Chapter 93: Hunter's Island (II)
Chapter 93: Hunter's Island (II)
Bu Pa swiftly ducked behind Yidao and Yijian, feigning alarm. The two immediately drew their weapons, positioning themselves protectively in front of her to face the looming threat of the muscular man.
"Let them in, Yifan", a man's voice called from the doorway behind the hulk. "They're my guests." The tone was courteous, laced with a faint accent.
At these words, Yifan lowered his pistol, stepped back to the entrance, and swung the heavy doors open with his burly arms. He then stood silently, watching the players.
[Main Quest Triggered]
A system prompt chimed just in time. All players could now see the task details in their menus: [Enter General Zaroff's Castle and listen to his explanation of the game rules.]
Feng Bu Jue's expression shifted as he read the task. Muttering softly, he murmured, "General Zaroff... Yifan... Wait—I'm a hunter... Shipwrecked here..." Suddenly, he lifted his head, eyes darkening. "The Most Dangerous Game... Richard Connell." Instantly, memories of the story surfaced in his mind like a flood.
Whenever creative blocks struck, Feng Bu Jue often relaxed by reading short stories—and collecting material for future use. These narratives remained vivid in his mind, easy to recall.
Without needing confirmation, this scenario would be a deadly "human hunt", with players cast as the prey.
After a pause, Yidao and Yijian turned to Feng Bu Jue and Si Yu for guidance. After all, when opportunities arose, everyone rushed forward. But when danger loomed? Better to let others take the risk. At the very least, consulting others first shifted blame when things inevitably went wrong.
Feng Bu Jue shrugged, sighing. "Follow the task instructions."
Yifan loomed at the entrance like a menacing statue, radiating intimidation. Yet Feng Bu Jue ignored him entirely, walking past empty-handed and stepping into the castle.
Si Yu followed closely behind, already moving forward as Feng Bu Jue did. The remaining three exchanged uneasy glances.
Clearing his throat, Yidao finally broke the silence. "Er... Let's go too."
Yijian seized the excuse. "Right. If anything happens, we can back them up."
Bu Pa nodded, trailing behind the two. One by one, they entered the castle gates.
Standing at the threshold, Yifan watched each player pass with a piercing, judgmental gaze. Once all five had entered, he silently closed the doors.
Inside stretched a vast grand hall, illuminated by bright artificial light. A wide marble staircase led to the second floor, where a tall, broad-shouldered man in a tuxedo stood rigidly, fixing his five "guests" with a calm stare.
General Zaroff had passed middle age—tall, handsome, with white hair but jet-black eyebrows and beard. His eyes remained dark and sharp. Beyond his striking features, an air of authority clung to him like a second skin.
"I'm honored—and delighted—to welcome such exceptional hunters to my home", he said, bowing slightly. "I am General Zaroff." With a practiced flourish, he gestured outward.
At the signal, Yifan holstered his gun, saluted, and moved to stand at the edge of the staircase.
"Please pardon my subordinate's rudeness, gentlemen... and ladies", Zaroff added, his measured tone making each word feel deliberate, as though every syllable had been rehearsed. "Yifan is a simple soul—a touch barbaric, I admit. Strong beyond belief, but tragically, a mute. God gives with one hand, and takes with the other..." His expression turned enigmatic as he trailed off.
"He looks like a Cossack", Feng Bu Jue remarked, already knowing the answer.
"Indeed, my friend", Zaroff replied, his smile stretching unnaturally wide, revealing gleaming teeth. "I once was."
He gestured again. Yifan stepped forward, lips moving silently as Zaroff issued unheard orders. Moments later, Yifan departed through a side corridor.
"Please, follow me", Zaroff said, descending the staircase to lead them down a dim hallway.
Minutes later, they entered a medieval-style study. Gray carpet muffled their steps. Heavy wooden furniture and towering bookshelves lined the room, filled not just with books but trophies—stuffed deer heads, zebra hides, and even a full-standing grizzly bear.
"I've read every hunting manual—English, French, Russian. My life holds no joy but the hunt", Zaroff declared, trailing a hand along his collection. "See that South African black buffalo head?"
"Imposing", Feng Bu Jue replied.
"It threw me against a tree, shattered my bones. Yet I prevailed", Zaroff said, his eyes glazing with memory.
Feng Bu Jue understood the implication immediately. This single anecdote should already convey the boss's formidable strength.
"South African black buffalo might be considered the most dangerous game in big-game hunting", Feng Bu Jue ventured, quoting the story to nudge Zaroff forward.
Zaroff paused, fixing him with a penetrating stare. "No... not the most dangerous", he finally said. Picking up a whisky bottle at the desk, he raised it. "A drink?"
"No, thank you."
Zaroff poured himself a glass, savoring it. "On this island, my domain, I've invented a new kind of hunting."
"Invented?" Feng Bu Jue asked, feigning ignorance.
