Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 14

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Chapter 193: The Iron Eagle Submerged in the Reeds

Those sticky things, even after my head emerged from the water, still greedily clung to my face, causing an itchy, stinging pain, like being smeared with chili peppers. My eyes and cheeks were connected by flesh and blood; it quickly and actively pressed itself against the sniper scope, eager to take down the two Apaches quickly so I could have time to deal with this burning pain.

In the distance, the sun on the mountaintops began to glow with its afterglow, taking on the shape of a sunset. The world in the sniper scope was filled with blood red; two helicopters, their propellers flapping, hovered in the depths of the green ocean, resembling dragonflies printed on film. At

the end of the reed marshes, as if a typhoon had struck, countless slender reeds swayed back and forth, battered by the air pressure, like starving people kneeling and crying out to the heavens. "Your howling wings frightened God's infant, who lay prostrate on the solid earth, giving thanks for life..." I silently recited the Bible while adjusting the focus of the sniper scope.

Standing in the water, my chest bobbing back and forth with the lake water, made sniping quite difficult. I lifted my heels, letting my toes drill into the muddy bottom like drills. This made my body like a stake driven into the water, reducing the swaying of the waves. My

"T"-shaped crosshair gradually focused. The Apache on my right, its tail fin not perpendicular to my line of sight, needed to be shot down first. "Bang!" A bullet filled with anger shot out of the barrel, shaking the reeds right next to the top of the barrel, flying towards the target I had focused on.

In the scope, the metal shaft under the propeller flashed a streak of fire. The machine made of heavy metal was not made of human flesh and blood; it couldn't splatter blood, so it could only emit thick smoke.

The rapidly spinning propeller, though still supported by a stainless steel axle, had lost its balance, causing friction and heat. So, the smoke, like a suddenly sprouting black tail, gradually rose high into the air above the reeds.

The Apache on the right, like a wounded eagle, began to sway violently and tilted uncontrollably towards the lake. The pilot, seated in the sturdy, bulletproof cockpit, was unable to escape and plunged into the deep lake with the crashing helicopter. The machine

gunner and four pirates armed with M16 assault rifles escaped by jumping from the hatch, which was over twenty meters high. Even with parachutes, their protection was ineffective.

Below lay thick reeds and soft mudflats; the five pirates, unwilling to die with their pilot, were unlikely to be killed, but would certainly suffer minor injuries. The second Apache, hovering above the reeds, seeing its comrade wounded by a sniper and crashing, immediately shut down its rotors, allowing the aircraft to descend vertically in the shortest possible time.

The swaying lake water around my neck severely hampered the speed at which my arm emerged from the water. After ejecting the spent cartridge, the Apache's four propellers moved as slowly as a donkey pulling a millstone, quickly disappearing behind the reeds at the front of the sniper scope, like a wild duck eager to return to its nest being pulled down by a leaping fox and submerged in the boundless green waves.

I lost my target and could no longer destroy the enemy's aircraft. The six pirates on board would soon advance in a wave-like formation, coordinated with their accomplices who had jumped down. Compared to the machine gun bullets, this search was more dense and more effective at taking advantage of the situation. I wet

my right hand, squeezed the barrel to lower the temperature of the bullet friction, and put the condom I had just taken off back on. I reached down and touched my face; those soft things immediately contracted and burrowed inwards a few times.

Looking down at my reflection in the water, I saw four leeches, their bodies swollen and bloated from sucking blood, hanging from the corners of my eyes and cheeks, like tears of blood piled up and refusing to fall.

At that moment, there was no time to deal with them; the ten pirates, armed with automatic rifles, were running towards me. Gripping the thin reed in my mouth, I sank slowly to the bottom of the lake like a crocodile that had missed its prey.

With this small breathing device, underwater swimming became much easier. Firstly, it slowed my pace, preventing large ripples; secondly, it allowed me to draw my dagger to defend myself against the water monsters attacking me in the darkness.

Relying on my memory from before entering the water, I swam along the edge of the submerged reeds towards the helicopter. This 1,000-meter underwater swim was extremely dangerous. In the cold, dark lake water, I was repeatedly pecked at by inexplicable things, like the hands of countless drowned little savages grabbing and shaking my trouser legs, sending chills down my spine.

I dared not open my eyes; even if I did, I wouldn't see anything. Those might have been grass carp over half a meter long, or perhaps large carp. Whenever they approached to harass me, I brandished my sharp blade; I had no idea how many I'd stabbed or wounded. Luckily, these creatures didn't have the teeth of piranhas, otherwise I would have been a bloody skeleton before even surfacing.

About ten minutes later, the ten pirates scattered into the reeds had passed me. I continued swimming deeper into the reeds, while they, filled with rage, continued to encircle me from the outer edge.

When I reached the soft, fine roots again, I slowly surfaced. I was still surrounded by dense reeds, tightly enveloping me. I dared not move too much, fearing there might be enemies lingering near the helicopter.

I tried to slow down, avoiding large ripples from my movements, which would cause the reeds to sway abnormally and attract stray bullets. I removed the AK-47 rifle from my back, but left the sheath at the barrel.

Because I was still in a state of intermittent visibility, the inside of the barrel had to be kept clean. If we open fire, the impact of the bullets will naturally break through the shroud and accurately hit the target.

The dagger in my hand, which I had modified into a gleaming bayonet, I used to gently part the dense reeds. Through the jagged poles, I could vaguely glimpse the Apache helicopter that had made an emergency landing.

A pirate with bluish cheeks, wearing dark red glasses, was bent over, inspecting something. He hadn't joined his teammates in the encirclement; he must have made up an excuse, claiming a machine malfunction, to stay on the plane.

Because every time he fiddled with something, he would anxiously look around, afraid of being shot. He was like an actor in a soap opera, earnestly shoveling food into his mouth from an empty bowl.

This kind of cheap emotional drama, relying solely on tears, misunderstandings, and arguments, easily fools a hardworking, simple housewife. But in the eyes of professionals, it's all clumsy trickery.

And this helicopter pilot, in my eyes, was also a cheap trick. He showed no signs of the tension one would expect from repairing machinery; he was clearly just putting on a show. Searching the dense reeds for hidden enemies was indeed dangerous. If the pilot were shot and killed, those guys would have to rely on their limbs to return to the mother ship.

Chapter 194: Seeds Planted in Flesh.

I know pilots well; their courage belongs only to the sky, firing machine guns from high above or launching light missiles to chase fleeing targets on land. Once they make a forced landing, within the range of enemy ground forces, they become much less daring.

After observing for a while, confirming that there was only one person around the iron bird crouching in the grass, I leveled my AKA rifle and fired at the enemy with his back to me. To improve accuracy, I removed the bayonet and then pulled the trigger twice.

"Ta-da!" The powerful bullets, with a heavy roar, shot towards the target the crosshairs were aimed at. The pirate pretending to repair the machinery kept his eyes on the right side of the reeds, always thinking I might sneak around through the mud to ambush him.

In reality, I fired at his protruding buttocks. Two bullets, like a string of pearls, struck the pirate's buttocks. The fine camouflage fabric was blasted with two irregular holes.

Although the guy was wearing green underwear, the AK-47 bullets were unusually violent, leaving two dark marks on his snow-white buttocks, the bullet holes like suddenly opened bloodshot eyes, blood gushing out like a gushing spring.

The hit enemy immediately lost his balance, his body falling to the side, sliding down the arc of the aircraft nose. I reverted my dagger to a bayonet as I ran towards the hit target. The lake water gradually receded from my chest to my knees, then to my ankles.

The enemy's pelvic bones were probably shattered by the bullet, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down, but not immediately dead, wailing in agony.

To silence the noise, I brandished my gleaming bayonet in front of his head, then gripped the butt and stabbed his throat with deadly force. Blood trickled down his neck, resembling a necklace of ruby beads. In truth, this shortened his suffering.

Sure enough, the helicopter wasn't damaged. I took the sniper rifle from my back, quickly sat in the cabin, and sealed the door. The landing Iron Eagle's four propellers began to spin again, gradually increasing in speed until they emitted a "thud-thud-thud" sound.

The scenery on either side of my eyes slowly sank, and when I reached a certain height, I pushed the forward stick again. Without looking back, the Apache charged headlong towards the mountainside at the edge of the reeds. The pirates searching the edge of the reeds would surely be astonished. At least for the time being, they couldn't determine whether the pilot was friend or foe.

The small propeller on the tail, like a windmill, slowly swayed and turned under my control. I had shed my sniper disguise, donned the pirate pilot's hat and goggles, stood tall and proud, and flew at full speed towards the direction where the reeds met the hillside.

To confuse the nine pirates in the reeds, I deliberately fired hundreds of overloaded rounds towards the center of the lake mid-flight, misleading the enemy in the reeds. Countless blazing lines of fire, like the whips of demons, lashed into the unfathomable depths of the lake. Then, the helicopter suddenly swerved to the left, rushing along the center line of the reeds.

For a long time, I could only fight on the ground. Now, suddenly, high above, overlooking the verdant mountains, the mirror-like lake, and the vast expanse of green below, the entire landscape was revealed, a breathtaking panorama. An

unprecedented sense of exhilaration washed over me. The pilot's cap was distinctive, with bulging fabric covering his ears, and his brown glasses made the entire island appear as if it were a blood-red world.

No wonder these guys were chasing me so relentlessly from the helicopter; it was practically a hunt. The nine pirates in the reeds jumped and waved at me, cheering, thinking their teammates had taken down the sniper swimming on the lake.

I pressed a yellow button labeled "track," then a black button labeled "target," and finally a red button labeled "fire." On the monitor, a superimposed square cursor changed from gray to green, indicating successful focus, and the crosshair in the center began to flash.

I knew I had successfully locked onto the target, waiting only for the red button to fire. A pirate in beige camouflage fired rapidly into the air, signaling to land and pick him up. With a cold smile playing on my lips, a missile resembling a large ear of corn shot out with a whoosh, spitting blue flames as it hurtled towards his chest.

The man reacted with lightning speed; his flushed forehead instantly turned white. In that instant, he fully realized that his fellow pilot had been killed, and the enemy had taken control of the aircraft.

The micro-missile, like a swallow chasing an insect, darted through the air, catching up with the fleeing pirate.

Such a powerful impact meant that even if he ran, he could still create a gaping hole the size of a teacup, piercing through his chest and back.

With a deafening roar, a black mushroom cloud erupted, sending mud and grass raining down. Fireworks quickly ignited on the succulent reeds. The pirate in the beige camouflage uniform had his limbs and head blown off, disappearing into the thick reeds.

His torso was almost entirely reduced to minced flesh and bone. The splattered blood, before it could even disperse into a mist, was swallowed by the black smoke.

"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat-tat..." I pressed the machine gun launcher with my thumb, and the Iron Eagle Apache immediately spat out a dense barrage of bullets, once again spreading like a seed-sowing machine towards the remaining pirates.

Several pirates with broken legs turned pale and panicked upon seeing the helicopter's counterattack. Three of them used their guns as crutches, limping and clutching their heads as they desperately fled into the depths of the reeds. Unfortunately, the oncoming machine gun bullets mercilessly tore them apart.

Some had their heads split open, their red and white sap splattering onto the reeds, refusing to fall, bending the reed stalks like boatmen unable to straighten their backs. The other two had their waists broken, their heads separated from their bodies.

"Clang, clang, whoosh, buzz..." The helicopter, like an armored warhorse, trampled over the enemy's bodies, but bullets from the enemy's return fire came flying from behind. A few remaining pirates, crouching in the thick reeds, desperately fired their M16 automatic rifles at the aircraft's tail.

Sitting in the cockpit, I was also on tenterhooks. If the enemy accidentally hit the tail rotor, the helicopter wouldn't be able to turn around and carry out the next round of air strikes. However, the Apache's design was perfect, with many defensive devices against vertical attacks from the ground.

