"Hunting?"
This word, brimming with primal wildness, was like a stone tossed into a calm lake. It instantly rippled through the other survivors, sparking their interest.
It made sense. This was a deserted island, and the one thing it certainly wasn't lacking was wildlife. In civilized society, they were all law-abiding citizens. But here, killing animals for survival was just the natural order of things.
At the mere thought of sizzling, fat-dripping roast meat, many of them swallowed hard. Their eyes practically gleamed with hunger.
"Great idea! There are so many of us. If we band together, we could take down a tiger!" A fat man wearing a shredded suit waved his fist and shouted.
"Yeah, we need meat!"
Voices of agreement rose one after another. Hunger breeds blindness, but it also breeds an inexplicable sense of mob confidence.
"But the key question is, who actually knows how to hunt?"
Alice, who had been sitting off to the side watching with cold detachment, suddenly spoke up, pouring a bucket of ice water over their enthusiasm.
"Who here has any hunting experience? Who knows how to track prey? Who knows how to set traps? And most importantly, who has a weapon?"
The scene instantly fell dead silent. Everyone exchanged nervous glances.
The vast majority of these survivors were tourists or businessmen on vacation. Asking them to cut throats in the stock market or outmaneuver rivals at a negotiation table was one thing. But asking them to wrestle wild beasts in a primeval jungle?
Strange, the one who had proposed the idea, immediately raised both hands. He displayed his long, perfectly manicured fingers and spoke with absolute self-righteousness.
"Don't look at me. I'm the one who suggested it, which makes me the strategist. As for the execution phase? I'm afraid these hands are insured for an astronomical sum and are strictly reserved for handling delicate scalpels. Asking me to go poke a wild boar with a wooden stick would be a crime against the medical community."
The crowd's collective gaze immediately shifted to Banner, who looked to be the most rugged among them.
Dr. Banner shrank his neck awkwardly, looking entirely innocent.
"I'm a theoretical physicist. And while I, uh, sometimes have a bit of a temper, 'hunting' was never unlocked on my skill tree during my academic career. I can't even stomach watching a chicken get slaughtered."
"I've hunted lions in Africa."
A deep voice suddenly rang out from the crowd. Everyone looked over in pleasant surprise. It was Donald, the balding middle-aged man who had been tightly clutching his luggage bag since the crash.
"Really? That's fantastic, you have experience!"
But just as the crowd looked at him with desperate hope, Donald shrank back and weakly added, "But at the time, I was sitting inside a bulletproof SUV holding a fully automatic assault rifle. And I had two local guides acting as beaters... Right now, all I have is this bag."
"Booo—"
A wave of disappointed jeers echoed through the crowd. This was a complete joke, nothing more than a mood lightener.
Just as the atmosphere ground to a halt and everyone assumed the hunting plan was completely dead in the water, a new voice spoke up.
"I know how to use a bow and arrow."
The male voice was brimming with confidence, carrying an unmistakable trace of arrogance.
The crowd parted as a tall, muscular, blond young man stepped forward. He wore a tight-fitting T-shirt that clearly outlined his sharply defined muscles. He looked exactly like a fitness model who practically lived at the gym.
"A bow and arrow?" Alice raised an eyebrow.
"That's right." The blond man tilted his chin up, soaking in the attention of the crowd.
Before anyone could voice their doubts, a stunning blonde woman clinging to his arm eagerly chimed in. She spoke with immense, showy pride.
"Didn't you guys know? This is my boyfriend, Hughes. He is the active captain of the national archery team. He's a genuine sharpshooter."
"The captain of the national archery team?"
"Whoa!"
Everyone instantly cast curious and impressed glances at the blond man named Hughes.
Hughes basked in the admiration. He waved his hand in a display of faux humility, though he couldn't hide the smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"It's just an empty title. However, I am indeed confident in my archery skills. If you give me a bow, I can hit a willow leaf at a hundred paces without issue."
But then, the harsh reality of the situation reared its ugly head.
Hughes spread his hands and sighed helplessly. "Unfortunately, Annie and I were just out on vacation. Professional recurve bows are classified as restricted sports equipment. Checking them in is far too much of a hassle, so I didn't bring mine. Like the little girl said, even the cleverest housewife can't cook without rice."
The hope in everyone's eyes dimmed once again. Possessing the skill to slay a dragon but lacking the sword to do it was truly a tragedy.
"I have a recurve bow."
At that very moment, Barton—who had been lying in the shade of a tree with his eyes closed, seemingly asleep—suddenly opened his eyes.
"You have a bow?" Hughes stared in astonishment at the injured man with the bandaged leg.
"It's in my luggage. Right over there, the brown tactical hardshell case." Barton pointed toward a nearby pile of debris. "Dr. Banner, could you do me a favor and bring it here?"
Banner immediately jogged over and hauled the heavy case back.
Barton propped himself up on his elbows and rapidly spun the dials on the combination lock.
With a sharp click, the case popped open.
Inside, precisely fitted into black shock-absorbing foam cutouts, lay the disassembled components of a sleek, black bow. It contained the riser, the limbs, the bowstring, a high-end sight, and two custom quivers filled with carbon-fiber arrows.
More PS = More Chapters!