering at the same time. The short,

skinny pirate didn't pay any attention to what he was saying, just focused on his fishing rod, casting the line under the ship's side. But he still muttered, "So what if I'm a bastard? That's ill-gotten gains, the old captain hates that stuff the most, and I hate it when people tattle on me."

"Sigh, I was just teasing you, I wasn't serious," the bearded pirate said apologetically.

"Teasing?" "That Kodo from that African village, you really put him in a tough spot. I found out that even though he's poor, his character is better than yours. You're the real bastard, you swindled him out of what little money he already had, and then pushed him onto the small submarine. Luckily, First Mate Kugno doesn't think much of you, otherwise, that Dumo guy wouldn't have a good life."

"Hehehe, damn it, even if I'm a bad guy, aren't we on good terms? Why do you care about those stupid things? I've done right by you." "The bearded pirate said, squatting down and forcefully tilting the bathtub to pour the bloody water onto the deck.

"I've poured it all in. After attracting the fish, you can catch a few more, steam and braise them yourselves, and get a few bottles of wine. While the old captain's not around, let's have a drink, hehehe..."

The bearded pirate, agreeing with the short, thin pirate's wishes, brought up food and drink, thus rekindling their mutual resentment. The short, thin pirate chuckled along.

As the bloody water from the bathtub was poured onto the ship, the pirate fishing for piranhas quickly hooked a nearly half-meter-long blue-scaled, red-eyed fish.

"Hey! Got one? Quick, get the knife! I'm going to cut all its teeth out first, let it bleed to death on the deck." "

The short, skinny pirate said excitedly, while the bearded pirate hurriedly stepped forward and stomped on the large fish that was violently writhing on the deck.

"I'll let it taste what it's like to have its teeth cut off. When that silly Kodo Beast comes back, I'll sneak these fish teeth into his boots. Hehehe," the bearded pirate said with a hint of pride, as if he was glad that he and the short, skinny pirate had rekindled their mutual protection.

The short, skinny pirate also laughed and said, "Do you remember that rebellious mercenary who came to our ship to assassinate the old captain? He ended up having his beak cut off by Mr. Raven. If anyone dares to come again, watch how I catch him and cut off all his teeth while he's still alive." "

These two pirate cooks are quite a pair of clowns. They don't know the real story. The Raven only cut off the flesh below the nose of the man who was supposed to be 'Water's,' his aim being to remove the human skin totem from his face.

But these two think they've pulled out all his teeth, and they're even discussing it with such seriousness.

Besides, anyone who dares to infiltrate the Sea Demon is no ordinary person. Even if Water were here, if I wanted to, I could easily sneak up on them, kill them one by one, and kick them off the deck to feed the fish below the ship.

But the Raven is now..." On the Sea Demon, if I killed a pirate soldier and he found one of his henchmen missing while calling for him, his quick wit and intelligence would immediately sense a possibility.

Therefore, this was not the time; I could not easily draw my sword and kill someone unless absolutely necessary.

Chapter 419: The Sinister Heart of Xenophobia

Taking advantage of the two pirates' excitement, I grabbed the top of the hatch frame with both hands, quietly rolled down, and slipped into the Sea Demon. To conserve electricity, the corridors inside the ship were not lit by electric lights; instead, kerosene lamps were hung every few meters. The lights were dim, making it feel like entering an underground labyrinth.

I tiptoed along the floor, turning several corners before heading towards the cabin where Yi Liang had stayed. The vast Sea Demon was almost deserted, as most of the pirates were engaged in battle.

Even so, I was extremely careful with my footing, trying not to make any unnecessary noise or step into any enemy traps.

However, things weren't as I expected; Yi Liang and Chi Chun were no longer in their cabin, which didn't surprise me too much. But my heart... A growing sense of panic crept in, fearing that the cunning Captain Jason Jody might have smuggled them off the ship after I disembarked from the Sea Demon.

I crouched outside the cabin door; all was quiet, the dim light making me feel suffocated. The Sea Demon was a massive ship, and searching every inch of it in a short time would be extremely difficult.