I quickly turned the helicopter around and faced the enemy again. The five pirates who were retaliating would face another round of life-or-death sweep.

Two guys in green camouflage stared at the slowly approaching Apache with wide, terrified eyes. They looked at each other, exchanged a knowing glance, dropped their weapons, and ran and scrambled into the dense reeds, trying to escape the clutches of death.

Chapter 195: Back to the Maze of Carnage

"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat-tat..." Whistling bullets rained down on them, instantly tearing off their arms and skulls. The last three pirates, knowing that being targeted at such close range would make escape nearly impossible, had no choice but to fight to the death, desperately firing their M16 assault rifles in an attempt to shoot down the Apache I was piloting.

However, as the helicopter prepared to turn around for its third and final strafing maneuver, one of the remaining pirates somehow managed to hit the tail of the aircraft. I immediately felt a jolt; the Apache, suspended in mid-air, felt like a cat chasing its own tail.

I quickly shut off the propellers, letting the plane circle as it descended. With a loud crash, a violent jolt coursed through my body, nearly causing me to faint. I frantically opened the hatch, grabbed my camouflage suit and rifle, and ran towards the dense reeds. I was worried about the plane exploding, and also that the three pirates who had shot it down would surely seize the opportunity to attack.

As I ran, I threw off my flight cap and goggles, replacing them with my sniper gear. Descending from the sky, my previous bird's-eye view vanished; the thick reeds obscuring my view once again plunged me and the enemy into a bloody maze of combat.

I ran to the water's edge, and before the three pirates could get close, I hurriedly opened my pocket and poured my urine into my empty canteen. One of the leeches on my face almost crawled into my eyeball. Clutching the warm military water bottle, I quickly poured some into my right palm and lowered my face to let the half-exposed leech soak in it.

These bloodsucking leeches couldn't be pulled directly off my face; otherwise, their mouthparts would break off and remain in the wound, causing infection. We weren't on a large ship now, so we couldn't use salt. I had to use the sodium chloride in my urine to stimulate the leeches to detach themselves.

This primitive medical method was like sulfuric acid poured on flesh—a fierce burn—for the bloodsucking leeches. The soft-bodied leeches, swelled with human blood and turned bright red, were now trembling and writhing violently between my cheeks and palms, as if experiencing the burning pain.

My face was extremely uncomfortable; I could clearly feel the leech curling up, trying to detach and fall back into the water. Each bloodsucking worm that crawled out of the wound curled into a fleshy ball in my palm, as if afraid of having its fill of blood stolen.

Normally, I would have pulled out my dagger and made cross-cuts on each of them, killing them instantly. Because these things are similar to earthworms; cutting them in half only helps them reproduce. Therefore, cross-cuts are the only effective way to kill them.

But now, facing a powerful opponent, I didn't have time to decapitate a few worms, yet I hated these opportunistic creatures, so I quickly stuffed them into the water bottle.

The enemy dared not move freely, but cautiously crept towards me. As I used the water as a mirror to clean the wound on my cheek with iodine, I estimated the three pirates had reached the center of the reeds, about 300 meters away.

Clutching my long sniper rifle, I sprinted towards the mountainside at the end of the reeds, hoping to pin them down in the reeds. But I never expected what I was about to witness: a sight that would shatter my will to resist.

As I lay in ambush halfway up the mountain, using a T-shaped crosshair to track the three pirates in the reeds, the massive ridge I had glimpsed briefly from the mountaintop reappeared in the vast lake. It was far from the Cretaceous monster I had imagined; it was the Sea Demon's hidden weapon—a nuclear submarine.

It turned out the Sea Demon had arrived at the island long ago, first using submarines to conduct underwater reconnaissance around the island, detecting the sonar of the Cang Gui ship. Because the water level was too low for the enemy to penetrate the mountain streams, they dispatched small yachts, which swept in unopposed to search the area.

This also explains why the enemy's mother ship hasn't appeared yet. The small yachts are not small, and there are many of them, indicating that the enemy's mother ship is enormous, far beyond the capacity of the fifty-meter-long yacht.

It seems that this time, they have made thorough preparations for robbing Cang Gui's arms. In the center of the lake, a white column of water surged up, followed by a small red submarine. It might have been decommissioned by a European or American country more than ten years ago. Jason Jody being able to buy such a thing shows that he is indeed not a simple pirate leader.

At the same time, I also had a feeling that behind this powerful pirate organization, there must be something even more powerful.

At the confluence of the mountain stream and the lake, five more small white yachts filled with pirates appeared. I immediately understood that the enemy had launched a general attack. With just a sniper rifle, it would be difficult to fight them off anymore. Moreover, the women hiding in the woods have closed the distance with these pirates, and if a battle breaks out in this area, they will be easily discovered.

I had to abandon my attempt to shoot the pirates in the reeds, quickly scrambled down, and, hugging the edge of the reeds, crouched low and dashed towards the opposite hilltop. Now, I had to lure the enemy back.

Once these pirates had taken all the munitions from the large ship, they would surely use the torpedoes from their nuclear submarine to destroy the ship and escape, leaving their opponents forever stranded on this prison-like island.

When I was halfway there, God turned against me, and the wheel of fate began to turn. To avoid the enemy as much as possible, I had to run in a zigzag pattern, but unfortunately, I stepped into a mud pit.

I hadn't been caught in the man-eating swamp in the deep mud, but now, at this crucial moment, I was stuck in a mud pit. I quickly held my sniper rifle across my chest, using its weight to create buoyancy and slow my descent. But I was still slowly sinking; the reeds beside me couldn't withstand the pull of the grappling hook. Moreover, the more I struggled to break free, the more I sank.

Just as the mud reached my chest, my military boots unexpectedly stepped on hard ground. This near-death experience nearly cost me two-thirds of my life. I twisted my neck to look around, but saw no dry tree stumps. Bound by the mud, I could only twist, not move, like a small insect stuck in a spiderweb.

Finally, I spotted a wooden stick to my left, about as thick as an average person's arm. But my sniper rifle wasn't long enough to reach it, so I swung the grappling hook. Breathing became increasingly difficult; my chest felt like it was filled with cement. If an enemy approached at that moment, they could easily smash my head with just the butt of their rifle.

The more anxious I became, the less accurately I could throw the hook, because I couldn't rotate my body. I could only use one arm to throw the meat hook about fifteen meters away.

However, when I pulled hard on the sharp iron hook, intending to hook the mud-covered stump, it violently shuddered, twisting its two-meter-long body and swimming towards me through the muddy, grassy water.

Chapter 196: Hanging from the Slaughter Basin

When I roughly realized what it was, I almost shed my human skin and leap out of the mud. Such a large electric eel, its electric discharge was definitely between 300 and 800 volts, practically an underwater high-voltage line.

If this thing pecked my cheek, it would be hard to survive. I quickly grabbed my sniper rifle, intending to kill it with a long-range attack. At the same time the shot rang out, a powerful electric current surged through my arm and body, enveloping the mud around me as if cactus thorns had suddenly sprouted, making me wish I were dead. The sniper

rifle was wet; although it wounded the electric eel, I was struck by the current. In the instant I lost consciousness, my heart sank. The weeping faces of Yi Liang and Lu Ya appeared before my eyes, but in that instant, it was too difficult not to let go of everything in this world. Before I could even feel joy or sorrow, my free will vanished.

My vision blurred for the last time, as if suddenly plunged into darkness, and then I lost consciousness.

I don't know how much time passed, but when I awoke again, my long hair, hanging down my face, was dripping wet, followed by the pain of my limbs being bound and suspended. I was awakened by a bucket of icy stream water. The surroundings were familiar; it was the large ship's living room I had fought so hard to obtain.

Several burly pirates, their faces contorted with rage, glared at me, their teeth clenched. They were muttering something I couldn't understand, because my brain ached with pain whenever I tried to think. Suddenly, a large, rough hand grabbed my hair from my forehead and forcefully lifted my face upwards.

Jason Jody, dressed in a dark blue uniform, was smoking his pipe, watching me with a nonchalant expression. Although he wore dark glasses, the cold gaze hidden behind the lenses was sharp. My heavy body almost dislocated my shoulders. I tried to contract my stomach, attempting to open my eyes wider and clear my vision.

A pirate wearing a white mask, holding an iron awl in his left hand and a sharp dagger in his right, strode towards me, sharpening it rapidly. Two other shirtless pirates shoved a wooden basin and bucket under me.

My wrists and ankles, tied together, were pinned behind my back; I knew they were going to kill me. The two burly men ripped open my shirt, revealing bulging pectoral muscles and a bulging abdomen.

The sight made my stomach churn violently. "Ugh!" A mouthful of thin, acidic liquid spurted from my mouth, splashing into the basin filled with blood. The blood—whether human or animal—was a stark visual assault. They were creating a terrifying scene, but I knew the chances of being killed were extremely high.

Now, I didn't know if Yi Liang and the others had been discovered, or if they had also been captured and brought onto this large ship. The blood in this basin might even be from some woman. I struggled to open my mouth, managing only a weak sound.

"Self-redempti%u, self-redempti%u…" I repeated weakly, trying to make Jason Jody, the pirate leader, hear me. Wealth was incredibly tempting to pirates, but Jason Jody remained cold and serious, completely ignoring my words.

A dark-skinned pirate, his skin gleaming, sketched on my chest with a pen, designing how to dissect me. From the pattern he drew, I knew he was going to cut away my pectoral muscles first, then shave my abdominal muscles—a technique that would slow the death of the victim, allowing them to experience the pain throughout.

"Ugh." I vomited another gush of bile, my stomach feeling like it was about to burst, like a plastic bag. But this also brought me back to my senses. With all my might, I shouted, "Self-redempti%u, self-redempti%u!"

Just as the sharp, bull-ear-shaped knife was about to cut into the muscles in front of my chest, Jason Jody suddenly spoke: "Stop!" His words were intimidating, startling the three pirates holding me, who stared at him with wide, astonished eyes.

"Killing him will only yield a useless corpse," Jason Jody said, stroking his chin and taking two steps forward. “Chasing Horse, how many of my brothers have you killed? Can you even afford to buy your own freedom? You are my prey, a live, bound venison? You are not even worthy to speak like a slave.”

Jason Jody's words startled me; he actually knew my name. I slightly raised my head, feigning a disdainful smirk. "A fugitive mercenary wanted in Southeast Asia. Although your rank isn't on par with the regular army, judging by your skills, you're a top-tier Ghost Sniper. Don't speak yet; answer my questions. If you dare to tell a lie, I'll immediately cut off two pounds of your muscle."

With that, he put his pipe back in his mouth. "Why are you alone on the island? Where did Cang Gui and the others go?" I lowered my head again, not letting this guy with eyes hidden behind sunglasses see my eyes. "We were mercenaries bought by Cang Gui. The big ship was used for infighting; we killed each other until only I was left."

Jason Jody didn't speak; he bit his pipe tightly, carefully considering the sincerity in my words. To interrupt his thoughts, I feigned cooperation, saying, "I killed to protect myself; there was no enmity between us. I bought my own life with twelve pigeon eggs."

"Hmph, I have plenty of money, but your life isn't worth that much," Jason Jody sneered. "At least it's better than you getting a corpse." The rope dangling in mid-air had already numbed my joints, making me numb. I knew it was dangerous; if I didn't find a way to land, I might be crippled.

*Smack!* A dark shadow flashed, and my right cheek was struck hard. Jason Jody's hand, hidden behind his back, held a pair of pliers, which he lashed out at me. In that instant, blood streamed from my right brow, dripping and making it impossible to open my eye. At least three of my back teeth were knocked out by this brutal blow.

