Chapter 491: Chapter 31: The Child’s Whereabouts

The tribal fear of the Demon is cultivated from childhood, etched deep within their genes.

The tribe is in a state of turmoil, its Leader ruthless, with food production declining day by day, leaving everyone in fear.

On top of that, the mysterious disappearance of the old Priest and the difficulty of the new Priest to manage the situation has led to rumors of "the Leader being bewitched by the Devil" or "the Leader provoking the Celestial God by collaborating with outsiders" circulating privately.

At such a time, to be pinned down in the dead of night by an oddly dressed creature, speaking the tribal language but looking inhuman, nearly made the native inside the small hut faint from fear.

Not to mention he had no power to resist Sunday; even if he tried his best, he couldn’t be faster than Sunday’s knife.

Living in such a secluded area, far from the center of the tribe, didn’t help his situation.

Here, even if he could scream for help, by the time his companions heard the call and arrived, he would already be cold.

...

Unable to discern Sunday’s background and with a knife to their throat, the native and his newly arrived spouse obediently walked out of the hut.

Seeing the other two outside holding strangely shaped Longbows, their thought of escaping faded even more.

Kulu coldly watched the native woman with whom he had a child, indifferently pulling out two hemp ropes, binding their hands tightly behind their backs.

He then took out two pieces of cloth from his backpack, stuffing them into their mouths to prevent them from alarming other natives in panic.

Throughout the process, the two with knives to their throats dared not speak or struggle, for fear of losing their lives at any careless moment.

If it were natives from other tribes, they would never have been so compliant.

To the natives, the night itself was filled with terrifying unknowns, and these three people’s attire, which was completely different from their own, along with their bizarre weapons, cast a mysterious veil over them.

It was their awe of the unknown that stripped them of their courage to resist.

...

Seeing Kulu had tied them up, Sunday gestured and said in a deep voice, "Go."

With that, he led the way for Kulu and Kosu to escort the captives to the beach.

There, they could quickly extract more information from these two captured "tongues" and choose the best spot for an assault, ensuring smoother upcoming operations.

The native man and woman had no idea where these three emissaries of the Demon would take them.

In the dim moonlight, without Night Vision Goggles, they couldn’t make out the faces of the three. Based on height or demeanor, their own emaciated forms were no match for the trio.

As they walked, getting farther from home and the tribe, the two of them found a sense of relief—

At worst, they would die. The current Leader was no longer the past Leader. After the tribe ceased to expand, they could no longer live a relatively comfortable life off war spoils, instead being overshadowed by the brutal Leader.

Rather than living in constant fear or risking their lives to swim across to an unknown tribe, hoping but unsure of a better life, death seemed like a release.

Yet, if killed and eaten by the Demon, could they still ascend to the Celestial Kingdom after death, where they could eat their fill without working?

They could no longer recall.

...

Before escorting the captives, Kulu deliberately looked into the small hut, but he couldn’t find any trace of his child.

After all, having grown up in the tribe, just a little reflection made him think of several grim outcomes—

Killed, starved, eaten...

Among many endings, direct death was perhaps the best.

This unpromising father, having accidentally reached the dreamt-of "Celestial Kingdom," despite all his efforts, now returned only to find his child had fallen into Hell.

Even without confirmation from the native woman, Kulu understood that the odds were overwhelmingly against his child’s survival.

Because of this suspicion, he didn’t speak and reminisce with his child’s mother; instead, he shoved angrily, applying enough force that he nearly knocked the native woman to the ground several times.

As for the root cause of all these grim outcomes, that male native, he had it even worse.

Were it not for the ongoing mission requiring prioritization, and Sunday’s supervision, Kulu would have wrung that guy’s neck.

...

Kulu said nothing, and naturally, the native woman couldn’t recognize this spotted creature with protruding eyes on its head as her former mate.

She submissively followed the trio to the beach.

This place was far from the tribe; even loud shouts wouldn’t disturb the natives.

The sound of the tide and wind would drown out most unusual noises, and fatigue would plunge the natives into deeper sleep, making even interrogations or executions hardly noticeable.

...

Seeing Kulu’s eager expression, Sunday gave this silent subordinate a chance, indicating he could remove the cloth from the native woman’s mouth and ask what he wanted to know.

Seeing this, Kulu softly thanked Sunday, then roughly yanked the cloth from the native woman’s mouth, removing his Night Vision Goggles and steel helmet.

"Do you still recognize me?"

He asked in the tribal language.

The native woman, tense and frightened, did not immediately recognize the voice as that of her mate, with whom she had shared alternating rainy and dry seasons under the same roof.

Only after Kulu repeated himself did she widen her eyes in disbelief.

This voice, both familiar and strange, had vanished for a long, long time, since he departed with the party searching for the old Priest, never to be heard again.