Now, I had to capture a pirate alive and force him to reveal Yi Liang and the others' whereabouts. But I knew that no matter which pirate I captured, after my interrogation, that powerful pirate wouldn't survive and wouldn't be able to speak again.

"Ah...ah..." Suddenly, a piercing scream came from behind the wooden wall next door. The sound seemed to come from a grown man, his cries sounding as if he were suffering immense pain.

Without a second thought, I quickly left the vicinity of the sleeping pod and crept towards the source of the scream. I could tell that someone was being tortured, hence the intermittent screams.

Moreover, I could faintly hear cursing and shouting, as if someone was inflicting torture while simultaneously hurling insults. Thankfully, it was a man's voice; otherwise, I would have truly believed that Yi Liang and the others were being persecuted by these pirates.

Before leaving the Sea Demon, I had armed Yi Liang and Chi Chun and told them that if they encountered sudden danger, they should bravely shoot and kill these pirates. Therefore, I was worried about this very thing—that they might be captured alive after killing their opponents.

Those two sleazy pirate cooks, somehow, had somehow gotten up and started carrying a large basin towards the source of the wailing. Hearing them approach, I quickly flipped over and clung to the metal pipes overhead, like a monkey perched on a horizontal bar, turning my head to stare down at the two guys as they grinned and walked past me.

But they hadn't gone far when the two pirate henchmen stopped, plopped down on the basin, and panted, tongue lolling out. The short, skinny pirate, finding the basin difficult to lift, grumbled under his breath.

"Damn it, this battle has been going on for days, and it's still not over. As long as the old captain isn't back, we two brothers are stuck here doing nothing. Serving the old captain would be understandable, but Mr. Hanging Crow, an outsider, acts like a commander, ordering us around. I'm really annoyed."

Seeing this, the bearded pirate quickly lowered his voice and said, "Don't you dare spout nonsense. If Mr. Hanging Crow hears you, he'll cut your tongue out, and I might even get a beating. The less our old captain is on board, the more careful we should be. If that guy really kills us and throws us into a deep lake cave below the ship, what do you call that? It's called 'dead men tell no tales,' and he can accuse us of being spies. Do you think God will speak for you?" The short, thin

pirate fell silent for a moment. He didn't object for a moment, but muttered, "I think that girl is pretty good. Besides, I'm waiting for that guy who came with her. If he dies in this battle, I'll definitely take that girl for myself."

The bearded pirate's eyes widened, and he hurriedly said, "Don't even think about it. Every time you rob a passenger ship, you take a fancy to a few women and tell the old captain you want them. But you're a pervert. Any woman you sleep with doesn't live more than six months. Besides, that girl, and that mature woman, their men are officers on our Sea Demon. I heard they were promoted to colonel by the old captain before the battle..."

Before the bearded pirate could finish, the short, thin pirate angrily cursed, "Bullshit! Where did that guy come from? Who does he think he is? He killed so many of our brothers on that deserted island. He... he's just a prisoner of war we captured. Can you trust someone like that?" "I just don't like him. The old captain just wants to use this guy to kill people. That rank should have been awarded to me; I've served on the ship for over ten years, and I've made invaluable contributions. Why doesn't the old captain understand my intentions!"

The short, thin pirate, his agitation only intensified after saying this, was about to say something more when the bearded pirate quickly added sarcastically,

"

Come on, you guinea pig seller, you're really clueless. That girl is so pretty, and Mr. Raven is a man, how could he not be tempted? You should just stick with me. When I win more money, I'll take you to play with those sexy girls, how exciting! Hehe. I have to remind you again, the old captain isn't on the ship right now, so don't mess with Mr. Raven, or I can't handle him if he beats you up."

"Damn it, can't you be a little more sensible? So what if Mr. Raven is powerful?" "If you really piss me off, I'm a tough guy, I'll poison his food and chop off all his teeth while he struggles. Just you wait and see, if that long-haired guy comes back alive and stays on the Sea Demon to bother me, I'll put slow-acting poison in his food every day. What does marksmanship matter? What does melee combat matter? Once they're poisoned by my deadly poison, they'll all be crawling on the ground begging for my life."