I knew that beating a physically strong mercenary in this way and with this force wasn't unusual, but I had to learn to protect myself. I couldn't give up even if there was only a sliver of hope for survival. As long as I was alive, this was the battlefield.

"Shut up!" Jason Jody was furious. He realized I was interfering with his thinking, but he wasn't sure if I was lying. However, his heavy blow had already disfigured half my face. His attack was so ruthless; it seemed he had no intention of letting me live.

"Hmph, heh, you hit like a woman." I forced myself to endure the suffocating pain, deliberately adopting a tough-guy tone in my reply. In reality, I was using words to stop his hand from striking me again.

I had to protect my mind; otherwise, even if an opportunity arose, I wouldn't be able to seize it. Jason Jody fell into thought again. His lack of interest in the diamond deal I proposed added a sense of foreboding to me.

If he wasn't greedy, I would have to make a new judgment as quickly as possible, always catering to his desires and keeping him from thinking of killing me.

Chapter 197: The Prisoner's Weapon

"I'm a mercenary, like a killing machine. You don't need to blame me for shooting anyone, because you didn't control the machine itself." I lowered my head as much as possible, making Jason Jody think that I had been badly beaten by him. The pirate captain

took the pipe out of his mouth again. His slightly upturned duck-like beak twitched at the bottom of his long, horse-like face, and a glint seemed to shine behind his sunglasses.

"Looks like you really want to live." Jason Jody clicked his tongue a few times, made a strange expression for a while, and then looked down at my face with a half-smile. At the same time, I raised my face, which was swollen like a loaf of bread, and revealed a sinister smile.

"I haven't killed enough people yet," a cold, low voice came from my cracked lips, devoid of any emotion. The three pirates beside me, hearing me speak of killing so casually, immediately grew enraged and wanted to kill me quickly to avenge their fallen comrades.

"My bones are about to break. I need to land to ease the pain. Give me the best medical care, and twelve jewels the size of pigeon eggs as compensation for the unfortunate crew members who perished." With my last ounce of strength, I made this urgent request and feigned unconsciousness. In reality, my feigned unconsciousness actually made me truly faint.

When I awoke, I was lying in an iron cage—the second one in the ammunition depot, much smaller than the one that had previously held the Cang Gui. The marks on my wrists and ankles had been professionally bandaged with clean white gauze. Unexpectedly, there were needle marks on my left arm from an IV drip. Now, my mind was much clearer. The swelling on my face was still faintly visible, and my right brow was covered by a piece of white gauze, obscuring my entire face.

I tried to slowly sit up and reached for a small piece of bread and some fresh water placed outside the cage. These guys were suspicious of me, deliberately not letting me eat my fill, to prevent the captives from having enough strength to escape or resist.

Four or five pirates sat around the stove I had made, sharing the animal meat while warming themselves by the fire. They were silent and reserved, unlike the boisterous and noisy bandits. Seeing this, I guessed that the wooden basin contained animal blood that day. As long as the women were safe and well hidden in the woods, the situation wasn't beyond repair. So many pirates, once they discovered a large group of women, would surely lose their minds.

The captain of the Sea Demon, Jason Jody, was nowhere to be found. The cage around me was also carefully fortified, leaving no possibility of escape. I couldn't afford to have any thoughts of resistance now; it was a matter of life and death.

Later, the pirates covered me in the cage with a black cloth, and I felt like a thrush. They often moved things around the large ship, making a lot of noise. Although I couldn't see them, at least I could heal my wounds inside.

Now, besides the clothes on my body, all I had was my own flesh and the cold iron edge. It was pitch black all around; I couldn't see the time, nor did I know if it was day or night outside. I didn't know how many more days the women's food would last. I hoped these pirates would focus their energy on the munitions inside the large ship and not search the woods across the lake

. If the hidden women were exposed, Jason Jody would be the first to kill me. Several days passed before I was hoisted up by several pirates and transported by small boat to another large ship. I still couldn't see outside, but I knew I must be on the enemy's mother ship.

Around the sixth day, they finally removed the tarpaulin covering my cage. The surrounding light was dim; perhaps it was nighttime, and they were interrogating me in the dim light to protect my eyes.

A pirate wearing a tall hat sat about ten meters away in the shadows, his legs crossed, the pipe in his mouth glowing intermittently, the smoke like stars appearing and disappearing in the night sky.

Three burly men stood with their arms crossed behind the pirate captain, staring at me fiercely like wolves. I couldn't say much now, lest I cause unnecessary trouble. After a while, Jason Jody finally spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Chase, I'll ask you one more time, were you alone on the island before I came? Is this your last chance? Think carefully before you answer. Otherwise, I'll make you cut your own flesh piece by piece."

Jason Jody was so solemn today, his question so chilling, as if he were giving me a chance. After all, he was the pirate leader, and his words had to be respected. If I lied to him again, there was no way I could live.

But at the same time, his words also made my heart skip a beat. The enemy might have detected the heat source in the woods. Whether they had captured the women and brought them to the mother ship or not, I couldn't die because of fooling the enemy; that would mean all hope was lost.

I breathed heavily, inhaling the surrounding air. The scent of the three pirates who had approached me earlier hadn't spread much yet. "Hmph, hmph..." I deliberately took a deep breath, making myself look like I'd been suffocating under the canvas for too long and needed to breathe.

The lingering scents around me, like countless tiny crawling insects, rushed into my nostrils, seeping into the cortex of my brain's memory. Subconsciously, the faint scent of Chi Chun's body surfaced.

Those three pirates must have just been with Chi Chun; perhaps they raped her, or perhaps a fight broke out during their capture. Suddenly, the lights on all four walls blazed on, their beams blindingly bright.

My long, disheveled hair partially obscured my face, and to avoid angering my enemies, I quickly and frankly stated, "Before and after each murder, I make love to different women; it brings me luck. There are also women on this island and on the Canggui ship; they are not your enemies."

"Hmph..." Jason Jody chuckled coldly. He then gripped his pipe tightly and clapped his hands together. Less than two minutes later, four burly pirates appeared at the door, grabbing Chi Chun by the arms and dragging her inside, her hair disheveled.

I wanted to warn Chi Chun not to panic, but she didn't understand her situation and struggled desperately, trying to lunge at me. This caused her ample breasts to sway from side to side, inadvertently revealing their sexual allure.

"These women were kidnapped by Cang Gui, solely for his men's amusement. Almost every woman has been touched without protection by more than ten men. Whether they carry hidden germs or even viruses, I think you, as their leader, should know very well."

Having said this, Chi Chun suddenly stopped struggling. She seemed to understand in an instant that guns and brute force were futile; she had to use her wits to protect herself to the greatest extent possible. But at the same time, she cast a resentful glance at me, understanding why I had always avoided her soft, moist, mysterious organs.

Chapter 198: Burning in the Iron Cage

"Hmph, Zhui Ma, you underestimate my brothers on the Sea Demon. They do kill and rob, but they don't rape other men's wives and daughters; that's my prohibition. However, I can still make these women wish they were dead."

Chi Chun sobbed. She was adept at seizing opportunities; after hearing Jason Jody's words, she immediately feigned a pitiful weakness to gain the sympathy of these bandits.

“Indeed, you’ve killed many of my long-trained members. This operation isn’t just about seizing Cang Gui’s weapons; it’s also about training them, putting them to real combat. Through this test, I’ll select an outstanding assassin to go to Africa and help my friend deal with some tricky problems.”

Jason Jody paused, then slowly puffed on his pipe. After hearing his words, I understood everything. No wonder Jason Jody wasn’t interested in the twelve gems I mentioned.

It turned out that when he captured me, he had already planned everything. Now that he’d captured Chi Chun and the others, he had essentially seized control of my killing machine.

I felt like a performing bear in a circus, having escaped that suffocating and oppressive life for only a few days, only to be tossed back into the vortex by the wheel of fate. If I refused, it wouldn’t just be my own life that was lost.

“Your friend’s mission definitely involves politics. Any assassin who undertakes it faces a near-certain death,” I said coldly, sitting in the sturdy cage. “Yes, I’ve already lost two excellent assassins, but this is an opportunity for you. If you complete the mission, not only will you live, but those women will also be unharmed. Otherwise, this woman in front of you…”

I hurriedly interrupted Jason Jody, afraid she would frighten Chi Chun. Because I knew that some methods of torturing women could scare them half to death just by describing them.

“Jason, from the moment I clashed with your men, I sensed a certain quality in them. If it weren’t for the fact that we were in the open, killing either of them would be extremely dangerous. Although you are a pirate, you are not a rabble like Cang Gui; they are just thugs who know how to use guns. But you soldiers have brought me back to the battlefield.”

“Hmph, Chase Horse, your psychological tactics are quite good. It seems that Thailand has invested a lot in training you. Don’t play these tricks on me. I will have my men keep a separate watch over your lovers, and the other women will not be harmed. Forty women are my bargaining chip with you. Your only chance to win is to complete the mission.”

I couldn’t completely believe Jason Jody’s words, but now I was at their mercy and had no choice but to believe him.

“I’m a desperate assassin. There are many places on this earth that won’t accept me. Southeast Asia has been hunting me down, trying to use me as a tool to cover up my scandals. I’ve lived a wandering life, without any ties. Perhaps this is just a characteristic of an assassin. But I have one condition. From the first day I started killing, you’re the first person for whom I’ve ever made a condition.”

Jason Jody leaned forward slightly after hearing my words, then slowly took a few puffs of his pipe before finally uttering a soft “hmm.” I let out a long sigh, feigning relief and abandoning all thoughts of scheming.

“As long as I complete the mission, whether I return alive or not, please treat these women well and give them a good home. If I’m lucky enough to come back alive, you must let me join your organization to circumvent international law. There aren’t many places left for me on land.”

“Hahaha, if you can come back alive, I might actually be willing to keep you.” Jason Jody pulled the pipe out of his mouth and laughed triumphantly for the first time. His long chin, like it was made of wax, seemed about to melt and droop.

"I need a bigger cage, one where I can move around properly. If I stay confined like this, I'll probably grow fat." Jason Jody, upon hearing my words, immediately lowered his long chin, waved his hand holding his pipe, and signaled his men to make the arrangements.

"You should focus on your recovery and training. If you need women, just tell my men, and they'll arrange it according to your wishes." Jason Jody finished speaking and turned to leave the large cabin.

I was like a wild beast, locked in an iron cage three meters high and five meters wide, which they probably used to hold hostages. Every day, besides eating, I climbed all over the walls and the top of the cage, trying to regenerate my muscles in a short time, returning them to their peak condition from my mercenary days.

Although I hadn't visited the Sea Demon, I could feel the intense warmth from this spacious warehouse. My bare back glistened with oily sweat, and my bulging muscles were clearly visible. It was evident that the interior was not only luxuriously decorated but also technologically advanced.

On this mothership, there are countless skilled assassins, yet Jason Jody only values my lethality, unmoved by the wealth. It's easy to imagine how arduous the mission will be; once I reach Africa, returning alive will be incredibly difficult. Whether

the promises he made to me, and the promises I made to him, will be empty promises remains to be seen. During my time in captivity, I saw Yi Liang and Lu Ya. Jason Jody is cunning; he only allowed me to see them from afar, forbidding me to approach and speak, to prevent any communication.

Half a month has passed. The women are safe, but I am about to leave them. In these days, I've only had intimate contact with Chi Chun. Each time, she gives herself to me frantically, stimulating me to desperately enjoy her body, filled with the sorrow of parting.

Whenever I kiss Chi Chun's lips, I inadvertently catch a tear sliding down her cheek. She told me I must survive; if I fail the mission, I should give up, escape to the ends of the earth, and never return.

I gently pulled Chi Chun into my arms, letting her soft, full breasts press against my firm chest. Her fragrant arms clung tightly to my neck, as if afraid of slipping away, greedily clinging her snow-white naked body to my flesh.

