Chapter 393 - 170: Slaughter
Perhaps it was the two standing up together that gave the leading native confidence, or perhaps the long-standing condescension within the tribe made him forget the current situation.
The third repetition by Sunday not only failed to intimidate him but instead stirred his anger—
"You little beast, where did you get the guts to speak to us in this tone?"
Muttering crude native slang under his breath, he defiantly tilted his head back, staring straight into Sunday's eyes, while raising the knife in his hand.
At the same time, Chen Zhou, whose sights had long been locked on his head, pulled the trigger.
...
The swiftly fired bullet surpassed all words.
As the lead bullet pierced the eye socket, and the leader's back of the head burst open like a smashed watermelon, as the red and white substances splattered onto the faces and bodies of the surrounding natives, the crisp sound of the gunshot echoed in everyone's ears.
Bang~
A muffled sound followed the gunshot.
The leader's face still bore a defiant expression, but his eyes forever froze, and his body gradually grew cold.
This thud was the sound of him falling backward heavily onto the sand.
...
Silence, a deathly silence.
Fear washed over the natives like a tide, and those already lying on the ground trembled as if their bodies were sifting grain, not daring to lift their heads.
The two standing shoulder to shoulder with the leader felt their knees weaken and their bodies fell to the ground, powerless hands completely unable to hold the knives they held.
...
The sudden gunshot not only intimidated the natives but also startled Sunday from his daze.
His palms, tightly gripping the knife handle and rope, had begun to sweat, and for a moment, it seemed as if all sound disappeared from his ear except for his erratic heartbeat and heavy breathing.
Things suddenly developed this way, and in his panic, he forgot Chen Zhou's instructions, forgot his own identity, instinctively wanting to lie on the ground and submit to the might of "God" like the natives.
Fortunately, Sunday stood beside him, and seeing his knees weakening more and more, reached out in time to grab the back of his collar, preventing him from falling.
"Ah Tun, what exactly are you afraid of?
Stand firm, think about who you are!"
Sunday's voice was powerful and resonant, speaking Mandarin, a language that only three people here could understand.
...
The natives were terrified and panicked, showing different behavior than Saturday and Sunday.
All these scenes fell into Chen Zhou's eyes; he swiftly loaded the next bullet, squinting his eyes slightly with interest as he observed the reactions of everyone that would follow.
Saturday's cowardice was a flaw inherent in his nature, something Chen Zhou had known for a long time.
However, his meticulous thinking and diligent, earnest learning couldn't compare to Sunday, and Chen Zhou thought Saturday was more suitable for managing logistics.
This time, having the two go together, he wanted to observe the performance of the two natives, and also give Saturday a chance to see if he has the potential to become a "strong-arm administrator."
The result was evident; compared with the assertive Sunday, Saturday's behavior was truly disappointing.
"It seems that in the future, most of these people will have to be handed over for Sunday to manage, but sometimes he's too impulsive, likely to go to extremes..."
Uncertain why two natives growing up in similar environments developed such different characters, Chen Zhou felt quite troubled.
In his view, Sunday's methods were absolutely ruthless, with an execution capability where he says what he does.
But behind this decisive fierceness, there is a lack of thought, easily stirring public anger and triggering riots.
If Saturday's thoughtfulness could be shared with Sunday a little, and Sunday's aggressiveness shared with Saturday a bit, they would both be excellent talents.
Unfortunately, a person's character cannot be easily reversed.
Chen Zhou can only try his best to assign them suitable positions and then select potential talents from other natives.
...
Werner was completely unaware of what was happening on the beach.
He was desperately fleeing, using all his strength.
Finally, dragging a sprained leg that couldn't touch the ground, he half walked and half ran with the support of a wooden stick used as a cane, leaving the forest and arriving at the beach.
Even before reaching the gathered natives, from afar, he could see Sunday and Saturday.
These two were dressed in clothes, incompatible with the many natives, causing Werner to be startled.
He immediately halted his steps forward, crouched to first observe their clothing and weapons, to assess their threat and background.
...
Sunday and Saturday kept their clothes clean daily, keeping their sailor uniforms neat and tidy.
But a sailor uniform is merely a sailor uniform, no matter how clean it is, it cannot escape the limitations of this era, nor does it appear to be "superior" or enemies from an unknown state.
Moreover, Sunday and Saturday were natives that Werner held in the least esteem.
In his view, even if dressed in the Pope's finery, it wouldn't change the fundamental nature of these natives resembling wild monkeys.
Therefore, seeing two clothed natives chirping commands at the other natives, he not only didn't fear, but secretly chuckled to himself.
Of course, Werner prided himself in not being an unperceptive person.
He quickly associated the two clothed natives with the mysterious gunman and formed his own speculations.
Mixing among the natives was something Werner always looked down upon.
If it weren't for his companion, "Captain Kilian," having proved the foresight of his vision and accuracy of judgment with correct decisions over the years, Werner would never have waded into these waters.
Forcing himself to endure this group of natives' canoe to the island, he truly didn't care about the missing twenty-some people; he only wanted to muddle through and complete the task.