"Bebini, you're fucking stupid." The bearded pirate cursed him in surprise, glancing around anxiously. As for me, I remained suspended in the darkness like a bat, watching with cold eyes.

"You can do despicable and insidious things, but you can't say despicable and insidious things. How could you say such things? Aren't you afraid of being overheard and getting yourself killed? I don't want to get involved." "This is fucking a nightmare! How could I be with a blabbermouth idiot like you?" the bearded pirate cursed and complained.

"Keep pretending, you're still no good. You trashy fishmonger, didn't you drug that African kid? Didn't you mix dead insects and saliva into his food? Don't try to play the good guy in front of me now, you bastard. Let me tell you, when I really want to do these things, you fucking have to cooperate, understand? Don't even think about jumping out and hiding, you think you can!" "

The two men, having said this, lifted their buttocks again and carried the large basin inside. Hearing this unclear conversation, my heart sank, and I couldn't help but think of many possibilities.

This short, skinny pirate cook had always coveted Yi Liang, and judging from his opinion of me, it wasn't hard to see that most of the pirates on this ship shared similar hatred and contempt for me.

Since Du Mo had been with me, he had learned a lot and seen a lot of the world, and now that he was back on the pirate ship, he certainly had a much stronger backbone. And the pirates who had always looked down on Du Mo hated this the most, unable to bear seeing someone they despised succeed.

I stared coldly at the two vicious pirate henchmen as they walked away, but just as I was about to jump down from the metal pipe, I suddenly heard a cold, chuckling laugh from ahead.

"Hehehehehe... hehehehehe..." "As I felt a jolt, I immediately realized that this was Xuan Ya's sinister laugh. Whenever he harbored murderous intent, he would become sinister and terrifying.

"Two chefs, you've been gone for so long. I thought you had fallen off the ship. Turns out you've been sitting here chatting. Come, come, let's chat together and continue our previous conversation." "

As I expected, Nine Lives Raven was very cautious. Seeing that the two pirates who had gone out to empty the dirty water were a little late returning, he cautiously came out to patrol. These two foolish pirates, venting their emotions with words, completely ignored Raven's alertness and stealth.

A guy like Raven would usually hide in the shadows and eavesdrop for a while before showing himself, but these two pirates absurdly thought that Raven would stand in the distance and bark as he walked over, displaying a bureaucratic arrogance that was commonplace.

However, the two pirate lackeys were completely wrong this time, and I, hanging high on the dark metal pipe, watched with increasingly cold eyes. It wasn't hard to imagine that if Raven had heard what these two pirate lackeys had just said, he certainly wouldn't have spared them.

"What are you trembling about? Didn't you just say you were a tough guy? Come on, let me see how tough you are. Don't worry, I won't make things difficult for you before the old captain returns."

Before the chilling words of the Crow could finish, his left hand grabbed the short, thin pirate's pale yellow hair, and his right hand, swift as lightning, seized his waist pocket, lifting him up in a flash. He slammed him into the large plastic bathtub. With a

loud thud, the tub shook violently, and the short, thin pirate immediately curled up, convulsing unnaturally. The bearded pirate, however, didn't flee in fear. He forcefully suppressed his terror and spat at the man who had almost died in the tub.

"Pah! Damn it, I've been telling you all along that Mr. Crow is a master revered by thousands. You've brought this on yourself. When the old captain returns, I'll give him a detailed report on how undisciplined you are. Our brothers risked their lives in battle, and you even had the mind to fish for piranhas for drinks! You're unworthy of being called a human being." Chapter

421: The Spying on the Pirate Outside the Cabin.

The bearded man's saliva was not only plentiful but also precise. A pool of sticky saliva slid down the cheekbone of the short, thin pirate.

Xuan Ya's strength was far beyond that of an ordinary person. The pirate who had been thrown into the bathtub, his appearance as ugly as a blind fatfish, couldn't utter a word, no matter how much resentment he harbored. Because blood was beginning to spill from the corner of his trembling mouth, and he was no longer lucid.