In truth, once I entered Africa, escaping from the enemy's grasp, even turning the tables, would be effortless. But Jason Jody's sharp eyes immediately discerned the inseparable love I shared with the three women. Therefore, he was absolutely certain of his control over me.

Before leaving, Jason Jody finally let me say goodbye to Yi Liang and Lu Ya; both girls' eyes were swollen from crying. I put my arms around their shoulders and whispered, "If I don't come back, it means I failed my mission and ran away. You two need to find a pirate man, try to become his wife, and use love to numb the enemy until I return to rescue you."

As I said these words, my heart ached. In reality, if I escaped, Jason Jody would immediately torture these women to death. My biggest worry is that if I die in Africa after completing the mission, will the two girls be able to survive because of what I said? Otherwise, their spirits will collapse, and their bodies will break down along with them.

Chapter 199: The Archer Heading to Africa

Jason Jody had his private doctor give me a final check-up. Finding me alright, Jason seemed even happier than I was. Of course, he was happy to have such a good killing machine.

That night, a light rain began to fall at sea. For the first time, I was allowed to leave the iron cage and go for a walk on the deck. It turned out that the Sea Demon had been hidden behind the mountains surrounding the basin, a perfect harbor with vertical cliffs, where even the largest ship could be brought close like a goat.

At that moment, the sea wasn't too rough; the water still rippled gently. The cold raindrops, like the tears of a woman who had lost her warmth, constantly pelted my bare shoulders. The sky

was high and the darkness boundless. Looking up, I felt no sense of freedom; my mood was incredibly oppressive. Directly in front of me, at the edge of this vast sea, lay the African Plate, the destination I was to reach the next morning.

The wind grew stronger, the moisture it carried whipping across my skin like countless fine needles, a stinging, itchy sensation that was indescribably uncomfortable.

I didn't stay long before signaling to the two pirates behind me to lead me back to the cabin and lock me back in the sturdy iron cage. Because of the darkness, the mothership's shape wasn't clearly visible; I could only sense its immense size. Cang Gui's large ship was at most less than two-thirds its size.

In this world, evil things always disguise themselves well, like a sniper disguised as grass or trees. Though relatively still, they can fire deadly bullets, killing their complacent and overconfident targets.

The Sea Demon mothership looked like a high-class passenger liner, especially the deck equipment—the anti-aircraft guns and machine guns were perfectly concealed. Unless engaged in combat, they would be completely undetectable. Moreover, once the enemy's attention was focused on the surface, the nuclear submarine hidden deep beneath the sea would circle around to attack from behind.

That night, I thought about many things, only dozing off for a little over an hour just before dawn. In the morning, I ate a piece of beef and a loaf of bread before being handcuffed and escorted onto the deck by four pirates.

The wind and rain had raged all night; lying in the iron cage, I could feel their fury. The air on the deck was particularly cold now, the raindrops so fine they were indistinguishable from the wind, adding to the sorrow of our separation.

Jason Jody allowed Yi Liang and Lu Ya to come out and see me off; it wasn't out of sentimentality, but simply to make sure I understood the leverage he held. Chi Chun held the two girls' hands, subtly indicating they shouldn't be impulsive.

The three women, tears streaming down their faces, watched me board a small boat. Thirty meters away, a small nuclear submarine had already surfaced, waiting to receive me. As the yacht's engine started, I suddenly withdrew my gaze from the three women and spoke in a low voice to Jason Jody standing on the deck.

"After I leave, please treat these women well, especially these three in front of me. If they are harmed, I'll chase after you and kill you all, even if I have to carry a surfboard." Jason Jody lowered his head slightly, staring at me for a long time through his dark glasses, before finally curving his lips into a half-smile.

"Hmph, why are you suddenly acting like a woman? You should focus on completing the mission, preferably coming back alive, otherwise, so many women will give me a headache." After saying that, Jason Jody laughed loudly, but I could sense that there was no real smile in his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. This guy was pleased to have further confirmed his control over me.

By the time I boarded the reddish-brown submarine, standing on the damp hull, waving to the three women in the distance, they were already sobbing uncontrollably and had to be supported by the pirates beside them. I gritted my teeth and rushed into the narrow entrance of the nuclear submarine, cutting off this tangled mess of worries so that I could fully immerse myself in the unknown mission.

Jason Jody is now completely under control, but he's very cautious and hasn't revealed anything about the mission to me yet. I don't need to ask; they'll tell me once we reach the African continent.

Suddenly entering the small, narrow nuclear submarine from the spacious mothership, the Sea Demon, felt much more crowded, and it took some getting used to. Standing in the middle of the passageway was the first mate, a tall, white man who, as if welcoming me back, led the crew in applause. These pirates responsible for underwater attacks hadn't fought me before, so their hatred for me wasn't as intense as that of the pirates on the larger ship.

These crew members were all in professional naval uniforms; it was unclear which country they belonged to, or perhaps these were specially made uniforms for the Sea Demon. On the small nuclear submarine, there were two cooks, one a slightly overweight Black man, and the other a red-skinned Native American.

"Hey, look, our hero has been born again! Come on, try a slice of the Italian pizza I made especially for you. And take a big gulp of this warm beer, it'll make you forget all your worries for a while." The chef, with his dark, shiny skin and build similar to mine, was muscular but had a big appetite. When he spoke and smiled, his teeth were dazzlingly white.

Meanwhile, the Indian man with a cigarette butt stubbed out was squinting from the rising smoke. He blinked twice, his eyes darting away from me, until tears were about to spill.

"Is it him? Chase Horse, the mercenary wanted in Southeast Asia, who single-handedly wiped out the entire Cang Gui team and sniped ten top snipers on the Sea Demon. This guy is terrifying, we need to..."

A rustling commotion came from behind. Several boys who looked to be only twenty years old were whispering among themselves. They must have just joined the nuclear submarine, and their discipline was far less strict than that of the pirates on the mother ship.

The first mate of the small submarine, about forty years old, had a pair of bright blue eyes full of friendliness and sincerity, and a straight nose that still retained the handsome features of his youth. I had a premonition that they might be the friends Jason Jody had mentioned.

"Coo-coo-coo-ding, coo-coo-coo-ding..." I could hear the submarine beginning to submerge, searching for the right depth to accelerate. The distance between me and the three women grew with my growing concern, and I followed these guys as they descended into the deep, dark seabed.

Thinking of how the three women had cried earlier, my heart ached terribly. The beer and pizza in front of me, though delicious, held no appeal for me.

"Alright, my hero, stop grieving over your women. I think you'll be back with them soon. Come on, cheer up, once we get to Africa, there won't be much time for this leisure."

The black cook shrugged and shook his head in front of me. His comical manner was like that of a circus clown, actively trying to get the silent audience to laugh.

I now understand very well that to make my time at sea more comfortable, I cannot ignore their kindness, regardless of what lies behind it. The safety of the three women is directly related to my every move. The black cook is right; if I remain so depressed and dejected, it will be difficult to adjust my mindset for combat once we reach the African continent.

Chapter 200: The Living Fossil of the Earth's Core

The small nuclear submarine sailed underwater for a day, and I spent the whole day alone in a hammock. During this time, apart from the Indian man bringing me a box of tobacco, there was only the black cook's endless small talk.

His name was Ronaldo, from North America. The crew on the submarine called him by his nickname: Kodo Beast, describing his large but muscular build. Another reason was to describe his comical nature; his body language was very humorous when he spoke. Sometimes, I really think he should go to a circus; perhaps that would suit him better than this submarine.

These two cooks seem to have little understanding of the profession of a sniper. If one drinks or smokes before a battle, their vision and physical strength will decline, especially at dusk, when objects become extremely blurry. Many of the snipers brought by Cang Gui failed to notice this, or rather, they were easily swayed by their physical needs.

Around 10:10 PM, the mini-submarine entered international waters frequently traversed by various navies. The blue-eyed first mate bent down and peered in, reminding us to keep quiet. Du Mo, having finished recounting his past anecdotes, grinned, revealing his pearly white teeth, and clutched his stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

The first mate's sudden appearance made him immediately realize something. He quickly dropped his joking demeanor and stood up straight. This first mate, whose eyes always held a smile, seemed to have become more amiable only because of my arrival. He glanced at everyone and then walked away cleanly and efficiently.

Dumo stopped laughing; his expression immediately turned serious. "Mr. Zhuima, the first mate's words are very important. Our submarine has no communication codes on the high seas. To evade sonar detection, we can only run at minimum power. We need to sneak past their areas while they're dozing off."

As soon as he finished speaking, Dumo left. I knew he wouldn't be coming back today. Except for the pilot, every sailor wisely went to their bunk beds, entrusting their lives to experience and luck.

I lay in my hammock, which resembled a fishing net, looking up at the ceiling. Hundreds of meters above, the dark sea stretched out, and through the thick submarine walls, I could clearly hear the heartbeat of the ocean. I imagined there must be many well-trained military cruisers that would relentlessly pursue this submarine once it was detected, dropping hundreds of depth charges – no joke.

After a night of chaotic dreams, I finally made it to dawn. The images of Yi Liang, Lu Ya, and Chi Chun lingered in my mind, and even my strong will couldn't dispel them. This kind of longing was something I'd never experienced before.

"Hey, hero, did you sleep well last night? Look what delicious breakfast I made for you." The guy named Du Mo reappeared, squatting down with a delicate plate. His white chef's hat, tilted at an angle, made his round, dark face look even more comical. For some reason, I gradually developed a liking for this guy.

"Oh, I slept very well. Thank you for the pastries you've made these pastries over the past few days; this is probably the most delicious food I've eaten since arriving on the island." I sat up slightly from the swaying hammock to accept the food he offered.

"Haha, really? Those guys complain all day that my cooking isn't to their liking. Looks like only you know how to appreciate good food." He laughed again, revealing his gleaming white teeth.

Taking a bite of Dumo's pastry, I suddenly asked, "Where's the submarine? How many days until we reach the African coast?" Dumo slapped his shiny black forehead a few times with his chubby hands, deep in thought for a moment before replying,

"We still need to find a way to enter the high seas off Madagascar, land on Réunion Island first, make preparations for the battle, and then we can head to Mauritius." Dumo's words immediately alerted me; it was a land of constant conflict, a place rife with intricate webs of vested interests.

Mauritius is a volcanic island surrounded by coral reefs, its landscape incredibly diverse. The coastline is a narrow plain, while the central region is a high-altitude mountainous region with several mountain ranges and isolated peaks, making the terrain quite rugged.

This small island was cultivated and developed by slaves and indentured laborers from the Americas, Africa, and India. Of course, some Chinese also crossed the ocean to Mauritius to survive. Their descendants live on the island, people of different skin colors, speaking different languages, with their own religious beliefs, and inheriting their own cultural traditions.

It is precisely in such a place that political and religious conflicts are extremely sensitive and intensified. I pondered for a long time before being interrupted by Dumo's sudden question. "You truly are a hero. No wonder the captain of the Sea Demon instructed our first mate not to reveal any information about your mission before landing in Africa. However, I will do my best to ensure that you can complete your mission and return alive."

Dumo's words were sincere. For some reason, he was exceptionally friendly to me, and I couldn't see any self-interest behind this friendliness.

The name Kodo Beast was indeed very fitting for Dumo. In the middle of his round, chubby face was a round, chubby nose. Every time he breathed, his nostrils opened wide, like a rhinoceros roaring.

"Dumo, what are the chances of me returning alive from this mission?" I ate my pastries expressionlessly, my eyes fixed on the dilapidated floor of the cabin. Dumo knew my question was serious. He could say he didn't know, but he couldn't give me a vague answer.

"Mr. Chase, I must tell you the truth. The mission is extremely difficult. The two previous assassins only lasted five days in Mauritius before they both perished. As for your abilities, I think you're superior to them, but I can't guarantee I can escort you to the final destination, Madagascar. The final showdown is there. If you return alive to this submarine from there, your mission will be complete."

