"Feixiao... no, it should be Saran. Back in the tribe's concentration camp, did you ever suffer the slightest torment while enjoying such generous treatment?"
As memories of the past surfaced before her eyes, a low voice suddenly rang out. Hoolay's figure, which should have vanished, had appeared beside Feixiao at some point, his gaze fierce: "Is this how you repay us?"
"In the war slave concentration camps, the fate of you Foxians was supposed to be as honorless consumables, but in reality? How did we treat you? And how did you repay us?"
"Is this the so-called 'a drop of water in return shall be repaid with a spring' of you Xianzhou people?"
Facing Hoolay's accusations, Feixiao's expression remained calm. "What? Did I do something wrong? Didn't I establish nature reserves for you? Didn't I create Borisin protection bases?"
"It was I who saved the near-extinct Borisins from fire and water."
Upon hearing this, Hoolay laughed in extreme anger: "What a joke! Then let me ask you—where did that fire and water come from?"
"..."
Hoolay continued: "We share the same roots—why must we boil each other so harshly?! Borisins and Foxians were one and the same species from the start. Out of consideration for our genetic kinship, we spared you a path to survival. But you? Did you ever spare us?"
"Saran, we are the true family."
"The genetic similarity between Borisins and Foxians is undeniable. Of course, so are the bloodthirsty instincts and moon-madness instincts. Yet you insist on standing with the Xianzhou."
"Saran, with your current strength, you could lead the Foxians and Borisins to a brand-new peak. You could declare yourself king!"
Hoolay grew more agitated as he spoke: "From your memories, I saw that you went undercover for decades to dismantle the Borisins. But you should also know that an undercover identity often pleases neither side."
"Do you think the Xianzhou people still trust you completely now? Do you think they'll feel at ease letting a former war slave who's lurked among the Borisins for years secure the position of general? Will they allow someone with such power to slip from their control?"
Hoolay placed his claw on Feixiao's shoulder and said: "They'll only treat you the way they treated me!!!"
"For nearly a millennium, I've lived a life worse than death! I often wake up screaming from nightmares, forced to endure those inhuman treatments."
"I—"
"Enough!" Feixiao suddenly spoke up, calmly interrupting him.
She stared straight into Hoolay's eyes and said: "Hoolay, the Borisins have only yourselves to blame for your current state."
"Aren't you able to see my memories? Be patient and keep watching."
...
Just as a certain Stellaron Hunter once said: Wonderful times always come to an end. It's time to say goodbye.
A revolution swept through the Borisin tribes. The exact cause was unknown, but from internal sources, it seemed a tribal leader who had gone to Penacony for further studies had returned, claiming to have brought back a "method of reform that could revitalize the tribe."
Like a corporation, Penacony's business spanned the galaxy—even the Borisins had dealings with them. Coupled with the latter's biotechnology ranking among the top in the galaxy, cooperation came easily.
Penacony acquired high-quality edible meat from the Borisins, while the Borisins, in exchange for credits, learned management experience from Penacony.
And so, this learning planted the seeds for future calamity.
At first, the Borisins captured war slaves to obtain cheap labor. After all, these war slaves had little inherent value—killing them all would just waste weapons, so better to use them as labor and make the most of it.
But after the Borisins came into contact with the Penacony Group, it was as if they'd opened Pandora's box. In summary, it boiled down to one sentence: Money can be made like this?
Gradually, the Borisins' mindset began to shift: This isn't a joke, is it? → Wait, these employees are actually working? → We can squeeze them even more? → And they aren't rebelling? → Can squeeze more? → Awesome, awesome, I'll give it a try too.
Thus, a revolution drenched in blood and gore began. In just a few short months, the management system of the war slave concentration camps underwent comprehensive reform: the full eight-hour work system tripled, dormitories started "adding beds without adding space," rest time was cut, welfare benefits were reduced, labor income was slashed, insurance payouts were decreased, savings interest was lowered...
Any opposing Borisins and war slaves were all bundled up and shipped off to Penacony.
The Borisin tribe's GDP began skyrocketing exponentially, while the war slaves suffered endlessly, grumbling day and night.
Not only that, the Borisin management took the principle of "making the most of everything" to its extreme. Any war slaves who died of exhaustion would have their brain's memory essence preserved immediately with special technology and sold to Penacony, allowing their memory essence to continue working in dreams.
Gradually, the Borisins took on the shape of Penacony.
...
Hoolay: ...
Watching Feixiao's memories, he suddenly fell silent: What exactly had happened in the years he'd been imprisoned?
He remembered back then, he believed in survivalism. To live on the grasslands, he'd dig up roots, chew bark, eat raw meat and drink blood—nothing was off-limits. Foxians were the highest-grade food at that time.
Yet after just a few centuries, his descendants had suddenly wised up. They stopped eating Foxians and even stopped hunting prey.
The most baffling was the later years—they'd straight-up switched to playing capitalism. Was this even something people did?
"Feixiao, actually, I understand your pain. After all, in these nearly thousand years, the torment I've endured is dozens of times yours."
Hoolay: "But you simply don't understand our choices, because you've never even tried to understand the Borisins!"
Feixiao snorted coldly. "Why should I understand the Borisins? I'm human!"
Hoolay raged: "You're human? Then Borisins are human too!"
Feixiao sneered: "Borisins are human? If they're human, then why treat us with that capitalist nonsense..."
(The two erupted into a fierce argument, the scene descending into utter chaos for a time—the subtitle team had already collapsed.)
"You're just a weakling!" Feixiao roared, shoving Hoolay away with a slap. "You couldn't even save your own tribe, and now you come to disturb my Dao heart?!"
"Why didn't you step in to stop the Borisins' reforms back then, and now you accuse me of counterattacking the Borisins?"
Hoolay: "Bullshit! I wasn't even there then! That's like asking why my ultimate isn't off cooldown at level three!"
Feixiao seemed not to hear, continuing: "Those kind-hearted Borisins from back then are gone now. And the current Borisins... I will exterminate every last one!"
Hoolay: "Hmph... I can feel it. In that case, words are pointless. If you won't join hands with me, then I'll have to defeat you myself, seize this body, and save my people!"
"I am the crimson moon that will rise in the end!"
Boom—!
As Hoolay's words fell, his form began to change, ultimately mirroring like a reflection into Feixiao's appearance, his eyes sinister.
Hoolay naturally brushed back the long hair at the back of his head and said: "Come on, Feixiao. Let me see just how firm your will is?!"