Chapter 100: Hunter's Island (IX)
Chapter 100: Hunter’s Island (IX)
Feng Bu Jue swept the area with his flashlight first, confirming no traps were nearby before stepping closer.
The corpse had decayed into a human skeleton. Judging by the bones, it had been a man—his remains clearly disturbed by beasts postmortem, possibly dragged here from elsewhere. Determining his exact death site was impossible.
The skeleton’s clothes had been torn apart during the scavenging. Feng Bu Jue crouched down, inspecting the tattered pockets before retrieving a small iron box.
The box was about a finger’s thickness, roughly the size of a photograph—perhaps once used to store one. It had rusted slightly, expected in the damp environment. Feng Bu Jue withdrew a knife, prying the lid open along its edges.
Inside, no photo lay. Instead, a pencil and a folded piece of paper filled the space.
[Name: Deceased’s Message]
[Type: Plot-Related]
[Quality: Worn]
[Function: Unknown]
[Can Be Taken Out of Scenario]
[Background: Finding this does not mean you must read it. Once you see its contents, everything will change.]
The item description caught his eye first. Reading the background note, Feng Bu Jue sensed something amiss. This dead man’s message seemed crucial—yet the warning claimed reading it was unnecessary. Why?
“Could it… alter the storyline?” Feng Bu Jue muttered, hesitating. “Should I read it? Now that I’m the only player left in this scenario, I’ve got a 90% chance of clearing it if I play it safe for the next two hours. But if this… triggers some disaster…”
Most would abandon it. Yet Feng Bu Jue’s weakness was precisely such mysteries. Tempting him with a beautiful woman? He might resist. But dangle an unsolved enigma and demand he not read it? He’d tear it open barehanded.
His reading compulsion flared, his mind itching. Unless someone like Si Yu had snatched the paper away, he’d never resist.
Unfolding the page, he lit it with his flashlight. The text wasn’t in Chinese—it was Russian.
Feng Bu Jue’s stomach dropped. A chilling realization bloomed, solidifying into certainty within minutes.
While this mystery novelist was well-read, Russian was gibberish to him. Fortunately, the system had a built-in translation function, and the menu now displayed the Chinese version.
---
If you’re reading this, I’m already dead. Good. For me, this is liberation. I deserved it.
My name is Zaroff, this island’s true master. You may have already encountered another man claiming to be General Zaroff in the castle—or perhaps not. Either way, know this: he’s an impostor. His name is Lei Ensi Fude.
I created a hunting game—hunting humans on this island. Once, Fude was my prey, the only one to survive my hunt. I remember every detail of our duel. He was exceptional, crafting Malaysian trappers and Burmese tiger traps with just a knife. I wasn’t bad myself—keeping the upper hand, even letting him escape deliberately a few times.
Yet he endured the third day, winning our match. I lost, but I felt no bitterness. It was a thrilling hunt. As agreed, I let him rest, gave him food and water, and sent him away on a monorail sailboat.
I never expected to see Fude again. But six months later, he returned.
He told me leaving the island made him nostalgic for the game. Other pleasures and sports left him numb. He wanted to join me.
I refused, ordering him off the island. But he begged, offering to be my prey again.
I thought myself mad, but in that moment, he was the true lunatic.
We hunted again. This time, I vowed no mercy. If he survived three days, I’d make him my hunting partner.
I never imagined he’d succeed again—even easier than before. I couldn’t fathom how. For three days, he vanished from my sights. He seemed to hear me from miles away, fleeing faster than I could approach. His tracks revealed ape-like agility. Worse, he seemed to need no food, waste, sleep, or rest.
On the third day, I released three hounds to hunt him. Later, I found only three dead dogs—none killed by traps or blades. Someone had strangled them barehanded.
After that, Fude joined me in hunting. Over time, his behavior grew erratic. He demanded I capture more people, as frequently as possible. I warned him—too many maritime accidents would draw official suspicion. He was insatiable, a greedy addict.
He modified the ship traps. He imported beasts from every corner. I warned they’d endanger us both. He didn’t care. Fude had gone mad—tenfold more than me, tenfold more evil.
Nine nights ago, I tried killing him in his sleep. Not a gentlemanly act, but I had no choice. I created this demon—I must destroy it.
When I crept into his room, he stood behind the door. Waiting. Grinning menacingly.
Yifan, my most loyal subordinate, tackled me from behind, subdued me, and threw me into a cell. He would never betray me. I’m not superstitious, but I can only believe Fude controlled him via some evil curse. It’s the only explanation.
Now I’m the prey. For nine days, Fude has known my location. He won’t kill me. Won’t come for me. Won’t let me near the castle or escape. He wants me torn apart by animals, by these “Prey”—a cruel irony for a proud hunter like me.
On the fourth day, I encountered a dying sailor mauled by a tiger. He told me a man claiming to be General Zaroff forced him into a game. Then I knew—I’d been replaced.
Now, it ends. I’m battered, feverish, sleepless for days. If death must come, let it be swift and merciful.
I write this not to confess, not to atone. Only to warn whoever reads this:
Fude is no man. He is an unknown embodiment of evil.
Run. Flee as far as you can. Even drowning in the sea is better than staying on this island.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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