Chapter 550 - 58: Rabble
What happened in the forest, Sunday naturally did not know.
At this moment, he was leading the sailors forward, slowly and cautiously.
This island was once their homeland, and some sailors even came from the tribe, though they had embraced a promising new life, memories of the past couldn’t be completely forgotten in just a year or so.
During the advance, Sunday ordered the sailors not to indiscriminately kill ordinary tribe members. If conflicts arose, they should try to maintain a friendly attitude—
In the future, these people might become new residents of the island, and he didn’t want to strain the relationship too much.
The armed forces attached to the Tribe Leader had been "thoroughly defeated" by them.
Next, they only needed to eliminate the remaining loyal indigenous warriors and then capture the Tribe Leader alive to show to the other tribe members.
...
Worried that indigenous warriors might hide behind the jungle vegetation to shoot cold arrows, the sailors’ advance was not fast, not comparable to the tribe warriors who were running for their lives.
Ever since entering the woods, Sunday had not seen any sign of those tribe deserters but instead saw ordinary natives who couldn’t hide in time, bewildered native children, and heavily pregnant native women, one after another.
These people looked at the fully armed, strangely dressed, and ominous-looking outsiders with faces full of panic and confusion, afraid to pick up weapons to resist yet not knowing where to flee.
Fortunately, this team came from the native tribe, and everyone in the team could speak the indigenous language.
Using the power of language to calm these tribe members, Sunday tentatively asked for information about the tribe deserters and the Leader.
Faced with inquiries from strangers, the ordinary tribe members were very distrustful.
But seeing the weapons carried by the outsiders and their imposing momentum, plus the frontline war reports spread by the tribe deserters within the tribe, even if they were unwilling, they ended up giving away all the information on the tribe deserters.
It was something they couldn’t help.
Even if adults were tight-lipped, Sunday could use chocolate to bribe the children in the tribe.
Very few children living here could have enough to eat, let alone taste a special food with a high sugar content. The rich taste of chocolate even conquered the adult indigenous people who were once captives, leaving the native children defenseless against it.
With the help of this group of "sensible ones," Sunday and his men advanced directly to the Leader’s residence in the tribe center without taking any detours.
...
Having heard Chen Zhou explain the principle of "You can run away as a monk, but you can’t leave the temple," Sunday didn’t rush after obtaining intelligence. He continued to advance steadily, cautiously guarding against indigenous ambushes.
This habit was unlike his character; he had always been impulsive.
However, although this operation seemed overwhelmingly powerful, the risks they bore had never decreased—
They were all flesh and blood, not to mention being stabbed by a Wooden Spear; even taking an arrow would take at least a month for the wound to heal.
Now he was not alone but the leader of the team.
If he ordered the sailors to charge, they would rush forward without hesitation, and the warriors would execute every decision he made without doubting.
Precisely because of this, he could feel the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. With so many lives entrusted to him, he couldn’t afford to act recklessly.
With each advance, Sunday would order everyone to sweep the surrounding pits and bushes to prevent any hidden indigenous people from ambushing.
As the sailors used Long Sabers to cut through the surrounding bushes and weeds, he would climb to a high place and use a telescope to observe the distance, gathering more intelligence.
This all-out approach, even for a lion hunting a hare, was an act for Sunday to be responsible for himself and his subordinates.
Unexpectedly, during one observation on the way to the tribe center, he inadvertently gathered information about the Spaniards.
...
The Spaniards advancing under the Tribe Leader’s lead were dressed in either black or blue clothing, wearing brimmed hats for sun protection, carrying long matchlock guns on their backs.
In a stretch of green jungle, they marched openly without any awareness of concealing themselves, so to Sunday, who climbed up a tree with a telescope, they were strikingly conspicuous—a blue spot among the greenery.
Facing the indigenous, Sunday was already full of vigilance.
When he saw the long guns on the Spaniards’ backs, he felt his hair stand on end.
From being saved from a sacrifice and terrified by firearms, to now understanding and being able to repair and use them, he had long known the terrifying power of firearms.
Exaggerating a bit, firearms might be like the Divine Power of the Celestial God in legends, capable of punishing anyone who dared to defy divine might.
Having attended more professional firearms courses, Sunday recognized the matchlock guns on the Spaniards’ backs.
The gun Chen Zhou first taught him to use was also a matchlock gun, and now there were still several such "antiques" in the second-floor warehouse of the factory.
Sunday was well aware of the disadvantages of matchlock guns, but that didn’t stop him from having an instinctive wariness of such a weapon.
Although the Chen Family 1662 rifle they possessed could outperform the matchlock gun in all aspects, once within the matchlock gun’s range, if the Spaniards fired, any sailor hit by a bullet would have virtually no chance of survival—
Matchlock guns using Lead Bullets might not have a long range, sufficient accuracy, or rapid firing speed, but their power was by no means inferior to the Chen Family rifle.
Chen Zhou had said that on battlefields of the 17th century, bullets from matchlock guns could defeat knights in full armor, demonstrating their formidable power.