Although Xuan Ya said he wouldn't make things difficult for these two, he had clearly intended to kill a pirate cook with a single blow.

"Hehehe, look, he actually tripped and fell in the bathtub. The old captain isn't on board right now, what do you think we should do?" Xuan Ya regained his handsome demeanor, his tone humble as he smiled, trying to decipher the pirate's sweat-drenched face, though he dared not show any fear.

"Ah... well, this is easy to handle, Mr. Xuan Ya, no need to worry. When the old captain returns, I'll tell him he'll help you interrogate the prisoner. But while I was out relieving myself, this foolish fellow secretly went to torture the prisoner, and accidentally let him escape his ropes, then killed him. Luckily, Mr. Xuan Ya discovered it in time, preventing the prisoner from escaping the ship and ensuring the Sea Demon's location wasn't exposed."

Hearing this, Xuan Ya chuckled and gently patted the bearded pirate's shoulder. The bearded pirate, however, was so frightened that his knees buckled, and he nearly knelt on the ground.

"Hehehe, don't be afraid, you did a very good job, that's just how it is! The old captain is truly gratified to have such a capable assistant as you. Let me ask you again, how did you know I took that little girl away the night before last? Who saw it and told you?"

The bearded pirate, whose composure had slightly returned, became anxious again, but he still tried his best to restrain himself, not letting his outburst of composure offend the Raven.

"Mr. Raven, I respect you very much, so I must tell you everything completely." The bearded pirate was not calm at all. He swallowed hard and pointed directly at the nearly lifeless pirate Bebini, his voice trembling slightly.

"You wouldn't believe it, this despicable fellow is incredibly lecherous and perverted. Before you arrived, he was always spying on that beautiful mature woman and the young girl. Every night, he would linger outside their sleeping quarters, doing all sorts of shady things. I personally witnessed him stealing the beautiful mature woman's lace lingerie and wearing it to bed."

Hearing this, Raven frowned slightly. The bearded pirate, his catfish-like eyes darting around, immediately understood Raven's meaning. He knew Raven was impatient with these slanders of Bebini and flattery, and wanted to know the reason quickly.

So, Bebini went to spy on them again last night and saw you having a little boy lead the two women away from the Sea Demon. Of course, you must have had your reasons, a profound purpose, a far-sighted and preemptive strategy. So I think you did the right thing. But that scumbag Bebini keeps complaining about you, saying you took away the woman he'd been lusting after for so long. "I despise this guy. Everyone's fighting hard right now, and you, Mr. Xuan Ya, are returning covered in blood. It makes me, the one left on the ship only to cook, very uneasy."

Xuan Ya grinned and said kindly, "Not bad! You understand the spirit of this pirate war very well. That's rare indeed. You'll definitely have a bright future."

I remained clinging to the metal pipe in the darkness, watching this disgraceful pirate cook from afar. He was trying to survive by playing such tricks in front of Xuan Ya, but little did he know that Xuan Ya wouldn't let him live.

Although Xuan Ya praised him, he wouldn't appreciate this kind of guy at all, and would instead gather a bunch of petty people and trash around him. If that's the case, then Xuan Ya's death isn't far off either.

I never expected that Xuan Ya's second-in-command, Little Coral, had been lurking by his side all along, and that just last night, she had already used a speedboat to transfer Yi Liang and Chi Chun. That cunning Xuan Ya must have tricked Yi Liang and the others, saying he was going to see me by speedboat, but actually hid them somewhere else.

The bearded pirate who just mentioned that Captain Jason Jody wasn't on board, and that Raven's move of Yi Liang and Chi Chun, might not have been Jason Jody's intention.

Because, after hearing that the two pirate cooks had witnessed last night's events, Raven was very sensitive to anyone else who knew about it besides himself.

Raven had probably also been to the top of Waterfall Island, seen the forest of stone pillars, and knew of the existence of the "Bana Organization." And now, he probably understood why Destiny Water had acted so strangely back then.

Among the eight legendary assassins, none of them could contend with the Banai Organization alone. Destiny Water had become so powerful during those years, a time when he was earning hefty commissions, and he wasn't willing to give it up. Therefore, he relied on the Pirate King and his eleven Guardian Demons, intending to continue joining the ranks of headhunters in the future.

