What the hell!!

’What else could it be?’ The old man had called him into the room, sweet-talked him for a while, and then asked him to perform a divination.

A normal divination would have been fine, but he wanted him to divine the future of the entire Athabasca Tribe.

That wasn’t just about one person or one event—it was the future course of an entire people. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Feng Shan never imagined divining the fate of a tribe would be so dangerous. The moment his fingers finished tying the knot on the straw rope, it snapped in two, and the Soul Power in his Witchcraft Bone Ring was instantly drained.

If he hadn’t made a split-second decision to cut off the divination at the critical moment, the consequences would have been unthinkable. He might have become the first Witch to kick the bucket from divining.

Even so, Feng Shan was severely weakened. He leaned against the wall, gasping for air.

His body trembled uncontrollably, as if every cell was screaming in agony, and cold sweat dripped relentlessly down his cheeks.

"Feng, should we go to the hospital?" Jie Luo and Yves helped Feng Shan up and guided him into a lounge across the hall.

Sinking into a sofa, Feng Shan waved a weak, feeble hand. "Quick, get me some food. Meat, preferably. The more, the better."

"Right!" Jie Luo turned to one of the other Indian men, who nodded and left.

A short while later, the Indian man returned with an armful of burgers and Coca-Cola. "Sorry, all we have is Burger King."

At this point, Feng Shan was in no mood to be picky.

He grabbed a burger, tore off the wrapper, and devoured it in two or three bites. Then he grabbed a second, a third, a fourth...

Jie Luo, Yves, and the Indian man standing to the side stared with wide eyes, their faces filled with disbelief.

Those were triple beef burgers from Burger King. A normal person would be full after two, yet in just a short time, Feng Shan had already eaten ten of them and was still going.

"Feng, you... it’s a shame you don’t enter eating competitions." Jie Luo, seeing the somber mood in the room, stammered out a joke.

Feng Shan, who was furiously scarfing down burgers, rolled his eyes.

’Look what I’ve become for your tribe, and you still have the nerve to joke around.’

As the large amount of food entered his stomach and converted into energy for his weakened body, Feng Shan could clearly feel his strength gradually returning.

The feeling of extreme exhaustion and helplessness slowly faded, replaced by a rising tide of vitality.

As his body slowly recovered, Feng Shan had the distinct feeling of having survived a disaster. The backlash from the divination was terrifying.

Recalling the perilous moment, a chill still ran down his spine. The fear of his Soul Power being instantly drained, of his very life seeming to vanish in a flash, was seared deep into his heart.

He secretly swore to never again perform a divination that was beyond his limits. It had nearly cost him his life.

After eating the last burger, Feng Shan, aside from a still-pale face, had no problem moving around normally.

He stood up and stretched his limbs, feeling his strength slowly returning.

Just then, he heard an announcement from the main hall that the meeting was about to begin.

"Feng, the Chief’s gift will be delivered shortly." Seeing that Feng Shan was all right, a relieved smile appeared on Jie Luo’s face.

’A gift?’

’Don’t just give me some jerky, animal hides, or wood carvings. I almost died for your tribe.’

Feng Shan nodded and hurried out of the room with Yves.

Back in the main hall.

Louise was with a group of chiefs from the Kuhaha Tribe of the Far North Region, gathering votes and signatures.

Seeing Feng Shan’s pale face, she asked with concern, "Feng, are you alright?"

"I’m fine." Feng Shan waved his hand dismissively, then noticed the stack of documents in Louise’s hands. "What’s this?"

Louise smiled and held up the documents.

"These are letters of authorization from members of the Taiga Tribe Alliance. A total of 18 community villages have now agreed to you becoming the Sheriff. We’ll be reporting this to the state government and the Bureau of Indian Affairs next. We’ll be counting on you for the next three years."

’That many?’

Feng Shan’s pupils constricted. He hadn’t expected there to be so many villages in the Far North Tundra.

Then he saw a troubled look on Louise’s face. She seemed to be hesitating, wanting to say something but unable to get it out.

"We’re friends. If you have something to say, just say it."

Louise hesitated for a moment.

"It’s like this... Old Pete from Point Laya Village, his youngest son was shot and killed the year before last while trying to stop some walrus poachers. The state police still haven’t caught the killer. He’d like to ask for your help in tracking down leads."

"It’s been two years. The killer is probably long gone. If it’s inconvenient, I can turn Old Pete down for you."

’Old Pete.’

’The Inuit man with the white beard?’

’No wonder he was so polite when we first met.’

Feng Shan thought for a moment. "You can tell him I’ll take the case. However, I’m not feeling well, so I’ll need to start in a week. How does that sound?"

"No problem. He’s waited two years, another week is nothing. I’ll go tell him the good news." Louise had thought Feng Shan would refuse and was delighted that he had agreed. She turned and hurried away.

"Buddy, where’d you run off to? A friend of mine wants to meet you." Frank walked over at that moment with a middle-aged, dark-haired man. "This is Mr. Peggy Robin, the CEO of the Arctic Slope Regional Corporation. He says he has a gift for you."

The dark-haired man smiled and extended his hand, radiating a powerful aura.

"Hello, Mr. Feng. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

’Arctic Slope Regional Corporation.’

’Never heard of it.’

’But judging from his appearance, he’s one of the Indigenous People. Why would he be giving me a gift out of the blue? Is he from the Wild Bull Tribe?’

