"Where do you think you're going? Do you want to end up like those people, hanging from a tree?" The man, whip in hand, charged towards her menacingly.
She recalled the corpses hanging upside down in the trees, their eyes wide open, their bodies covered in wounds, as if they had endured something extremely cruel before they died.
However, she had no choice; she had to leave this place because she wanted to see her younger brother.
She ran forward as fast as she could, leaving the plantation gate and the menacing-looking man behind her. Her feet were bleeding from the stones and thorns of the weeds, leaving a winding trail of blood.
Plantations do not provide shoes for slaves.
"Cough cough." She coughed violently, her weak body unable to withstand such a strenuous journey.
"You're too weak! You can't even catch a little girl!"
A strong voice came from behind her, followed by heavy footsteps. She didn't dare to turn around, but she knew that her pursuers had joined her.
"ah!"
A pebble hit her in the waist, and she fell to the ground. Tears streamed down her face silently. She knew she might never see her brother again.
...
Phil Gray descended the mountain and got closer to the plantation. He hesitated whether to rush in to see if Patrick and the boy's sister were there, or to disguise himself.
With such a large plantation, it's impossible that there aren't any divinely favored individuals. If there are many high-level divinely favored individuals, I'm very likely just going there to get myself killed.
"What are you hesitating for? Why don't you just go in?" Frank revealed himself.
Phil Gray then remembered that there was a ghost hiding beside him. He smiled slightly and said, "Mr. Frank, could you go in and investigate for me?"
"Hmph, coward, do you think the two of us can't handle a plantation on a small island?" Frank said disdainfully, then disappeared again. Phil Gray knew he had agreed to his request.
It's better to be cautious. But why isn't this Mr. Frank the member of the Light of Wisdom that I imagined? Shouldn't the followers of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom be like the strategists on Earth, planning and strategizing?
After becoming undead, not only do they lose their original skills, but they also lose a portion of their intelligence.
Phil Gray's mind wandered until he saw a tall, thin man carrying a girl on his shoulders, while another fat man sang a song behind him, looking very proud and arrogant.
He reached out his greasy hand to touch the girl's body. The girl, who was being carried on his shoulder, remained motionless, her life or death unknown. Their destination was the plantation not far away.
Phil Gray hesitated for a moment, but his conscience prevailed over his idea of hiding. He threw two blades, which accurately sliced through the legs of the two men, who fell to the ground with painful cries.
He rushed forward and helped the girl up, but she was pale and unconscious.
The two men angrily got up, about to curse, when they heard a violent roar coming from the direction of the plantation, and the whole earth seemed to shake.
"An earthquake?"
Phil Gray glanced toward the plantation and saw thick black smoke rising from it, along with indistinct noises.
Something happened?
Did Mr. Frank do something?
"Who are you?" the fat man asked menacingly, while the man next to him was not paying attention and kept looking towards the plantation.
"Are you from the plantation?"
Phil Gray had barely uttered his question, before he could even receive an answer, when two brightly colored birds flew over and pecked directly at their faces.
They cried out and fell to the ground, feeling the violent tremors coming from the direction of the plantation, but the damned birds kept pecking at their faces.
“Well, the unfortunate side effect has taken effect.” Phil Gray chuckled. The plantation was in chaos, and he didn’t know what was going on, so it was a good time to fish in troubled waters.
But what about the girl?
Still unconscious, he glanced at the two men being pecked by birds. If he left her, who knew what they might do next? After thinking for a moment, he took out a few ropes from his spatial storage and, amidst the men's resentful glares, hung them from the tree.
"That's good!" Phil Gray clapped his hands, then placed the girl on a soft patch of grass, covering her with some weeds. "I'll go check on what's happening at the plantation and then come back to you."
He jogged toward the plantation, where thick smoke was billowing out, as if it were on fire.
The gate was open and no one was guarding it. He slipped into the garden. This area seemed to be planted with tea, but he wasn't sure, given his limited knowledge of plants.
"Run! This is the perfect opportunity! They're too busy putting out the fire to care about us!"
"No, no, we haven't figured out what's going on yet. If we get caught and brought back, we're doomed."
Two female voices were discussing their escape; they were probably tea-picking workers. Soon after, several men came running over in a panic.
"What's wrong? What happened over there? Is there a fire?" the woman asked.
"Run! The second young master has brought pirates to rob our plantation. The owner has been kidnapped. Let's escape if we can and let them fight amongst themselves," the man said with a laugh, then dashed towards the gate.
"Pirates?" two female voices exclaimed simultaneously, followed by the sound of them fleeing in panic.
Oh? Pirates are here to rob the plantation?
How strange! Are all the pirates here so brazen? Although plantations aren't exactly benevolent either.
Phil Gray continued walking inside, where the black smoke grew thicker and thicker, accompanied by sounds of fighting.
"Hey, you're here too. What a sight! I wish I had a pen to draw this."
Frank's voice rang in his ears.
"Are they really pirates? Did they set the fire?"
"It's not fire, it's weapons. Do you know what artillery is? I just overheard them talking and found out. The gates of the Cult of Creation are about to be breached again," Frank sighed. "Even ordinary people can use it. I don't know if this is good or bad for the Chosen Ones. Such powerful strength is comparable to our skills."
Of course he knew; nuclear weapons have been developed on Earth by now.
Phil Gray couldn't help but marvel once again at the ingenuity of the craftsmen of the Cult of Creation. In a world that values divine power so much, they were still able to develop firearms. He wondered how powerful cannons would be if they were empowered by divine power.
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