Chapter 422: A Face with No Return.

As for Raven, judging from how he killed the cook Bebini on the Sea Demon, he had already begun to protect himself.

If this cunning Nine-Lives Raven managed to secretly move Yi Liang and Chi Chun away while Jason Jody was away on the ship, it further proves that he wants to hold onto me tightly and get a share of the treasure chest I hid on the deserted island.

Just a few days ago, I told Raven that there were so many large-carat gems that they could be scooped up like rice grains and make a rustling sound. The appearance of the Panai Organization was very sudden for Raven. He didn't have much room to maneuver. He couldn't find, and didn't have time to find, a support like the Guardian Demon. The treasure chest wealth that I promised to give him became his last resort.

Once he got this wealth, even if things went wrong, he could give up his headhunting career and hide away in some corner of the earth to enjoy the rest of his life. But if he didn't get it and retired before he had accumulated enough capital, then it would depend on whether he was willing to use his hands, which had killed countless people, to return to the social survival chain and work.

However, his face, which had not yet been revealed, was covered with dense totems. Who could guarantee that he wouldn't bring about his own death because of this?

I clung to the metal pipe, my cold gaze piercing the darkness as I watched them. Nine Lives Raven didn't immediately kill the bearded pirate; instead, he had him help carry the large basin towards the warehouse from which the pitiful screams had come.

I climbed down the metal pipe and stealthily approached, observing who their prisoners were, whether they were the pirate king's elite soldiers.

Following the metal pipe outside the warehouse, I climbed to the top and, through a small hole, used my dagger to part the intertwined electrical wires, peering inside.

There were five prisoners, all men, mostly stripped naked and bound hand-to-hand. Their bodies were covered in bloody whip marks, and their legs and arms were riddled with steel nails.

The interrogator was Nine Lives Raven himself. Inside the warehouse, a burly, shirtless pirate picked up a bucket of cold water and poured it over a prisoner who had already fainted on the ropes.

"Hey! Be alert, be alert, Mr. Hanging Crow is going to question you." The shirtless pirate, while putting the bucket back, walked to the table piled with torture instruments, picked up a small box, and returned to the dripping captive.

I was immediately startled. Among the five men hanging, two were emaciated and pale. Looking at their faces, I could immediately recognize them as the mourning monks who sealed the souls of the corpses in the Stone Pillar Forest.

In Southeast Asia, Buddhism is widespread. Scriptures record that within eight hours of death, the most feared thing is someone weeping beside the deceased, because this prevents the soul from ascending and causing it to miss the opening of the gates of Heaven.

A soul floating in mid-air tries to fly into an open gate, but is held back by the tears of mourning. Seeing the gate about to close, unable to fly in, it desperately shouts, but those beside it are in another dimension and cannot hear it. Once the gates of Heaven close, the fallen soul can only slide into the abyss to meet the judges of Avici Hell.

What should be done then? Simply put, a monk steps forward and says in a melodious voice, "Amitabha! Please step aside so this old monk can perform a ritual for the departed soul, helping it to ascend to the Pure Land. Donors need not spend money; just prepare some incense money. Monks are not greedy. As for how much to give, sincerity is key; there is no upper limit."

The whole sequence of events, cause and effect, is so perfectly aligned and smooth because it all stems from the same principle. We can believe in one world to escape another, but we must clearly understand what we are truly revering—is it a person, a statue, or perhaps even the anxieties within our own hearts?

My father was a volunteer soldier, and he also believed in Buddhism, but Buddhism resided in his heart. He spent his life with my mother, and every year after selling the tea they grew at the market, he would use some of the money to travel around Yunnan and Guizhou, buying pencils and erasers for children studying in remote mountain villages.

This allowed my father, a man of modest means, to find the most genuine happiness and contentment with the least amount of money. God may have already given us the best, but too many people only focus on desire, straying far from the path to divine grace.

I remember those impoverished children most desired a soft eraser; they didn't use much paper in their notebooks.