Dumo's mood became much heavier after he finished speaking. He had accompanied the assassins on the previous two missions. Jason Jody's friend relayed the mission instructions, first to him, and then to the assassins around him. This way, even if the assassins died or were captured, the core of the plan wouldn't be leaked. The pastries were

a bit dry. After eating them, I drank some water and lay back down in the hammock. This small submarine was indeed incredibly cramped. Even after sleeping there for two days, I still couldn't get used to the environment.

To avoid this suffocating feeling, I tried not to get up or move around, staying hundreds of meters below the surface. Every now and then

, I could hear the hull creaking and groaning from the immense water pressure, making me feel like a living fossil from the Earth's core. Having successfully crossed the dangerous high seas, the small nuclear submarine's speed returned to maximum. Dumo told me we would surface at midnight the next night, then I could finally breathe some fresh air.

Chapter 201: A Smuggling Trip in the Rain

. The small hammock was like a sleeping basket, swaying gently as I drifted through my dreams. I had originally thought we would land at the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa, but Dumo's words kept me thinking all night. "Hey, Mr. Zhuima, our submarine is almost at the Mozambique Channel. Are you really willing to sleep in this tiny compartment until dawn?"

This black cook always appeared before I saw him; he understood the characteristics of assassins. If he suddenly appeared and got very close to me while I was sleeping or unintentionally, the chances of being attacked were very high. Therefore, his caution made me think he was a wise and experienced fellow.

“Oh, the only thing that can move me more than your pastries right now is fresh air.” I rubbed my sleepy eyes, looking at Dumo’s delighted face. His dazzlingly white teeth always contrasted beautifully with his dark, shiny cheeks. “I’ll get you a mirror and a comb. When we get to the deck and breathe some fresh air, the sea breeze won’t mess up your hair, haha.” With that, Dumo excitedly ran off.

I was increasingly puzzled by him. Perhaps he knew the chances of survival were almost zero, so he wanted to make up for it while I was still alive. Dumo quickly brought back a mirror and a comb, and with the same enthusiasm he had for making pastries, he began to comb my long hair.

In the tattered mirror, the scratches on my face hadn’t completely faded. These scars reminded me of running through the reeds, the dry reeds stinging my cheeks as I dashed past.

Dumo carefully combed my hair, his chubby, dark hands revealing more scars the moment they lifted my long hair. His playful laughter gradually subsided, as if he realized the suffering I had endured. It was a man's burden, and Dumo, being a man too, must have loved a woman once, so he could understand.

"What color does Mr. Chase like? I'll find a hair tie to tie your long hair up; it'll be much easier when you go out for the sea breeze later." Dumo's thoughtfulness pulled me back from my thoughts of the basin valley. I was blank for a moment before replying,

"Oh, then red it is." I said absentmindedly, and Dumo hurriedly reached into his waistband pocket, grabbed a bunch of colorful hair ties, and quickly picked out a red one, quite pleased with his preparation.

After tying my long ponytail, Dumo held up another mirror and stood behind me so I could see it. "Thank you, Dumo. I think it's time to get some exercise." Just as I finished speaking, the blue-eyed first mate walked in.

"The submarine has surfaced. Everyone, hurry up and get some fresh air." My heart immediately surged with excitement. Although I was currently separated from Yi Liang and the others by half a sphere, just going up and looking in their direction would bring me immense comfort.

This deep-sea voyage had left many crew members feeling restless, and they rushed to the surface early to let the fresh sea breeze cleanse their lungs of dust. When I stepped out of the submarine, it wasn't the starry night sky I'd imagined; instead, a light, cold rain pelted each sailor in their shiny raincoats.

"Here, Mr. Chase, these are your and my diving suits. The submarine is currently located at the southeastern corner of Réunion Island. We can't get any closer. If we enter within twelve nautical miles of the island, the French patrol submarines will sink us without hesitation.

" Dumo's words shocked me. He wanted to sneak onto Réunion Island with me under the cover of darkness. This chubby, dark-skinned man winked at me provocatively, as if to say, "How about it? Didn't expect that, did you? The Kodo's physical abilities are extraordinary."

Gazing at the pitch-black sea where no land could be seen, I unconsciously swallowed. This incredibly difficult illegal entry was unimaginable for most people, and even I was trying it for the first time under Dumo's guidance. "Attention! Salute! "

the blue-eyed first mate suddenly shouted from the cabin door. Immediately, the sailors in their gleaming raincoats formed a guard of honor and fired shots into the dark night sky. This abrupt action left me somewhat bewildered. Dumo grinned at me, patted his round belly, and saluted the blue-eyed first mate.

During the journey to the African coast, the first mate and the crew had treated me very well, even if they were using me, they were still quite respectful of my dignity and freedom. I returned the salute with Dumo, thanking him for his help over the past few days. We were treated to a welcome meal.

Shouldering some essentials, Dumo and I each grabbed a surfboard and plunged into the icy, black sea like two dolphins leaping from the water. A highly elastic nylon rope was tied around our waists; if we were caught in a giant wave and trapped underneath, we could support each other.

At that moment, I began to realize Dumo's wisdom. To accomplish great things together, we needed brotherly sincerity, mutual support in crucial moments, and the ability to overcome any obstacle. His previous efforts to cultivate a friendly relationship with me were likely for this reason.

"Mr. Chase Horse, let's paddle for a while to warm up," he said, like a fat hippopotamus, vigorously kicking his surfboard while actively engaging me in conversation.

"Dumo, do you know what I envy most about you right now?" Hearing me call out, he quickly tilted his left ear towards me. "Haha, you envy my cooking skills? Or my dark, shiny skin?" I couldn't help but laugh at Dumo's words.

"Neither, it's your fat." "I yelled again, then straightened my head and focused intently on swimming forward. The seawater in the cold, rainy night felt like countless ice shards, my body felt like it was being tossed around in a pile of steel needles, a stinging pain I couldn't describe.

'If you get too cold, you can take out a piece of high-calorie chocolate. It contains a lot of the blood and sweat of black people and will provide you with plenty of energy. Hehe, if you get tired of swimming, I'll drag you along.'" "

Dumo's words were sincere, but the rain was pouring down relentlessly, and waves as high as the palace walls crashed down intermittently, like torturing a pair of grasshoppers who depended on each other for survival. How could I let this chubby Dumo take such a risk?

Actually, if I changed my mind now, I could have Dumo drag me forward, and when he was mostly exhausted, I could sneak up and kill him. Because before we went into the sea, we both carried emergency daggers. If one of us died, we could cut the rope in time; if we were attacked by a small shark, we could stab it a few times for self-defense.

After swimming for about two hours, Dumo was also a bit exhausted, complaining to the drizzle falling from the black sky: "Damn it, my fat is almost frozen cheese. If I could have a warm bed now, and find a soft and gentle beauty to hug for a while, I wouldn't trade it for the presidency." "

After Dumo finished speaking, he didn't laugh out loud; I knew he had long since lost the strength to laugh. We fell silent again, meticulously paddling forward. In fact, the blue-eyed first mate had already steered the small nuclear submarine into territorial waters prohibited by international law, because as the sun rose, land gradually appeared at the edge of the ocean ahead. From that small, distant silhouette, Dumo and I knew with ecstatic joy that it was Reunion Island, the first stop on this mission.

Chapter 202: The Wise Dumo

Relying on the surfboard under his chest, Dumo and I paddled for a day, and as dusk approached, we finally saw the island's shore. The shape of Reunion Island is difficult to describe with geometric shapes. If the sea were a chopping board, it would be a piece of pork cut arbitrarily, neither square nor round.

Dumo's dark, chubby face looked somewhat ashen, and by looking at him, I could also realize that my complexion was poor. After all, we weren't walking on land; we needed to overcome many difficulties. The threat of giant waves to life was far greater than being locked onto by sharks."

“Mr. Zhuima, let’s land at the southeast corner. It’s a barren mountainous area with crisscrossing ravines, dense palm forests, and grasslands. We can find a place to hide from insects and beasts, rest for a few hours, and then we can cross the mountain and enter the Black plantation.”

Dumo’s words greatly encouraged our exhausted bodies and minds. I gave him a gesture of agreement and continued paddling towards the shore, hoping to find a warm rock soon so we could sleep soundly for a few hours.

The moment my feet touched the soft sand, I recalled the first time I carried Chi Chun, leading Lu Ya and Yi Liang to this deserted island. Dumo’s ashen face showed a hint of excitement. Seeing that we were about to reach the shore, he used his last bit of strength to speak. “Oh, I really want to just lie on the beach and sleep. What about you?” I

was so exhausted I could barely breathe, my face grim. I didn't even look Dumo in the eye, just weakly shook my head at him. If I lay down on the beach to sleep until we found a safe place to rest, it would probably be dawn when I opened my eyes again. Besides, there was no campfire at night; I didn't know what I'd be eaten by in the middle of the night.

Dumo and I each had a dagger, but no firearms for self-defense, which made me uneasy. Wading through chest-deep water, we supported each other like roly-poly toys, our ankles barely breaking the surface before we both collapsed onto the soft, damp sand. On the beach. The moment our bodies surrendered to the earth, both Dumo and I, exhausted, simultaneously broke into relieved smiles. Nothing in the world felt more comfortable than lying there like this.

Despite the many giant waves we'd encountered along the way, my long hair was still firmly tied back with a red rubber band. I really had to thank Dumo; without his thoughtfulness, I would have had a very difficult time breathing on the undulating waves.

We gasped for breath, resting for a full twenty minutes before we regained the strength to speak. "Dumo, it's getting dark soon. We need to hurry and find a safe place to stay." His thick, dark lips were turned up sharply, like two sausages hanging outside his white teeth, glistening with oil.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, you haven't added any burden to my journey at all. I really have to thank you." "After saying that, the fat, dark-skinned guy revealed a look of pure enjoyment. I think the first two assassins who landed on the African coast also smuggled themselves onto the island in the same way, and they slowed Dumo down quite a bit along the way.

"Alright, get up. We need to hurry. There might be lions or hyena packs in this tropical rainforest. We'd better get through as quickly as possible and avoid getting scratched by branches or breaking our skin."

My words immediately made Dumo realize something. He sat up abruptly and raised his thick, dark hand to slap his shiny forehead twice. "My God, I completely forgot we didn't bring any guns. Against those beast kings of the African savanna, even the sharpest dagger is no better than an antelope's horns." "

As Dumo spoke, I had already looked around. The mountains in this area rose abruptly from between the forests and grasslands, and most of them were active volcanoes, like chimneys piercing the clouds, or the nostrils of a sleeping fire unicorn, spewing billowing hot dust that seeped into the lava-colored sunset clouds. It was about to get dark, and the cool sea breeze carrying a fishy smell foreshadowed an imminent rain.

We quickly took off our swimsuits and buried any unnecessary items in the sand to avoid leaving any traces of our smuggling. The forests and grasslands grew intertwined, stretching endlessly along the beach, making it difficult to discern the shortcut leading to the hillside."

The light was too dim to discern the density of the forest, and even Dumo, who had been twice before, was unsure. "Let's run along the beach, and before we choose a path, don't get too close to the woods," I said, putting my drained military boots back on.

We ran 5.5 kilometers along the narrow coastline. The waves had grown much larger, like the claws of the ocean trying to drag us back into the deep sea.

After running another three kilometers, we finally saw a small strip of palm trees, about 25 meters wide, extending more than 2,000 meters into the forest. This strip was covered with thick, lush grasses; **if you fell in it, even a tall person wouldn't be able to see.** Dumo and I couldn't see the color of the grass, only imagining it to be either yellow or green.

