Starting from Robinson Crusoe

The fantasy of a promising future prompted Werner to pick up the fishing box.

With the box tucked under one arm, he reached for the long saber at his waist with the other, ready to shout at the indigenous people to drop what they’d picked up and head towards the shore, when suddenly a familiar loud bang rang out from the distance—

Bang!

...

Startled birds flapped out of the forest, like a rising black cloud.

Chen Zhou once again caught the pungent smell of burnt gunpowder.

At the front end of the straight barrel, the mechanical sight locked onto a position, and an indigenous person had already fallen, writhing in pain.

The Mini Bullet, though outdated, had kinetic energy no less than that of a modern 5.56mm rifle bullet.

With at least 2000 joules of kinetic energy upon impact with a human body, it can create an instantaneous cavity with a diameter of up to 15-20cm, leaving a horrific permanent wound channel if it hits.

The toxic lead, deforming or fragmenting inside the body, would rapidly spread, causing wound infection and further increasing the fatality rate.

...

The bullet fired from the Chen Family rifle demonstrated its power for the first time on a living being rather than a wooden target.

From over two hundred meters away, the Mini Bullet, squeezed along the rifling, hit an indigenous person accurately in the lower abdomen.

At this moment, the indigenous person was already on the ground, clutching his belly in pain.

There was a very tiny wound on his stomach, covered by skin, like a pinprick.

But behind this "needle hole," on the side of his waist it had pierced through, was a bloody, bowl-sized wound.

The lead fragments, like a storm driven into the body, mercilessly tore apart his fragile flesh.

After the intense pain, lead poisoning would take center stage. Even if the external injury miraculously healed, the toxin would cause visceral decay, ultimately claiming the indigenous person’s life.

...

The sudden loud bang, the fallen companion, the bleeding wound, and the cries of pain interrupted the indigenous people’s celebration.

They dropped their fishing rods and umbrellas, shouting words of caution and fleeing in disarray.

Realizing it was a gun attack, Werner rushed into the wooden house immediately.

This forest had been cleared by Chen Zhou nearly three years ago, leaving almost no cover that could block bullets.

Werner knew very well that those indigenous peoples scattering in panic were essentially living targets.

The only viable choice now was to hide inside the house.

Moreover, he had to seize the opportunity to locate the shooter amid the chaos of the attack on the indigenous people. Perhaps then he’d have a slim chance of survival—

The effective range of a matchlock gun is only about 60 yards. At that distance, with careful observation, one could quickly spot the shooter, thus evading the line of fire to gain distance, or taking a desperate gamble by approaching.

The matchlock gun’s reload speed is extremely slow. If there was only one gun, the situation wouldn’t escalate significantly. If Werner could get close, he was confident he could finish off his enemy with the blade in his hand.

As a robber who had slaughtered over a hundred Inca Warriors, he had absolute confidence in his swordsmanship.

...

After a gunshot, there was about ten seconds of silence.

The only sounds in the forest were the weakening wails of the wounded indigenous person, and the calls of others fleeing.

Werner was secretly estimating the reloading time for the next bullet in the matchlock gun.

He had long since thrown the fishing box to the ground, tightly gripping the handle of his saber, cautiously observing the situation outside through the crack by the door hinge of the wooden house.

He narrowed his field of view to within fifty yards, straining to locate the shooter.

This area of the forest was rather open. Since Chen Zhou occasionally came here to fish, the grass was trodden down much flatter than the surrounding area, leaving almost no visual obstruction.

Logically, if anyone was within fifty meters, they should have been spotted immediately. So why couldn’t he find anything after a scan?

"Could it be a sharpshooter, or was he just lucky to hit the target?

Or did he relocate immediately after firing that shot?"

Just as Werner was about to expand his search range further, another gunshot rang out from afar.

Prepared this time, Werner not only determined the shooter’s location by sound but also clearly saw how the indigenous person was hit—

The indigenous person was evidently unaware of the effective range of firearms, let alone where the bullet came from.

Like a terrified hen, he dropped the fishing rod in his hand and squatted to the ground, covering his ears.

The oncoming bullet veered past his head, hitting his shoulder.

Werner watched as the indigenous person’s shoulder was torn apart by a terrifying force in an instant. The joint and skin between the shoulder blade and upper arm ripped open, and the blood mist erupted like a blooming saffron flower.

This type of wound had far greater destructive power than an ordinary lead bullet.

But for Werner, more frightening than the power of the firearm was the fact he couldn’t see the bullet’s trajectory during its flight.

Moreover, he couldn’t track the shooter by the gunfire sound.

...

Instinctively bending down, after witnessing the power of the Mini Bullet, Werner could no longer find safety behind the wooden house walls.

He kept a close eye on the direction of the gunfire, trying to see as far as possible.

yards, 80 yards, 100 yards, 150 yards, 200 yards!

The dense vegetation began to obscure his vision, and he felt he had reached the end.

Straining his eyes wide open, he found nothing.

A strong unease gripped Werner’s heart; he felt like he was fighting a ghost.

More precisely, he was being toyed with by that "ghost."

"Since the boxes and metals here are beyond my knowledge.

Then isn’t it only natural that the weapons here shoot farther, more accurately, and with greater power?"