Feng Shan sized up the stranger who wanted to meet him and responded cautiously.

"I don’t believe we’ve met?"

"There’s an old saying in China: to meet is to become friends, isn’t that so? I’ve been entrusted to deliver a gift to you. Please don’t refuse this gift from the Wild Bull."

Seemingly expecting this, Peggy Robin smiled slightly and unhurriedly pulled an exquisitely wrapped envelope from inside his suit jacket.

’A gift from the Wild Bull?’

’Looks like the old man really did send someone with a gift.’

’Considering how much I suffered, almost kicking the bucket, it’s not too much to accept a gift from you.’

Feng Shan accepted the exquisite envelope without ceremony. "Alright, I’ll take it."

A satisfied smile appeared on Peggy Robin’s face. He nodded slightly. "My task is complete. I hope you’ll like the gift."

"Buddy, Peggy gave you a gift? He’s a notorious miser." Frank watched Peggy Robin’s figure disappear into the crowd, muttering to himself with a frown.

"Arctic Slope Regional Corporation, what do they do?" Feng Shan held the envelope, feeling something very thin inside. ’A cashier’s check, or something else?’

"You don’t know?" Feng Shan’s question snapped Frank out of his thoughts, and he began to fill him in.

After the United States officially made Alaska a state in the 1950s, oil exploration became a turning point in the fate of Alaska’s Indigenous People.

Extremely contradictory laws led to endless disputes between the Indigenous People and the state government over land issues, as the government needed to acquire large amounts of land for oil-related projects.

In the 1970s, a congressional act stipulated that the entire state of Alaska be divided into 12 regions, with 12 corresponding Indigenous corporations to be established.

Each corporation could select the land it wanted within its own region. In total, Congress reserved 180,000 square kilometers of land for the Indigenous People—about one-tenth of the state’s total area—and provided a certain amount of monetary compensation.

Every Indigenous person is a member of a corporation. The corporation profits from operations on the resource-rich lands it selects, and the members share in the profits.

Even though every Indigenous person could receive a permanent oil dividend of over 1,000 US Dollars a month, this act also meant they permanently lost their claim to ninety percent of Alaska’s land and cemented their status as a colonized people.

’No wonder!’

Hearing this, Feng Shan finally understood.

He finally understood why these Indigenous People were unwilling to relocate, despite the harsh environment of the Far North Tundra Region. He had wondered how they managed to make a living.

Fishing and hunting could barely sustain them, but they still needed money for food, clothing, housing, and transportation.

Old Swan was so poor he drank moss tea, yet Little Swan could still race around on a snowmobile that used fuel costing $11.60 per gallon.

With a dividend of 1,000 US Dollars per person per month, Old Swan’s family of four had an income of at least 4,000 US Dollars a month.

So how could Kivalina not have the money to relocate? Why were the town’s residents relying on food aid every day?

"I bet you’re thinking about Kivalina." Frank was like a mind reader; he knew exactly what Feng Shan was thinking just by looking at his expression.

"Buddy, the permanent oil dividend is paid to individual Indigenous People, not to the community villages. Why should the residents pay for the community’s relocation costs? Your logic is flawed."

Feng Shan was speechless. The cultural differences between China and the West were indeed vast.

If this were a village relocation back in China, aside from the portion the government paid for, wouldn’t every villager pitch in their own money and labor? But here in the United States, that was considered flawed logic.

"I guess I was being too simplistic. So what about the Arctic Slope Regional Corporation?"

"The Arctic Slope Regional Corporation isn’t famous, but its parent company, ConocoPhillips, was ranked 9th on the 2017 Fortune list. And ConocoPhillips’ largest oil-producing area is right here in Alaska." Frank gave him a meaningful look, seeing no need to elaborate further.

’Ranked 9th on the 2017 Fortune list.’

Feng Shan’s breath caught. The envelope in his hand suddenly felt heavy.

Just then, his phone rang. He pulled it out and saw it was a call from Tom.

He answered, and Tom’s excited voice came through the line.

"Buddy, I really can’t understand the mindset of the nouveau riche. You can’t just buy a plane because you flew on one once, can you?"

’What the hell?’

’Buy a plane?’

’What plane?’

The hall was a chaotic mess of noise, and Feng Shan couldn’t hear clearly. He covered the receiver and walked to a quiet corner.

"What plane? I don’t understand."

"The plane! The new plane! A P-750 XSTOL, with ’Crown Colony’ painted on the fuselage. It’s gorgeous! I was just about to borrow a plane to take the kids to the Crown Territory."

"This joke isn’t funny at all. I didn’t buy any plane," Feng Shan said into the phone, his expression serious. Suddenly, his eyes fell on the envelope between his fingers, and a thought struck him.

"Hold on a second."

Handing the phone to Frank, Feng Shan tore open the envelope. Inside was a fine, folded card. On the front was a picture of a beautiful white, single-engine propeller plane.

He opened the card. Inside was a single, simple sentence: "May the friendship between the Wild Bull Tribe and you last forever."

’What is this?’

’Thanking me with a plane?’

’What kind of person do they take me for?’

’Do they think I’m the kind of person who can be easily bought with money?’

Feng Shan took the phone back from Frank and said to Tom.

"That’s right. That’s the Crown Territory’s plane. It just arrived today. You get to be the first to benefit."

...