Because they are extremely cunning and like to ambush their prey from behind, they are virtually impossible to guard against.

If you ever make them suffer a loss, no matter what species you are, they will try every means to retaliate.

If it's a small population, it's fine, but if you encounter a large population of dozens or hundreds of Sand Beasts...

In this rainforest, aside from that forbidden area in the west that they dare not venture into, the only other creatures that could threaten their safety are probably the giant ants and other unusual freaks.

...

At that moment, the indigenous chief gestured to me, indicating that they needed some time to find the animals that were fighting.

I just smiled at this; tracking prey doesn't need to be so complicated. So I waved to the leader and pointed to myself, meaning I could do it.

The chieftain, seeing this, naturally dared not question my decision. Instead, he nodded with anticipation in his eyes, since he had never witnessed how the gods hunted.

I glanced at Pat, who was squatting and dozing in the indigenous basket, and a smile appeared on my lips. This guy wasn't shy at all.

Of course, I can't take action myself, otherwise what would be the point of leveling up my first skill, Eagle Eye?

I immediately woke Pat up from the basket and used my first skill to give Pat a command.

"Pat, patrol!"

At my command, Pat took off directly from the edge of the basket.

This action completely stunned the unsophisticated natives. They had to admit that this deity was extraordinary; even the unruly birds they saw could be so obedient.

The native who had fought Pat and even had his arm scratched looked at him with utter admiration, almost kneeling down again.

They had seen harpy eagles before, but usually the ones they saw had their feathers plucked, were strung on sticks, and had been exposed to the smoke of the campfire. They never saw one performing such a heroic act.

Pat had already reached high in the air, much to the astonishment of all the natives.

At this moment, Pat's field of vision is approximately 340 degrees.

Compared to the human's approximately 180-degree field of vision, the harpy eagle has a much wider field of vision.

This allows them to observe their surroundings over a wide area while flying at high altitudes, in order to spot prey and detect danger.

Soon Pat brought good news: a hawk's cry rang out, and Pat's figure hovered over an open mountain area less than two miles away from us.

"Found it! Let's go!"

I didn't care whether the locals understood me or not. Anyway, my food reserves were completely looted today, so how could I not go and loot some more to make up for my losses?

The natives were taken aback when they saw that I was even more anxious than they were. Did even gods enjoy robbing people?

But they soon discovered that I had already run far away with my spear, and seeing this, all the Tu tribes followed behind me and ran towards that mountainous area.

The distance wasn't too far. I had only run halfway when I heard a mournful cry from the prey. Clearly, the predators had succeeded in their hunt.

Wow! Well done. Hearing that sound is as exciting as if I were the one who personally killed the prey, not the predator.

Thinking of this, I quickened my pace. But the natives were faster than me; they had already overtaken me and were now ahead of me.

This inevitably makes me, as a "deity," feel a little embarrassed, but I don't care about that now.

Judging from today's events, these natives haven't hunted anything worthwhile yet. If they can't get some food to take back before dark...

Forget about being treated to lavish meals; even getting a full meal would be a huge problem for me.

Don't be fooled by the documentary portraying these indigenous people as easily handling large predators, hunting animals like antelopes and zebras with ease.

The reality of indigenous life is far more arduous than what is recorded; they spend most of their time in a state of semi-starvation, much like other wild animals.

Occasionally, they might catch some large animals, but the women in the tribe would dry the meat and eat it with local foods like cassava, just to barely make ends meet.

Even so, every year, many indigenous people in the biodiverse land of Africa still starve to death due to lack of food.

How could anyone be like me, after hunting my prey, I would pick and choose and eat until I couldn't eat anymore?

They probably only dare to dream about such things.

Soon we saw the battle taking place in the mountains. The predators were the same ones I had just encountered before; they were two adult Destruction Saber-toothed Tigers.

Sagittarian tigers usually hunt alone, but these two appear to be brothers from the same family.

Some predators that have just been kicked out of their homes and entered society do indeed gather together to hunt in order to make up for the disadvantages caused by their lack of hunting experience.

They were clearly lucky today. A fully grown wildebeest had its lungs pierced by two saber-toothed tigers with fangs like scimitars, and it looked like it was barely breathing and wouldn't survive.

However, they were not so lucky, because a large herd of grumpy wildebeest had gradually surrounded them.

Although these wildebeest may not be the most intelligent, they are fortunate to be numerous and united. Upon hearing the distressed cry of this wildebeest, they all charged towards it.

The natives' expressions changed immediately; they were well aware of the temperament of these wildebeest.

These creatures, who are quick to fight and risk their lives at the slightest provocation, don't just have those long, sharp, sword-like horns on their heads for show.

Even a ferocious beast as powerful as a saber-toothed tiger would likely meet a demise if it were to strike it.

Today, I thought I'd stumbled upon a lone wildebeest and could have a delicious meal. But instead, a whole herd showed up, which really put the saber-toothed tiger on edge.

They arched their backs, crouched on the ground in an aggressive manner, and let out low, threatening roars at the approaching herd of wildebeest.

But no one cared whether it was the overlord or not. The wildebeest paused for a moment before approaching the saber-toothed tiger again.

"&*#**&..."

At that moment, the local leader started shouting at everyone in a string of gibberish, though I didn't understand what he was saying.

But you can still tell what he's trying to say, because everyone is looking for trees to climb up, and a big battle is probably coming down soon.

I'd already experienced it once before, so I didn't need their reminders. You can't fight these lunatics head-on, because our bodies can't withstand the ravages of their sharp horns.