Starting from Robinson Crusoe

No matter how weary he was, seeing the images carved in these wood pieces inside the box, Chen Zhou still felt a comforting sensation.

Slowly putting down the statue of Lai Fu, placing it back into the groove in the wooden box, Chen Zhou sighed and closed the box.

Paul was quite curious about his partner’s change; he was about to ask when he saw Chen Zhou put the wooden box back into the suitcase just as it was, then took out the remaining strong regeneration injection and tucked it inside his coat.

"This medicine is too important, I think it’s safer to carry it on me."

Explaining to Paul, he closed the lid of the black box, moved closer to the campfire, and started to eat the cooked meat with focus.

Seeing that Chen Zhou didn’t want to discuss the items inside the wooden box, Paul didn’t ask further. He knew Chen Zhou was already very tired, so he stood up with the aid of a cane and added a few coals, which he had collected, into the campfire.

"You rest, I’ll take the night watch tonight."

Chem Zhou chewed on the hard, roasted venison, too exhausted to speak. He just nodded and, after swallowing the roasted meat, lay down next to the campfire, falling into a deep sleep within two seconds.

...

The sun rose in the east and set in the west, and soon night fell.

At the edge of the Black Forest, the campfire blazed, and the Saw-toothed Tiger brothers gathered once more, running and frolicking.

Tiger First and Tiger Second teased their younger brother who had stood up again; the warm firelight cast shadows of them.

Paul used wood to prop up the frame that fixed his leg, leaned comfortably against a tree trunk, and began carving raw venison with a knife, patiently threading the meat onto thin branches, setting them aside.

Whenever the frolicking Saw-toothed Tigers ran to his side, they’d often stretch out their heads and mischievously snatch a skewer of meat—

These skewers are their special toys, playful and edible, always causing a scramble.

The injection from the Space-Time Administration Bureau was extraordinarily effective; after receiving the injection, Tiger Third didn’t have any so-called "recovery period," freeing itself from the splint, displaying a vibrant and lively state.

Except for being slightly scrawny, its running speed, strength, and agility were comparable to its two brothers, and its appetite was very strong—among the meat Paul cut tonight, it ate the most.

When these little ones were this boisterous normally, Paul would always pretend to be angry and scold two sentences.

But tonight was an exception. Tiger Third was "resurrected," Chen Zhou returned safely; although his knee hadn’t recovered yet, Paul didn’t mind much, the only thing disappointing was the lack of strong liquor.

Thinking of this, Paul licked his lips and pulled out some alcohol from his coat—

During the wait for Chen Zhou’s return, he couldn’t control his craving and "sampled" a couple of mouthfuls, now the bottle was empty, not a drop of alcohol to be found.

To enjoy the aroma, he had to unscrew the cap, bring his nose close to the bottle’s mouth and take a deep breath, inhaling the residual scent of alcohol inside.

...

Different from the cozy atmosphere by the campfire, tens of kilometers away at the cliff top, a group of challengers were huddled behind a boulder, enduring the ravages of the cold wind.

Flint sparks flickered; one of them held up his clothes, strenuously protecting the fire; his face was somewhat pale.

Finally, after countless attempts, they managed to ignite the campfire.

Even though the flames weren’t strong yet, they brought much warmth, gradually restoring color to their faces.

One of them fished out a small bottle from his coat, holding it with both hands, bringing it to the campfire.

The lizard-like creature curled inside sensed the rising temperature, and like a hibernating animal awakening, it struggled to move its body, becoming active again.

Seeing that the lizard wasn’t dead, the man finally sighed with relief, opened the bottle’s cap, and released the lizard.

The other person deftly took out a small bottle of crimson liquid, squeezing out two drops and bringing them to the lizard’s mouth, waiting for it to finish eating before returning to the bottle, the two then collapsed to the ground in relief.

The "Scent Lizard" was an important reward obtained by the two during their last challenge, significantly contributing to their survival.

This creature is low in consumption, easy to carry, and multifunctional, especially useful for tracking prey; it can also consistently produce toxins to aid in hunting; it’s safe to say the survival of these two owes much to the Scent Lizard.

With so many advantages, naturally, it also has its shortcomings.

The Scent Lizard originates from the South American Rainforest; it inherently doesn’t adapt to the cold climate of high-latitude regions.

Coming to the tundra, even if they kept it close for body warmth, it would frequently show a tendency to hibernate; don’t mention producing toxins, even when tracking prey, it became listless.

Of course, hibernation is a minor issue; what they fear most is the extreme cold killing it.

Tonight’s hurried fire setup was half for their warmth and half for the Scent Lizard.

The duo lacked direct combat skills, being particularly adept at stealthy attacks; concealing themselves to deliver surprise assaults.

In this expansive tundra with few obstacles, losing the Scent Lizard would significantly weaken their combat capability.

And their tracking ability largely relies on the Scent Lizard; in their minds, not even airdropped supplies were as important as this unique little lizard.

...

As the firelight flickered, the two whose body temperatures gradually rose were roasting "bread" made from plant seeds, moss, lichen, and some dry grass leaves mixed together, discussing their unsuccessful tracking earlier today—

Since discovering the traces of that vile thief at the supply drop center and recording his scent with the Scent Lizard, they had confidently set out, believing they could beat the other two groups of challengers and be the first to find the thief and retrieve the supplies.

Their confidence wasn’t without basis.

Among the three groups of challengers, they maintained the best condition while possessing the Scent Lizard, an assistance beyond ordinary imagination.

Added to this was the fall of the thief from a height, visibly injured.

If it were tracking a strong and healthy challenger, they might worry about losing the trail.

But now, all signs indicated the vile thief fell from a height of eight meters, sustaining at least one external injury; a person like that, how could he maintain speed and escape their grasp.

Yet the unexpected happened as it did.

Chasing from night until morning, then from morning until night.

The two set out from the center of the Black Forest, trudged diligently, circled a massive loop to reach the cliff base.

By then, the Scent Lizard was already struggling to determine the scent’s direction; they guessed the thief might have climbed up from there, entered the tundra, and fled, thus ventured climbing up.

But naturally, the trail was cut off, as though the person vanished into thin air, leaving no scents or footprints.

So they developed a new hypothesis—

The thief was injured, perhaps couldn’t climb the cliff, came to the base to mislead them, and surely went another way.

With this thought, they descended the cliff again, moved forward along the cliff base, trying to reconnect the trail.

Little did they realize, that supposedly "injured" thief was capable of diving into the Black Forest with his injuries and fleeing for tens of kilometers.

At such a distance, the Scent Lizard was entirely ineffective.

By the time the sun was about to set, they finally realized they had completely lost the chance to find the supplies.

With harsh winter approaching, unable to retrieve the supplies, the two dared not linger, choosing to climb back up the cliff and prepare to head south before night fell thoroughly.

Many things didn’t go smoothly; coupled with the nightly howling winds plunging their mood into a slump, the usually fragrant roasted bread tasted increasingly unpalatable.

Curling up, trying to tuck into the boulder’s shade to avoid the chill wind as much as possible, he bit fiercely into the hard roasted bread, about to discuss who would keep the first-half watch tonight when he saw his companion suddenly stand up, pointing in the distance, speaking muddledly with a mouthful of crumbs.

Rising quickly, this man gazed in that direction, seeing that amid the pitch-black night, two rods of fire extended by the wind were moving across the tundra.

The flames drag long tails, like two large paintbrushes, directly coming towards them.

The flickering firelight cast reflections on the fire carriers.

These figures were extraordinarily tall, like two slowly advancing walls, sending chills down one’s spine at just a glimpse.