They would erase the pencil marks from their notebooks and then continue writing neat Chinese characters with pencils. The noble virtue of diligence and thrift of a nation was embodied in these children's small, tender hands.

My father always taught them to write words like "love," "peace," and "nation," hoping they would grow up to be upright, kind, and never forget their roots. Only now do I truly understand that my father's sacred image resided in his heart, in his faith.

Chapter 423 - The Free Bird (Final Chapter)

Respecting parents who deserve respect is a virtue; blindly surrendering and conforming to parents who are not always right is foolish. Truly loving and enlightened parents wouldn't want their children to be like that. I believe she understood me.

After saying goodbye to this simple and kind village teacher, I hired a horse-drawn carriage from the village and, carrying our luggage and the feigningly sick Luya, headed to the county town. In the evening, the driver took us to the county hospital. I gave the driver 100 yuan and quickly sent him away.

Watching the carriage drive away, Luya finally stopped her feigned illness and happily jumped up and down, hugging Yiliang. I found a taxi, went to the bus station, and drove overnight to Kunming, the provincial capital.

The next morning, after getting up at a hotel in Kunming, I went to three banks—the Agricultural Bank of China, the Construction Bank of China, and the Commercial Bank of China—and deposited 5 million RMB in cash. Then, through a transfer at the Bank of China, I accumulated 400,000 USD. These two figures clearly indicate the two countries involved. Next, I went straight to the airport and bought three tickets from Kunming to Tokyo, Japan.

That evening, as I sat on the plane, 12,000 meters above the ground, Luya and Yiliang, who had been excited all day, were fast asleep, heads close together. Outside the window, clusters of stars twinkled amicably, as if telling the first-time air passengers that there would be no bad weather that night.

As the plane crossed the East China Sea, I also drowsily closed my eyes. The next morning, we landed on time at Tokyo Airport. Stepping out of the cabin, a cool sea breeze greeted me. The airport was flat and open, with flatbed carts carrying five ounces of checked luggage slowly passing by, seemingly oblivious to the massive aircraft landing beside them.

I told Luya and Yiliang to wrap themselves up tightly and followed me outside. This was my first time seeing Japan's capital, and it felt more like a dense, impenetrable concrete jungle. I hadn't informed Dumo beforehand about this trip to Japan, and I didn't want to call him yet, so I dialed Chi Chun's mobile number in Japan.

"Moshi moshi, oh mai wa..." A sweet, melodious woman's voice instantly reached my ears. A surge of memories told me it was Chi Chun's voice. Before she could finish speaking, I calmly and quietly said, "It's me."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a woman's sobs. "I'm at Tokyo airport. Come alone in your own car." With that, I hung up.

Fifteen minutes later, a brand-new green Mitsubishi minivan pulled up at the airport entrance. Lu Ya recognized the stylish, beautiful woman in brown sunglasses inside—it was Chi Chun, whom everyone had been missing.

I could tell at a glance that this car wasn't her usual vehicle. She knew I was a "restless" man and guessed that my trip to Japan wasn't simply to visit her.

I gestured to Chi Chun from a distance, signaling her not to get out of the car. Lu Ya and Yi Liang, dragging their luggage, ran quickly to the car. Once we were inside, Chi Chun's beautiful eyes were already wet with tears. She threw herself into my arms, holding on tightly for a long time.

"Let's go to a restaurant for dinner, then find a hotel," I said, stroking Chi Chun's soft hair, urging her to start the car quickly. On the way, I asked Chi Chun about her child. She said that since returning to China, her mother-in-law had taken the child away, and she rarely saw him anymore.

Chi Chun took us to an elegant restaurant. There, Lu Ya and Yi Liang each ordered their favorite dishes. They both agreed that Chi Chun was even more beautiful than before. I could also see that since Chi Chun returned to the upper-middle class lifestyle, her demeanor and mannerisms had become even more alluring.

After a pleasant meal, we went to a mid-range hotel in Tokyo, which Chi Chun had led us to, and checked in. Lu Ya and Yi Liang went into the bathroom to shower, and Chi Chun hugged me tightly again, kissing me passionately.

