No matter how much Nick disliked Owen, the audience had tipped handsomely—and that meant Nick had to give Owen more screen time.
Owen had already destroyed two drones, but with the tips he'd received, he could've bought two hundred more. Begrudgingly, Nick dispatched another drone to follow him.
Owen knew the archer's arrows were limited; he couldn't keep wasting them on something as trivial as shooting drones. This time, he used rocks.
But Nick was prepared—the rocks didn't work. Owen gave up on it and let the drone continue filming. He hadn't eaten the night before, and he didn't dare eat that roasted snake the kukri guy had cooked. So, he caught his own snake, cleaned it, and roasted it himself.
The meat smelled delicious—savory even without seasoning. Still, he had no idea if it carried coronavirus.
Nick, annoyed, cut the feed. This was a killing game show, not a wilderness survival documentary.
…
Elsewhere in the rainforest, Monica and Ina emerged from the hiding spot where they'd spent the night. They were both starving. Monica didn't have Owen's skills to hunt animals for food, but she had done plenty of homework on the Amazon and recognized many edible wild fruits. These could also stave off hunger.
Their luck held—Monica found some water vines, and she and Ina solved their clean drinking water problem.
The Amazon was truly a treasure trove. Not far along, they stumbled into a small grove of berry-bearing bushes. Monica tasted one—slightly sour, but edible.
The two began gathering the berries. Ina was ecstatic. She hadn't eaten or drunk anything since yesterday and was starving. Fortunately, she had met Monica. As they picked and ate, they discovered the grove had at least seven or eight different kinds of berries. Being just a ten-year-old girl, Ina couldn't resist trying all of them. She wandered farther and farther—eventually leaving Monica's sight.
Monica didn't notice. She was tying knots in the sleeves of her jacket, preparing to use it to carry as many berries as possible. In the absence of other food sources, these berries could last them two days.
Just as she was starting to fill the makeshift pouch, she heard Ina scream.
Monica's heart dropped. She turned back to find Ina nowhere in sight. Forgetting the berries, she sprinted toward the sound. This was the Amazon—full of deadly beasts—and Ina was only ten years old. Panic surged through her.
The screaming continued—urgent, with a sobbing tone. Monica quickly followed the noise and found Ina.
She was dangling upside down from a trap, suspended mid-air. Beneath her stood a dark-skinned, curly-haired man holding a hunting knife.
In the control room, Nick watched with glee.
A woman and a child—finally something different. The constant man-on-man violence was getting repetitive. Time to shake things up. At the same time, the man's profile appeared on screen in text:
"Black Mamba. Native Brazilian. Drug trafficker. Known for extreme cruelty. Captured by Brazilian police a month ago. Acquired by the program through 'special arrangements.' He has a deal—collect five ears and he earns his freedom."
Ina's cries echoed from above. Black Mamba stood silently, staring at Monica, a sinister grin spreading across his face. His teeth glowed white against his deep, glistening skin.
He wasn't a cartel kingpin—just a low-level runner. But men like him, who handled everything personally, had seen more filth and violence than most. Cruelty had become their default survival mode.
He never believed in the so-called deal with the producers—never planned to honor it. But the woman in front of him was a beauty, and the thought of seizing pleasure while he could filled his mind.
With a vicious grin, he advanced toward Monica. She drew a knife in defense—but it was knocked away by a blow from his hunting blade.
Monica stumbled back two steps. The man's strength was monstrous. His body was built like a gorilla—powerful and overwhelming.
Black Mamba didn't see her as a threat. Now that she was unarmed, he casually plunged his knife into the ground, removed his shirt, and approached.
Monica struck him with several punches—but it was like scratching an itch. He grinned wider. Undeterred, Monica switched tactics, employing deadly Krav Maga techniques, targeting vital points that even a gorilla couldn't withstand. But Black Mamba wasn't as dumb as he looked. He caught her mid-attack and slammed her violently to the ground.
The impact was brutal. Monica felt pain explode through her organs. As he moved in, she struggled to stand, but a sharp pain flared in her lower abdomen. Something was wrong—she might've hurt the baby.
The injury slowed her movements. In terms of strength, she was no match for Black Mamba. Her fate seemed sealed. Grinning, he bared his white teeth and began unzipping his pants, making a crude gesture.
Monica lashed out with a kick aimed between his legs—but he caught it.
He didn't expect what came next.
Monica launched herself into the air, clamping her legs tightly around his neck.
Black Mamba crashed to the ground, her thighs crushing his windpipe. He thrashed wildly, gasping for breath. But Monica held on like a vice. With her back to the ground, Black Mamba had no leverage, no angle for escape. He couldn't reach her, couldn't break the lock. His chest began to cave inward.
His movements grew weaker… slower… until finally, he stopped.
Monica checked his pulse—nothing. Her body went limp. It felt like death itself was clinging to her, and she had no strength left at all.
A long moment passed before she stirred again. She stood, disarmed the trap, and lowered Ina to the ground.
Back in the broadcast room, Nick was in disbelief. What was going on with these so-called prey? That man had casually eliminated two hunters—and now this woman had just taken out another. Nick was beginning to feel the world had turned upside down. Who were the hunters? Who were the prey?
The feed changed again. A Black man with dreadlocks was chasing a white man through the jungle. Mid-run, he hurled two throwing knives—both hitting their mark. The white man dropped instantly.
As the dreadlocked man sliced off an ear, Nick finally felt a bit of relief. This was normal. He kept repeating it to himself: the earlier events were just exceptions. They got lucky, that's all.
But the very next scene left him rattled again.
______
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