Meanwhile, we couldn't be sure if any lions were lurking in the middle of this narrow strip of tropical grassland, hunting at night. If we were lucky, we wouldn't see any; if we were unlucky, we might encounter a pride. This made me a little horrified and angry, so I turned to look at Dumo, whose features were indistinct, and said, "Jason Jody's mission is for us to travel thousands of miles to Africa to feed the lions? Crossing this terrain without even a pistol is like being naked lambs."

Dumo was also terrified at this point. He gripped his dagger tightly in his left hand, constantly and cautiously looking around. After a long while, he finally had time to answer my complaint.

"You're right. We can't smuggle ourselves across carrying heavy weapons. And more importantly, the captain of the Sea Demon is afraid that if you get your hands on any weapons, you'll turn around and kill your way back to the mother ship. Because you're the most legendary and bizarre assassin he's hired, I haven't had the chance to carry a gun before landing on the African coast."

After hearing Dumo's words, I was furious and said angrily in a low voice, "Bastard, bastard, he's a complete bastard. He wants me to help him deal with his thorny political problems, but he won't give me the necessary weapons. It's clearly a case of the government forcing the people to rebel. If I really turn around and kill my way back, it will definitely be for this reason."

Dumo saw that I was a little agitated and quickly tried to calm me down. “Yes, I also want to go back and kick his ass.”

He paused, and seeing that I had calmed down a bit, he added as necessary, “I know you’re worried about the girls on the mother ship, afraid that anything might happen to you. I’m the same as you, worried about a girl I love. If this mission fails, she might end up as a prostitute in Madagascar.”

These words startled me. Could it be that Dumo, like me, was coerced into carrying out such a high-risk mission? In political assassinations, once a bullet hits a political figure, it’s almost impossible to escape the scene and leave the country safely; an even more dangerous possibility is that the person who hired the assassin would usually kill them immediately after the mission is accomplished.

Chapter 203: Prey Under the Lightning

“From you, I see a man’s responsibility. I used to feel conflicted and isolated. I even thought that I might die by someone’s gun someday, so I should live each day to the fullest and enjoy the happiness of each day, instead of foolishly being infatuated with a woman.”

After Dumo finished speaking, he sighed deeply. I didn’t speak, still gripping the dagger tightly, staring intently into the darkness. The sea breeze rustled across the tropical savanna, creating a sense of impending doom.

"But since seeing you, I've found the courage to believe in love. For a man to let the woman he loves become a prostitute is undoubtedly a disgrace, no different from a coward who clings to life. You are a cold-blooded and ruthless killer, yet also a man of deep feeling and loyalty; you've shown me a hero's example."

This chubby, dark-skinned fellow, nicknamed Kodo the Beast, rambled on and on, forgetting the perilous environment he was in. "Alright, Dumo, if you keep babbling on, the lion might really jump out and bite your ass."

Reminded by me, Dumo immediately realized his lapse in decorum. His dark, shiny face blended completely into the night; no one could see if he blushed. “Dumo, I have a feeling there are a lot of small animals in this grass. The chances of encountering hyenas or lions are much higher than when we first came in. If they pounce on you from the front, you need to cover their throats with your left arm and stab their bellies with your right dagger.”

“Okay, it’s pitch black all around, and I can’t see any landmarks. I’m really lost right now. Just lead me.” I had already noticed that Dumo was lost. His honesty reminded me of my friend who committed suicide by shooting himself in the Thai mercenary camp. He was somewhat similar to Dumo, but his skin color was different; he had the same tough yellow skin as me.

This black cook had said that he would do his best to keep me alive to complete the mission. That really appealed to me, so I had to find a way to keep Dumo alive, increase my own chances of survival, and rescue Yiliang and the others from the Sea Demon as soon as possible. That was my goal for this trip.

Dumo and I were wearing thick camouflage pants, and our military boots were made of cowhide, which protected our skin from being cut by the dry grass. If we were to emit even a trace of blood at this moment, it would be no coincidence that we would attract attacks from lions, leopards, or hyenas.

"Woo-eng, woo-eng..." At the edge of the grassland ahead, there was a high mountain. Dumo and I were about to go up there to find a place to spend the night, just enough to make do until dawn before figuring out what to do next. But just then, we heard the groans of a wild boar or wildebeest about thirty meters away.

Dumo quickly moved back to back with me, raising his sharp dagger in a defensive stance. "Did you hear that? There's a wild animal ahead," he whispered cautiously. "Shh," I quickly signaled Dumo to be quiet, otherwise it would interfere with my hearing.

"It's probably a zebra or wildebeest, being attacked by a lion or leopard." My judgment startled Dumo, who hurriedly said, "Let's hurry back and wait on the beach until dawn."

"No, the storm will arrive in another hour. If we get soaked until dawn, we'll be sick the next day and won't be able to get up and walk. The wild animal ahead has already caught its prey and is now busy eating and drinking. Let's try to enter the palm forest and try to go around it." "Look, the hillside is just over there."

I'd barely finished speaking when the tropical rain began to pelt down again. A few rapid rumbles of thunder followed, and a forked bolt of lightning, like the roots of an old tree, tore through the night, lashing down above the crater.

Dumo bent his plump back and crouched down with me, running into the woods. The rain came just in time, masking our scent and helping us avoid attacks from large predators.

"Once we get around the center of the predator's attack, you have to run with me to the hillside as fast as you can. There we can find a crevice, block the entrance with a large rock, and then sleep peacefully until dawn." "

In the palm grove, every plant is of varying height. The leaves on the taller ones block out the sun, while the leaves on the lower ones act like camouflage over traps; if you're not careful, you can easily have your shoes pierced by the sharp thorns underneath.

Walking in the palm grove is awkward. The broadswords we used to use might have been lost on the Canggui's large ship, but now, Dumo and I had to rely on our short daggers, cutting through every vine that entangled us like vegetables.

Far behind us, the wind from the distant sea grew stronger. The nearly ten-meter-tall coconut trees, like the necks of thunder dragons protruding from the water, swayed rapidly with the rhythm of the wind and rain. If a coconut weighing eight or nine pounds were to fall and happen to hit us on the head, it could very well be fatal.

The wind at sea... " The rain, with its significant temperature difference from the grassland, caused the water droplets sliding densely from the tall palm leaves to fall like ice cubes onto Dumo and my necks. Dumo and I stealthily made our way through the woods, the distant volcano crater flashing in the blink of an eye during lightning strikes.

Through a particularly dazzling flash of lightning, I saw four lionesses tearing at the flesh of a zebra. Their brown-yellow manes, their eyes gleaming with a glassy blue light, their three-lobed lips smeared with sticky blood, and they occasionally licked scraps of flesh from their whiskers with their tongues.

Seven or eight conspicuously spotted hyenas, as if desperate to urinate, circled around, tails between their legs, too afraid to approach. Faced with four powerful lionesses, these hyenas could only wait for the scraps.

If only one lioness were gnawing on the fat meat, the pack of hyenas would likely pounce and scramble for it. It seemed that by the time the four lionesses were full, the zebra would be nothing more than a skeleton. The seven or eight hyenas, not much smaller than the lionesses, could easily overpower the four lions if they worked together. But species have their natural balance, and the title of king of the savanna naturally reflects this balance among all beasts.

The lightning illuminated this scene of the survival of the fittest, and also revealed Dumo and me, who had just emerged from the woods. The four lionesses, chewing on their fresh meat, paid no heed to Dumo and my presence, but the seven or eight spotted hyenas, baring their teeth and arching their black manes, drool dripped from their mouths.

Clearly, these hyenas knew that waiting for the lions to finish them off was pointless; when they spotted Dumo and me, their eyes lit up, and they began to growl at each other. I could sense that they were conspiring to ambush us. Faced with the sudden, overwhelming murderous intent, I yelled, "Run!" and grabbed Dumo's arm, fleeing for our lives towards the hilltop.

The dry, wild grass was soaked by the rain, and our heavy military boots clattered as we ran across it. "Dumo, run like you're hopping, like you're hurdling, otherwise you won't be fast enough, and the hyenas will bite your Achilles tendons."

After hearing my words, Dumo immediately adjusted his running posture, his stubbornness resembling that of a plump old woman from the countryside learning ballet for the first time. Although I couldn't see his dark, chubby face, I could imagine the terror reflected in his rolled-up whites. "I hate fat, I hate fat..." Dumo complained about his slow pace as I dragged him along, jumping and running.

Actually, it wasn't Dumo's fault. My running speed was honed through escaping gunfire. It was difficult for Dumo to keep up with my speed; even a cheetah, if truly angered, could be chased down and have its hind legs severed with a single blow.

Chapter 204: The Ambush Under the Palm Trees

"Boom!" A blinding flash of lightning ripped through the night sky, followed by a dense rumble of thunder. At the same time, I pulled Dumo along, gradually running out of the palm grove's embrace. The fleeting flash of lightning illuminated the damp, dark earth for a moment, revealing a boundless grassland before us.

"Oh! My God, how did such a vast tropical grassland suddenly appear? We've only just set foot in Africa, and God hasn't even given us a chance to breathe." Raindrops began to fall heavily, and the sea breeze swept through the palm grove's ventilation shaft—the twenty-five-meter-wide patch of grass—blowing into the vast tropical grassland. Dumo and my clothes were quickly soaked through, and whenever a strong wind blew, they clung to our backs like the pockets of a blower, sometimes bulging and billowing.

The rain-soaked reeds swayed and undulated in the wind. Seven or eight hyenas, having completely abandoned the zebra scraps under the jaws of the four lionesses, spread out to the left and right, leaping and darting through the grass, their eyes fixed on Dumo and me.

"Awooo, awooo..." The wind and rain in the darkness, like the claws of a demon, swirled across the seemingly endless grassland, while the hyenas' pursuit behind us was relentless. Dumo's earlier surprise also alarmed me. It seemed that while we were paddling on the sea with our surfboards, we had been pushed off course by a giant wave, and had now stumbled into a circle teeming with African predators.

"Dumo, that volcano must be very high. It doesn't look far on the horizon, but it's not so easy to get close by running. We probably can't shake off those seven or eight hyenas behind us. They're deliberately wearing us down, like hunting wild boars, until we're exhausted and become easy prey."

I grabbed Dumo's arm, leaping and running at top speed as I told him about the situation behind us. “Yeah, I’m furious too. There’s a crooked tree up ahead, let’s go over there and kill these damned beasts right there.”

“Okay.” With that, I quickened my pace and ran towards the large palm tree that Dumo had mentioned, growing alone on the grassland. Another bolt of lightning tore through the night sky, and the rain, no longer restrained, sizzled and pounded heavily on the soil that nurtured so many lives.

“Mr. Zhuima, won’t we get struck by lightning if we stand under such a tall palm tree?” I had already anticipated Dumo’s warning. He couldn’t know that I had experienced a lightning strike on the summit of a deserted island mountain stream. Therefore, whenever a storm came and my body was exposed outdoors, I was more sensitive to conductive objects than anyone else.

“Hyenas have incredibly strong jaws. Once they bite you, they'll hold on like wild boars. If you don't want them to tear a chunk of flesh from your back, try to use a large tree as cover to block the hyenas from leaping up from behind.” I said, pushing Dumo against the tree trunk as if to tie him up.

“Also, try not to get any wounds from their bites, otherwise this vast grassland will become a dinner table, and you and I will just be hot steaks in the middle.” Dumo, panting heavily, was being loudly reminded by me. Dense rain pelted our heads, flowing down our noses and into our half-open mouths.

The next lightning bolt we anxiously awaited was nowhere to be seen. Dumo and I couldn't see each other, like groping in the dark. The hyenas running behind us rustled against the damp grass. Like cars screeching to a halt on a highway, they stopped near the large palm tree, lowering their bodies and circling us.

