Hearing the noise behind him, the native instinctively turned around to look. He was startled to see something strange rushing towards him.
He tried to dodge, but the distance of less than ten meters was not far to begin with, and with my binding rope already at its maximum power and flying at an extremely fast speed, it was too late to avoid it.
The foot-binding rope swirled, like a boomerang, heading straight for the fleeing native's feet. Once entangled twice by this rope, the fleeing person would inevitably lose their balance and fall to the ground.
Seeing that he couldn't dodge, and knowing that the local was a ruthless man, he didn't dodge at all, but instead raised his blowgun to shoot at me.
My pupils contracted when I saw this, and just as he was about to raise the blowgun, I had already slipped into the nearby bushes.
"Whoosh!"
With a soft thud, the blowgun arrow followed closely behind. Surprisingly, it didn't strike the spot where I had been standing, but rather the spot I had just moved to.
At that moment, the blowgun was embedded in the trunk of a bush less than ten centimeters from my eyes. The black arrowhead was clearly coated with some kind of poison, and the fletching was still trembling and buzzing.
Such archery skills made my scalp tingle. If it had been just a little off, I might have lost one of my eyes, or even my life.
I had thought before that this guy's skills with ranged weapons must be quite impressive.
But after he was able to adjust his shooting speed and almost kill me after I dodged, I had reason to believe that he could use his blowgun to shoot Pat down from the sky.
I'm so glad I managed to stop Pat from attacking the natives. Otherwise, in the empty sky, Pat wouldn't have been as lucky as me to have bushes to shield it from arrows.
One thing I'm certain of is that his understanding of blowguns far surpasses mine. I haven't reached that level of skill yet, where he can hit any target with lightning speed and precision.
The native frowned when he realized he hadn't hit me. But when he saw that his feet were entangled in a rope, a look of surprise appeared on his face.
He had clearly seen something that looked like a stick spinning and flying toward him, but how did it suddenly become like a rope when it reached his feet?
Taking advantage of the fact that his feet were bound by the shackles, I was not going to give him a chance to catch his breath. I immediately grabbed my Nipper machete and charged at the native.
But just as I made a move, the dark-skinned native had already replaced the arrow with a new blowgun with astonishing speed.
This time, he blew it out without hesitation, as if the blowgun was already in sync with the big shot in front of him, and he didn't even need to aim when he launched it.
Helpless, I was forced back to my original position, and at that moment, the native took the opportunity to quickly untangle the vines that were wrapped around his ankle.
It wasn't difficult to untie this rope; the indigenous man simply flipped me over twice and untied the rope that had bound my feet.
That wasn't all; he even picked up the foot bindings I made, as if he had found a treasure. He even grinned at me as he picked them up.
If this simple smile had been there before, I would have gladly accepted it. But now, this smile feels like a dull sword, not very harmful but extremely insulting, rubbing against my neck repeatedly, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable.
Having been here for so long, I've usually been in control, and I've never been so thoroughly humiliated as I am today.
"Damn natives! If it weren't for Top's safety, I would have fired a gold particle bullet at you to teach you a lesson."
At that moment, I glared fiercely at the native and uttered a string of complaints.
At this distance, the native could hear me. When he saw me speak, he was taken aback at first, but then his expression seemed to become very happy.
Seeing this bizarre scene, I couldn't help but wonder. Has this guy lost his mind? What does what I'm saying have to do with him? He can't understand me anyway, so what's he laughing about?
At this moment, the native was not in a hurry to leave. He picked up the foot binding rope that I had thrown out earlier and started muttering a long string of words in Spanish.
Anyway, I didn't understand a single word. The speed of his speech was like someone who had eaten several pounds of soybeans and roasted sweet potatoes and then farted—he just kept talking without stopping.
Seeing that the other person wanted to talk to me, I didn't waste any words. I pointed to the Top he was carrying, and then pointed to myself, indicating that I wanted what he was carrying.
However, the other party was somewhat unhappy when he saw that I was about to take all the fruits of his labor right away.
So he thought for a moment, then pointed to Top on his back, then to the sky, and then knelt down and kowtowed.
After completing the ritual, he made a throat-slitting motion on his own neck. Then he gestured, pointing half of Top's body towards me and the other half towards himself.
He looked at me with a smile, not at all treating me like an oddity. He probably thought this method was reasonable, and that I would be happy to accept it.
I first communicated with Top and the others using sign language, so I naturally understood what the native meant.
What he meant was that he should take Top back first to complete some kind of sacrificial ritual, and then kill it and give me half of the meat.
I was somewhat surprised that an indigenous person could be so open and welcoming to a stranger like me.
There's one more thing I can roughly guess: Top was probably unconscious. Because this native mentioned an important piece of information, they decided to perform the sacrifice before killing him.
I know that some primitive tribes have the custom of using live animals for sacrifice. They usually kill the sacrificial offerings only after the ceremony is completed, to show their sincerity to heaven and earth.
But this isn't about how to distribute the prey. Top is my family, and I absolutely cannot let anyone else hurt it.
If it were other prey, I wouldn't care even if he didn't share with me. After all, if I wanted to hunt animals, I would definitely be no worse than them.
I immediately shook my head in rejection of this suggestion, sticking to my previous point of view. What followed was a rather nonsensical exchange.
What I'm trying to say is that Top is my pet, my friend, and I want it back. The indigenous people, however, think I'm being greedy, wanting the whole prey without even participating in the hunt.
Seeing that I refused to compromise, the native got a little angry and then squatted down slightly, making a gesture that looked like he was defecating.
Just as I was looking at him, puzzled, he suddenly turned around and dashed into the jungle without even looking back.
"Damn it! Stop right there!"
I shouted and chased after him, raising my Nepalese kukri.
But I stopped again after chasing for only a short distance, because this time I saw not one, but about twenty native men, each holding a spear and a bow and arrow, who were looking at me with hostility.
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