Chi Chun asked if I was staying in Japan long-term. She said her husband had gone to Australia again, and she couldn't see her children and missed me terribly. She didn't know how she had been getting through these days.

I didn't say anything as she talked about this. Chi Chun then said, "Actually, I know that if you come to Japan to see me one day, it's because you've encountered something and want to entrust Yi Liang and Lu Ya to you. I always feel that you still have unresolved grudges with those terrible guys." Chi Chun murmured, nestled in my arms.

"No, as long as I stay away from those guys, the trouble won't happen. I plan to go to Madagascar again to retrieve something." After I finished speaking, Chi Chun suddenly hugged me tightly.

"Can you not go? Don't go! What's more important than everyone's well-being now!" I understood Chi Chun's reasoning, but I couldn't agree to her request.

"I really came to Tokyo to entrust Lu Ya and Yi Liang to you this time," I said after hesitating for a moment.

"I'm so scared. Even without you by my side, I don't want you to go back there again." I gently lifted Chi Chun's pretty face and smiled faintly at her.

"You're overthinking it. During the months I've been staying in China, I've already raised some cash for Luya and Yiliang's future. This time, I'm only going back to southern Africa to retrieve some things; I won't get involved in any fighting. If something goes wrong and I can't return for a long time, you must treat these two girls like your own sisters and take good care of their future."

Chi Chun started sobbing again; she seemed to distrust my words. I said, "In this world, you're the only person I can entrust them to. After I leave, if you encounter any other trouble, have Dumo come to Japan to help you."

I've been staying in Tokyo for ten days, and I've left the van that Chi Chun brought with me for those ten days. These past few days, the few of us have been together every day, eating, drinking, and playing together. Only Chi Chun harbors a secret worry about me. But she still cherishes this time.

My flight to Madagascar had a layover in Singapore. Actually, I took another plane from Singapore directly to the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa, then rented a car and drove overnight to Durban.

Taking advantage of the transition between dusk and night, I followed the straight road I'd once traveled with Raven to Ubo Manor, quickly reaching the mountainside where I'd hidden the gems after escaping the manor. Everything went smoothly, and I retrieved my bag of treasure. Filled with excitement, I drove back to the Cape of Good Hope without stopping and immediately bought a ticket back to Japan. During

my time away from Japan, while Chi Chun entertained the two girls, she didn't forget my request. She helped me contact many wealthy female friends; these ladies and young women had an innate obsession with gems. They indirectly bought four-fifths of the gems I possessed with considerable sums of yen. All of this was inseparable from Chi Chun's intelligence and her social network.

I will no longer siphon this illicit fortune from the black market, because I believe that, in order to capture me and my wealth, while he has planted spies on the deserted island, he has most likely also set up informants in some underground black markets. I'll send him to hell. I'd rather never open the treasure chests on the deserted island in my entire life than let this guy profit from me again.

The gems that Chi Chun helped me clean out were worth over 5 million US dollars, which is definitely more humane than the reward Zamir gave me. However, I did something to Chi Chun that she found even more incomprehensible.

A year later… I was wearing a pure white ski suit, skiing down a small ski resort in the Alps. Behind me followed two little girls dressed similarly, wearing green goggles, their movements nimble and light.

Yes, these two girls had both grown a year older. Now, they don't have to worry about food, clothing, or shelter every day, but they have to undergo the test of me, their strict instructor.

"Hey! Miss Luya, why do you always have such a stern face, looking so fierce? An assassin shouldn't wear their intentions on their sleeve." I leaned against a snow-covered pine tree, watching Luya speed past.

"Why are we working so hard all the time?" Yi Liang, having slid down to the foot of the mountain, covered her mouth with her hands to vent her frustration and shouted at me from the snow-covered mountainside.

"Because Switzerland is so beautiful, but it doesn't represent the whole world..." Luya echoed Yi Liang, shouting back up the mountain.

I smiled, pushed aside the tree I was leaning against, and like a free bird, swooped down towards the two girls.

[Humanity Forbidden Island - Completed]

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Humanity Forbidden Island [Complete] - Chapter 28

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