“Dumo, keep the call going. We'll pinpoint each other's approximate locations by recognizing each other's sounds. When attacking,

use your dagger with the blade angled inwards and upwards, don't swing it left or right to avoid friendly fire.” There was still no visible flash of light, but the seven or eight hyenas around us could see us quite clearly. “God, I really want to cut Jason Jody's ass off with this dagger and use his flesh to solve this problem. Otherwise, the first mate wouldn't have forbade me from even carrying a pistol.” Dumo's words made me feel that he lacked confidence. Perhaps he was a bloodthirsty soldier on the battlefield, but at this moment he was being pressured so badly by a few hyenas, even a little impatient.

“Have you heard the story of Wu Song fighting the tiger? Legend has it that a strong Chinese man killed a tiger with his bare hands. We now have sharp military daggers, and there are two strong men of ours. We're much luckier than that guy.” To encourage Dumo and give him the confidence to fight, I tried to say optimistic things.

"China, you mean China? It's a magical, ancient land with many rich grain-producing areas. I grew up in an orphanage in Burundi and ate a lot of food they gave me. The Chinese are friendly and peace-loving; they are good friends of our African brothers. I really hope to go there to eat dumplings during their Spring Festival. Hehe, don't laugh at me, I've never even had dumplings before!"

This burly, dark-skinned man, Dumo, always liked to steer the conversation towards food; in his heart, he seemed to truly consider himself a qualified gourmet. Just as he finished speaking, the long-awaited lightning suddenly appeared, like the claws of a dragon trying to step on the crater, followed by a deep, rumbling thunder.

Four large, wet hyenas, using the flash of lightning, more clearly aimed at Dumo and me for our throats. In the instant our vision disappeared, I saw a hyena with a round belly and a large rump rapidly spreading its short, braid-like tail, preparing to leap.

If the hyena pounced on us, even if we killed it, we would be injured. Furthermore, scavengers have very dirty mouths, breeding large amounts of bacteria or viruses. Even a small scratch on the neck or arm from their teeth, without timely injection of serum antibody drugs, is equivalent to being bitten by a venomous snake. The probability of tetanus is over 90%.

In the darkness, based on my estimation of the hyena's attack momentum, I suddenly leaped forward, lunging forward like a fencing master, bending my knees, my waist and stance becoming one. In that instant, my left arm protected my chin and chest, while my right hand, gripping the sharp dagger tightly, thrust with all my might into the hyena's round belly.

"Thud. Awooo, howling..." The tiger's mouth, tightly gripping the dagger, slammed solidly into the hyena's fleshy belly. This fierce sweeping motion of the dagger was intended to allow the sharp blade to pierce the hyena's belly while simultaneously using my fist to push it open, protecting my front from being hooked by claws.

The hyenas, suspended in mid-air, thought they could seize the moment when the lightning disappeared and bite my neck in the pitch-black night. Then, they slammed down on me, knocking me to the ground so that their other companions could pounce on me and tear me apart.

But these wild beasts were far less capable hunters than lions and leopards. They dared to chase Dumo and me like we were tough-skinned wild boars, relying entirely on their numerical advantage. Judging by the tenacity of these hyenas, they probably wanted to wear us down or kill us before dawn.

The first hyena to pounce and tear at us severely underestimated my attack speed and the sharpness of my knife. Even while it was in mid-air, a twenty-centimeter gash was slashed across its belly. As it cut, I could feel the ribs beneath its hide snapping and breaking under the blade.

Chapter 205: The Island of Survival on the Grassland

"Crack, crack..." Two bolts of lightning struck the distant, towering volcano again. The moment the blade pierced the hyena's belly, I felt a spurt of thick, hot liquid spray onto my face, which was already cold from the rain.

I quickly squinted and simultaneously turned my head to dodge. Dumo was looking at me, and from the hyena's howl, he knew one had already been severely wounded by the dagger. The other hyenas witnessed their leader pounce first. It lay sprawled on the wet grass, the massive gash on its belly seeming to weigh a ton, making it gasp for breath.

The rain intensified, and the wind whipped wildly. A flash of lightning lasted two or three seconds, striking the large hyena at their feet, its blood staining half its grassy belly.

The stench of blood quickly spread through the pack. "Ugh, ugh..." the wounded hyena whimpered, as if realizing its impending death, making its final plea for the others to watch over the cubs in the burrow.

"Six more hyenas! They look fiercer than Tibetan mastiffs!" Dumo shouted, leaning his thick back closer to the palm tree. He was right; the six beasts remained in a fan formation, tightly surrounding us.

“Dumo, these are just small beasts, far less ferocious than Tibetan mastiffs, just a few mongrel dogs. If you're afraid, I'll kill them all myself, leaving you none.” I had to say this to keep Dumo going and prevent him from easily giving up his fighting spirit.

In fact, I was well aware of the situation; Dumo's fear wasn't unfounded. A lone cheetah or leopard is unlikely to engage in a prolonged fight with a large hyena, much like how those wearing shoes are afraid of those without. Wild animals generally won't risk their lives for food, because injury means no prey, and death.

Hyenas have highly developed canines and carnassials with incredible bite force, making them the only mammals capable of chewing bones. Therefore, when they fight leopards, they don't necessarily need to win; simply injuring their opponent is enough to put them on the brink of death.

These six large creatures, despite witnessing the horrific death of their companions, showed no sign of retreat. This indicates they were very hungry. The dry season on this grassland must have just ended, and many herbivores had not yet migrated here. My appearance with Dumo at this critical juncture was undoubtedly creating trouble for ourselves.

These creatures, raised on the African savanna, are incredibly wild and tenacious. “Mr. Chase, stop trying to comfort me. Dumo may be fat, but he’s not stupid. Didn’t you see? When they stand, their shoulders are higher than their hips, and their forequarters are thicker than their hindquarters. They all have big heads, thick skulls, long heads and short snouts, large and round ears, and especially the four toes at the ends of their forelimbs,

which are deeply embedded in the grass, making it impossible to see if there are sickle-like hooks on their large claws.” “Alright, Dumo, what are you trying to say? Can’t you say something else, something to signal each other in the dark?” I shouted impatiently, partly because I was annoyed by Dumo’s weakness, and partly because it was pitch black, and the six hyenas had probably changed positions. I couldn’t predict which direction they would suddenly pounce from. They were hidden in the darkness and could easily bite my throat and rip out my heart. The signals Dumo used to identify each other shouldn’t contain anything unusual; that would distract them from their cooperative efforts.

“Mr. Chase Horse, I mean we’re in big trouble. Haven’t you realized this is a pack of spotted hyenas, the largest and fiercest breed on the African savanna? They can devour 15 kilograms of prey, skin and bones, in one go, and take down zebras and wildebeests one-on-one. Oh, and these guys have an incredibly strong appetite and digestive system.”

Dumo’s words sent chills down my spine as I recalled the scene after the lightning strike. The six brown hyenas had irregular dark brown spots on their fur, each measuring at least 180 centimeters long, with a shoulder height of at least 90 centimeters. Combining Dumo’s description with this thought, the morale I had gained from killing one of the brown hyenas deflated like a balloon being pricked by a needle.

"Read the full text novel online, updated faster, all at 16k Literature Network, PC site: www.16k.cn, mobile site: wap.16k.cn. Support literature, support 16k! Why isn't your nickname 'Kodo Pig'? Is there anything more demoralizing than this? Say it, so we can quickly digest these brown hyenas that have you trembling with fear." I seemed to roar as I shouted, and Dumo got a little annoyed with me.

"Oh God, Mr. Chase doesn't understand? We'd rather be surrounded by six cheetahs than be in this situation." Dumo's complaint made me immediately understand. He knew brown hyenas better than I did, and knew I had oversimplified the problem.

“The hyena you just stabbed to death with your dagger had a fake male genital organ in its groin; it wasn’t its real one. This was a pack of female hyenas; they wanted to eat quickly and rushed back to their burrows to feed their cubs. We’re being watched. If there were eight brown hyenas chasing us, it means one of them went to call for backup.”

Hearing this, I realized I had wronged Dumo. He didn’t want me to take risks based on mere courage. Even if I had accurately killed one, who could guarantee the second wouldn’t die so easily from a sharp dagger?

“This big palm tree looks about five meters tall, with a thick, smooth trunk. Can you climb it?” As I said this, I felt like a snail standing under a stripped-down onion; it would be even harder for Dumo to climb to the top. “Dumo, you have to go up. I’ll cover you.”

With that, I quickly crouched down against the tree. Dumo instantly understood the next steps from my voice. With practiced agility, he landed precisely on my shoulders, his thick arms gripping the tree trunk firmly before he began to climb.

The pressure on my shoulders eased, and I started to push off with my legs, my knees tucked in, working in tandem with Dumo's arms to propel me upwards. At this moment, my center of gravity was low, making me extremely vulnerable to being bitten in the throat by a charging brown hyena.

The howling wind and rain swept through the darkness before me, the wet grass swaying wildly in the wind. I gritted my teeth, straining against the heavy kodo beast, which weighed at least 160 kilograms. My soaked military boots, bearing the weight of two strong men, had sunk deep into the soft grass. As

I pushed against Dumo, I let out a low, angry roar, trying to deter the restless hyenas and prevent them from attacking when I was vulnerable. "Alright, I've finally reached the treetop. The leaves up there are huge, like canopies, effectively sheltering me from the wind and rain."

"Can we chat after I get up there?" I asked, half-squatting in a fencing stance, gripping the blade tightly in my right hand and using my left to block my chin and throat, constantly scanning my surroundings. Dumo sat high in the palm tree, shouting joyfully, as if he had finally reached a safe haven and was about to mock the brown hyenas below.

Chapter 206: Approaching the Plantation's Stomach

"Mr. Chase Horse, I'll drop the dagger vertically at your mouth. Stand back a little. Once you have two daggers, you can climb up like a praying mantis. Count to five, and the dagger will start falling. One, two..."

The strong wind and rain scattered, carrying Dumo's comical and optimistic voice far away, as if it came from the horizon. I took a few steps forward to prevent the falling dagger from being blown off course by the wind; if it were to hit me on the head, there would probably be nothing luckier for a brown hyena.

With a "whoosh," the dagger that Dumo had dropped vertically pierced the soft mud and grass. Following the sound, I slowly retreated to where the dagger had fallen, first stepping on it with my foot, then waving my right arm left and right twice to warn the hyenas not to attack while I was bending over. I then quickly picked up another melee weapon.

The six large brown hyenas seemed to sense my intention to climb the tree and began to growl impatiently. This gave me a rough idea of their location.

In a flash, I gripped both daggers, blades pointing downwards, in my hands. With a shout, I swiftly turned and leaped up the tree. As my legs gripped the trunk, both daggers plunged into the bark. To prevent the hyenas from attacking and tearing at my calves, I used both hands and feet, and like a praying mantis, I quickly climbed the large palm tree.

As I approached Dumo, he grabbed my shoulder, as if afraid I would fall back down, and pulled me up with all his might. "Wow, you're so agile climbing trees, like a monkey!" I said, perched on a few broad leaves, facing Dumo and hugging the same trunk.

"It's so cold up there, my inner thighs are practically frozen. Dumo, are you cold?" We clung to the swaying tree, our lips trembling violently. "What do you think? I just regret not having enough fat. It's cold, but at least the hyenas can't eat us." He trembled too, then hugged the tree even tighter, as if afraid a sudden gust of wind would throw his somewhat overweight body off and feed the hyenas.

"If I could have your beef pie right now, or a small piece of hot pizza, that would be perfect." I said, pressing my cold, damp forehead against the trunk and hugging it tighter. The wind of the rainy night seemed to deliberately blow away our warmth, blowing relentlessly.

After catching their breath a few times in the treetop, the brown hyenas below raised their front paws, gripping the palm trunk and trying to shake off their plump prey. The others howled and circled anxiously.

