"Um... okay, you guys..."
I pointed at these natives, feeling unsure how to put it. There's a saying, something like, "If you don't court death, you won't die."
I saw it clearly just now; the wild boar was indeed wounded by the four men's wooden spears. But that was a boar weighing several hundred pounds, not a ripe persimmon on a tree.
I used to be able to use this wild boar hide as hand guards, so how could their wooden spears have broken through it so easily?
There was indeed bleeding, but this kind of injury is really nothing for a wild boar weighing several hundred pounds.
Just as I was about to explain to Dante the power of this boar hide, I saw a barely perceptible, sinister smile creep up Dante's lips.
Something's not right! This kid's up to something. How could he, a native of this area, not know how dangerous wild boar hide is?
The first thing that came to my mind was poison. That's right, their spears must have been coated with poison, otherwise how could they have brought down this beast weighing several hundred pounds?
However, I was mistaken; they did indeed coat the spearheads with poison. But it wasn't the kind of poison I usually think of.
It was a thick juice made from the black fruit that Dante used to anesthetize animals. In their understanding, this was food obtained from nature, and they shouldn't be driven too far.
But looking at how enthusiastically those people are chasing those wild boars, it seems like they're trying to wipe them out completely.
As I guessed, the largest male wild boar had only run a few hundred meters when it began to feel increasingly dizzy, and a wave of fatigue and weakness washed over it.
I rolled my eyes and looked at the male wild boar. When you encounter blood poisoning, the faster you run, the more thoroughly your body absorbs the toxin through accelerated blood circulation.
The boar could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground with a loud thud, unconscious.
Seeing that their leader had fallen, the other wild boars dared not linger. They all stepped over the male boar and continued to flee forward.
The local tribesmen, panting heavily from their pursuit, saw that the large creature had already passed out. They immediately gave each other a high five and then began to dance a grass skirt dance.
At this moment, Su Su came out again with a stern face. Su Su knew that they were just playing around. If they had used Dante's blowgun to shoot a few times in the wild boar's rear end, would that guy have been able to run so far?
Seeing Su Su's expression, the group smiled awkwardly and looked away, clearly realizing that Su Su had already seen through their little schemes.
Dante and his companions hadn't encountered such a situation in a long time, and now that they had, they naturally didn't want to take their opponent down immediately.
It wasn't until later that I learned that the cat-and-mouse game was their way of passing the time.
The group stopped paying attention to the other wild boars. If they didn't deal with this one so Su Su could cook, she would probably be much more violent than the boar when she got angry.
Just as they were about to stab the wild boar with their knives, I shouted,
"Wait!"
At that moment, everyone turned to look at me, their expressions somewhat puzzled. Wasn't now the best time to slaughter the pig?
I shook my head. Their pig-slaughtering was so unprofessional. How could they slaughter a pig on the ground like that, and they didn't even use a container to collect the blood?
In the past, there were no conditions, so we could just kill them however we wanted. But now it's different. We've already subdued the pigs, so we have to at least collect some blood.
These pig bloods contain many minerals and trace elements, and whether they are cooked directly in hot pot, made into blood tofu, or blood sausage, they are all delicious foods.
I said to Dante,
"Does the tribe have basins for holding water? We need to save this pig's blood to eat; it tastes delicious if it's properly prepared."
Upon hearing the words "delicious," Dante's eyes instantly brightened. Since it was me who said it, Dante would absolutely believe me unconditionally.
After all, I am Su Su's master. How could a master's words be false?
Dante nodded in agreement immediately upon hearing this.
"Yes, yes, we do. We use those big earthenware pots here for basins. Wait for me, I'll go get them right away."
A moment later, Dante returned trotting back, carrying a clay pot. Though somewhat crudely made, the pot was large enough to hold plenty of pig's blood.
Since we didn't have a pig-slaughtering frame, I had everyone find six short logs about one meter long, and then used sturdy vines to tie them together to make two tripods.
This tripod is somewhat similar to the kind of stool used in rural areas to peel bark from trees.
Fortunately, there were many of us, and these natives were naturally strong.
Even so, it still took us a lot of effort to lift this huge male wild boar onto the horse bench.
My father was the village's pig butcher. Whenever someone in the village needed a pig slaughtered during a festival, they would come to my house and ask my father to come and help slaughter the pig.
Back then, when a pig was slaughtered, the owner would give a red envelope containing about 150 yuan as a token of gratitude and good luck, symbolizing a prosperous and thriving year for livestock.
Back then, I liked to follow my father around to watch him slaughter pigs whenever I had free time. Our family wasn't well-off at the time.
Every time my father went out to slaughter a pig, he would always bring back a small piece of meat. Sometimes, when he encountered wealthy families, some of whom found it troublesome to process the large intestines, they would give them to my father as a favor.
However, these are mostly things we can only eat during the Lunar New Year, so my father would always take me with him when he slaughtered a pig.
I was young then, and quite adorable. Most importantly, I was always eager to help my host family with whatever chores I could manage, so the villagers were happy for me to help them.
My father did all this so that we could have that one meal of pork stew to satisfy my craving. Our family's situation only improved after my younger sister was born.
I often watched my father slaughter pigs, so I have a general understanding of the process. But the idea of a proper pig slaughter like this seems like a distant memory.
At this moment, the male wild boar was only anesthetized and unconscious; its heartbeat and other bodily functions were normal.
It must have been paralyzed; otherwise, with its size of several hundred pounds, it would have taken us a lot of effort to hold it down.
At this moment, I asked Su Su to bring over some water. Not too much, just enough to cover the bottom of the ceramic basin by half a centimeter.
Next, I asked Su Su to dissolve some salt in water. This is the key to ensuring the blood absorbs the flavor immediately. In the trade, this is also called salt blood basin.
At this moment, I don't have a butcher knife with a blood groove, but I do have a triangular spearhead that is even more effective at drawing blood.
My spear pierced the pig's neck between its two front scapulae, and a large gush of fresh blood gushed out like a spring.
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