"Now, would you rather they were a pack of cheetahs?" I asked Dumo, feeling lost, as I gripped a branch between my legs, using my dagger to whittle down the leaves on either side. "Oh, no, I'd rather they were hyenas, otherwise, it's not safe up in the tree."

Dumo was so frightened because he knew these beasts so well; his earnest tone made it seem as if I were God, able to selectively turn hyenas into tree-climbing cheetahs. However, exhaustion couldn't suppress his talkativeness.

“Mr. Chase, you might not know this, but adult cheetahs can’t climb trees. Juvenile cheetahs can climb trees, but because they don’t have claw sheaths, their claws can’t retract, so they wear down with age, eventually becoming unable to climb. If there were a pack of cheetahs below, we wouldn’t be able to chat so leisurely.”

Dumo, a man raised on the African plains, knew every animal of the savanna. Only now did I truly understand how dangerous it was to fight six large brown hyenas in the dark grass with a short dagger.

“Here, Dumo, try this on. It’s much better than those bird-tail-like leaves on your head.” I handed him the woven cloak. “Oh my God, this is amazing! It not only protects me from the rain and wind, but it also feels a bit warm. What is this? Just a few simple blades of grass, twisted in your hands, and it becomes so practical.”

My legs were still icy cold, my arms were tucked tightly under my ribs, and my trembling hands were weaving the cloak. “This is a straw raincoat. In ancient China, there was a virtuous old man who couldn’t stand the corruption and hypocrisy of the court. So he simply rowed a small boat alone and fished on the frozen, snowy river. He wore a similar straw raincoat. Although it wasn’t as comfortable as a brocade robe, his spirit broke free from the shackles of wealth and honor.”

After listening, Dumo, like a curious schoolchild, pondered for a long time before continuing. “You’re a China expert, Southeast Asia is next to China, right?” His words were like a thorn, startling me. I was trapped in a palm tree on the African savanna, forced by hypocritical politics, and my current situation was remarkably similar to that of the ancient poet.

The wind and rain that night only began to subside when the fiery sun rose from the horizon at the edge of the savanna. I shook the drowsy Dumo awake, urging him to get up and get down from the tree.

The morning air was freezing; if you closed your eyes, you wouldn’t feel like you were on the Tropic of Capricorn. “Dumo, why is Réunion so cold? I imagined Africa to be incredibly hot.”

He released the tree he had been embracing all night, lazily opened his mouth wide, stretched, blinked his slightly bloodshot eyes a few times, and slowly said, “Many people who come to Africa for the first time are like you; they mistakenly imagine that the equatorial climate of Gabon, Congo, Rwanda, Uganda, and Kenya is the climate of all of Africa.”

“I only know a little about Congo. It’s divided into the Democratic Republic of Congo and the Republic of Congo. The former is the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the latter is the Republic of Congo. Originally a single country, it was divided into two countries by the dirty knife of colonialism.”

Dumo’s posture as he climbed down the tree looked like a clumsy rhinoceros. He listened attentively as he carefully slid down. “You only got the history right, but there are many deeper things that you can’t feel at all. Of course, those are mostly unknown.”

This sentence immediately pulled me back to reality from my relaxed state of mind. He seemed to have participated in those changes, so he spoke with the air of someone who had been there all along.

"Look, those brown hyenas are gone. I thought they'd be trapped in the tree. Looks like their hunger far surpasses ours, hahaha..." I was climbing halfway up the big palm tree when I heard Dumo, who had spent the night in such a sorry state, laughing like this. I immediately stopped and turned around.

"Watch out, they're behind you." The words had barely left my mouth when Dumo let out a yell, like a crazed bear, and with lightning speed, grabbed the tree again and started climbing upwards without a care.

"Hahaha, look at you, so pathetic. With such good light, a sharp dagger, and such a sensitive hyena, at this rate, you'll have a hard time getting out of the grasslands." With that, I jumped down from the tree. The moment my boots hit the damp grass, my thighs ached from the impact. This night had truly been miserable.

"Those hyenas must have gone back to chew on zebra bones. It's not that I'm afraid of them, I just don't want to be bitten for no reason." Dumo's comical antics made me temporarily forget my hunger and cold.

“Just hang in there a little longer, the sun will soon shine on us, and we’ll feel warmer then.” Listening to Dumo’s words, I deliberately looked towards the round, red sun at the edge of the grassland, hoping it would rise quickly, otherwise I would freeze and become easy prey for scavengers if I collapsed on the grassland.

“After crossing the volcano, and then through a meadow and a palm grove, we can enter the black plantation and have a steaming cup of coffee there,” Dumo said, sheathing his dagger in his left chest and leading the way ahead of me.

We walked towards the rising sun, towards that cup of hot coffee we longed for, approaching our respective tasks.

The drizzle stopped completely in less than an hour. When we reached the halfway point of the volcano, the surrounding light was bright. Looking around, Reunion Island was actually quite small, only about the size of a city.

On the gray-yellow grassland, a few lions appeared from time to time. They must have eaten their fill last night, because they didn’t pay much attention to a dark, fat man and a yellow-skinned man with long hair crossing their territory.

As we traversed the palm grove, we encountered several medium-sized pythons and a number of wild birds whose names we couldn't identify. They might have been pheasants, or perhaps large wild pigeons; in any case, Dumo and I could

n't help but swallow hard. Dumo boasted that he could eat four Orleans roast chickens in one go. I didn't say anything, but reflexively swallowed again. Our stomachs were both painfully empty.

Chapter 207: The Assassin Behind the Laughter

. Dumo and I used two wooden sticks, which we used to lean on as we climbed the mountain. The small hill beyond the palm grove wasn't high or steep, but we were both hungry and exhausted, dragging our leaden legs. It felt like we had walked a long way before finally seeing a lush green tea plantation.

Several middle-aged women carrying bamboo baskets were bent over, busily picking tender tea leaves. Their heads were wrapped in red or blue headscarves, as if to protect them from the sun's rays and prevent them from going bald. But the intense ultraviolet rays had already tanned their faces

, dark from their labor. I couldn't be sure of their skin color; they seemed like a mix of East and West Asian descent. When Dumo saw the plantation before him, his thick, dark lips immediately curled upwards, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Excited like a child, he tumbled and ran down the half-muddy, half-soil hillside.

"Kamonya, I'm back, I'm back, hahaha..." Dumo's joy was indescribable; it was as if he had been away from home for many years, only to return after making a fortune to see his wife. The plantation was vast, growing not only tea but also potatoes and various spices. When one is hungry and cold, seeing lush, verdant crops brings a psychological comfort that words cannot express.

A woman nearing fifty, her complexion sallow yet somehow radiant, was clearly of mixed race. She possessed a straight nose and a large, smiling mouth. I imagined she must have been incredibly beautiful in her youth, a beauty so incongruous with the glittering jewelry of the lavish banquet.

Camilla's life was perhaps inseparable from bright sunshine, water, and fertile soil; she was accustomed to hard work and possessed a healthy, robust physique. I knew all too well that this beauty benefited many, yet was often overlooked.

Following behind Dumo, I quickly met this woman named Camilla and exchanged greetings. This woman, with her dark, yellowish skin, had a captivating smile; the corners of her long mouth curved in a way that instantly brought peace. Dumo, fortunate to have been cared for by this godmother since childhood, had grown into the robust man he was today.

That evening, Dumo and I lay on the bamboo bed beneath the thatched hut, surrounded by the heavy, pungent fragrance of lush rapeseed flowers, almost suffocating. Not far behind the house, several large crickets hid in the weeds, chirping incessantly in the cool night.

Dumo, as always, chattered on and on, recounting many tragic stories about Camilla. This woman, in her youth, had illegally immigrated to Réunion Island to make a living, working as a lowly laborer on a plantation. She had many children, each with a different father; more precisely, the woman herself didn't know who the fathers were.

Every man who approached Camilla found full physical satisfaction in her, yet they were unwilling to share her arduous life, and soon quietly left. Even so, Camilla fulfilled her great maternal duty, feeding and raising each child. Now, those children had gone to Madagascar, spending their days adrift at sea with fishmongers.

Years of silent toil had honed Camilla's equanimity towards life; she seemed to feel that enduring the heavy labor, as long as she was fed and clothed, was already a source of satisfaction and happiness.

Dumo never mentioned the details of the mission; it was as if he was leading me on a journey. Several times I wanted to ask him, but I hesitated, because that would force Dumo to lie. "The braised beef with potatoes was delicious, wasn't it? You ate two big bowls today."

Talking to Dumo always inevitably led to the topic of food. To treat us well, Camilla had specially gone to the small market in the mountain valley to buy fresh beef and salmon. If we continued eating like this every day, Dumo's godmother would be bankrupt in less than a week.

I wanted to give this poor plantation worker some money, but besides a sharp dagger, I had no other money. Dumo, since eating his last piece of chocolate, was also penniless. Thinking of this, I once again recognized my predicament. I had been reduced to relying on the kind Camilla for food; what could I possibly offer in return? I simply accepted my lack of ability.

“Dumo, I need to eat a lot of beef these next two days to replenish the muscle fiber I’ve lost and keep my strength at its peak. How long do you think Camilla’s savings can sustain this kind of food expense?” I asked deliberately, trying to get Dumo to reveal some of our plans.

Dumo lay on his back on the bamboo bed, his round belly bulging high. He stretched out his four thick limbs, staring blankly at the starry sky for a while before finally sitting up and saying, “Only Jason Jody and his friends know about the mission. The two assassins I led the first time died in action just two weeks after arriving in Madagascar. So, this time I’ll take you to Mauritius first, and from there we’ll take a boat to Madagascar.”

I pondered for a moment, repeatedly considering Dumo’s words. From the moment I dived into the small nuclear submarine, I had already made a preliminary plan. Along the way, I would use a strategy of feigned indifference to constantly whet Dumo’s appetite, making him develop a liking for me in a very short time, so as to extract as much important information as possible from him, especially regarding the safety of the three women on the Sea Demon.

Réunion is French territory, and our clandestine entry into the country was largely unnoticed by the countries along the east coast of Africa. Mauritius, as the second springboard, was a crucial and effective stepping stone. While seemingly unrelated, it was actually quite strategic. From a transportation standpoint, it avoided traversing vast deserts and utilized well-connected waterways for trade, allowing us to blend in and quickly reach our destination.

Furthermore, should the operation be exposed, the clues would become intertwined across the three islands off the east coast of Africa. One can imagine how poorly coordinated a group of black Africans and a group of white Frenchmen would be in their investigation.

“Dumo, we should at least have a small boat. If we're carrying a surfboard across the strait between Mauritius and the island, the sharks probably won't be as merciful as last time. And if we get to the Mauritian coast and have to cross treacherous forests or grasslands, and then a pack of large brown hyenas comes chasing us, do you think I can still escape like a praying mantis with two daggers?”

After hearing my question, Dumo clutched his fat belly and chuckled. The starry night sky, with its flickering light, still clearly distinguished his dark, shiny face and white teeth.

“Oh, hahaha… just thinking about how you climbed that tree last night, you really looked like a giant praying mantis. Even a gibbon couldn't match your agility.” "Hahaha..." I was puzzled as to why Dumo was laughing so heartily. He must have been observing me closely, even in the darkness.

My subconscious kept reminding me that this chubby, dark-skinned guy was probably watching my skills all along. His clumsiness and carelessness in every dangerous situation were likely a smokescreen, deliberately designed to lull me into a false sense of security. Deep down, I always remembered one thing: he was most likely the assassin who would kill me to silence me after the mission was complete. The assassin who kills the assassin is the most insidious and terrifying assassin.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/15169.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=15169&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Humanity Forbidden Island [Complete] - 13

Next Page : Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 15

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 14

comment Open a new window to view comments