"Hah... invented", Zaroff chuckled. "You wonder—how can one 'invent' hunting?" He leaned closer. "I didn't create new prey, of course. But I discovered a species that's existed all along, yet never been hunted. Not native to my island—but easily imported."
"What prey have you imported, General?" Feng Bu Jue pressed. "Tigers?"
Zaroff's smile widened. "Tigers bore me. I've hunted them to exhaustion. Tigers no longer make my hands tremble... even for a second." He withdrew a gold cigarette case, lighting a long black cigar with a silver-threaded band. The smoke carried an incense-like aroma.
"I was born for danger. But most beasts... they can't threaten me anymore", Zaroff exhaled. "God made some men poets, others kings, others beggars... and me? He made me a hunter. The greatest. The strongest." His voice darkened. "But after years of joy, I finally reached the day when hunting... lost its flavor. You understand why, don't you?"
"If you treat hunting as sport", Feng Bu Jue answered, "the game becomes meaningless when you always know you'll win."
"Precisely! I'm amazed you understand", Zaroff said, delighted. "I always succeeded because my prey were only animals—armed with legs and instinct alone. But humans fight with wit. Fairness? There was none. When I realized this... I felt pathetic. Despicable." He drew another breath from his cigar. "Then came inspiration. There exists one creature I'd never hunted—the perfect prey... because they can think."
When the explanation ended, the four others finally grasped the situation’s basic outline. General Zaroff before them was no ordinary man—he was an anti-human madman who hunted humans for sport. The task’s instruction to "listen to the rules of the game" now revealed itself: the upcoming "Hunting" rules.
"You’re serious about this, right?" Feng Bu Jue responded gravely, though they already knew this was no joke.
"I never joke about hunting", Zaroff replied. "I bought this island, built this mansion, all for the pursuit of the hunt. This place is an unparalleled hunting ground—its jungle is a labyrinth of winding paths, cliffs, and swamps, surrounded by the sea. I hunt here almost daily, and never grow tired of it."
"I find this perplexing, General", Feng Bu Jue said. "There are five of us here. Why not just stop your murderous game right here in this study?"
Zaroff laughed heartily. "Murder? No, no... This is an intellectual competition, a contest between hunter and prey." His gaze swept over the five players. "As for your suggestion..." He raised his arm, making a signal.
Yifan appeared from nowhere, balancing a tray with a steaming Turkish coffee. He placed the cup beside Zaroff and stood like a statue at his side, his piercing eyes locking onto the players.
"Once, a group of Spanish sailors landed here", Zaroff continued calmly. "I invited them to join my hunt, but they refused with hostility. Yifan tore them apart himself and fed them to the island’s animals."
Feng Bu Jue’s expression darkened. Their memory of the original novel hadn’t mentioned wild predators here. "If I may ask... what animals?"
Zaroff’s lips curled into a cruel smile. "Oh, many—pythons, coyotes, Bengal tigers... I imported quite the collection to keep the jungle lively. Humans aren’t their primary feed, of course. They mostly hunt live boars, which they catch themselves. Keeps them sharp."
Zaroff paused, his amusement growing. "Your face has gone pale, my friend."
Feng Bu Jue grimaced. "I was hoping for wrens or parrots, not predators."
Zaroff laughed again. "You have humor. Now, let me explain the hunting rules."
He moved to a window, pressing a wall button. Distant artificial lights flickered across the sea, then vanished.
"That lighthouse points to a false shipping route", Zaroff explained. "Those razor-sharp rocks lie in wait. They’ll crush any ship that passes like a nut underfoot. Your boat likely rests there now. No escape by sea."
After revealing the deadly trap, Zaroff approached another window. Activating a mechanism, he illuminated a cellar below. Giant shadows prowled in the dark, their eyes glowing green.
"Staying still is equally foolish", Zaroff warned. "My hounds are master trackers. In my collection..." His gaze swept the preserved animal specimens around the room, a menacing grin forming. "In my true collection, there are many skulls—clever prey, all, but none escaped my hounds."
Closing the window, he faced them squarely. "The rules are simple. You have five hours until dawn. Leave the castle anytime—I’ll start hunting in one hour." He set down his cigar and glass, standing rigidly. "I won’t boast, but my prey count exceeds imagination—whites, blacks, Indians, Mongols... Some were brilliant—strong, enduring, adaptable. Yet I’ve never failed."
"What if you fail this time?" Feng Bu Jue asked. "If we survive until dawn, you lose, right?"
Zaroff chuckled. "Then your efforts will earn their reward. I’ll provide a monorail sailboat and guide you to the nearest settlement." He raised his glass. "Trust my word. I vow as a gentleman, soldier, and athlete. Of course, you must agree to never speak of this..." His voice dropped. "...if you leave."
[Current task complete. Main quest updated.]
The system prompt chimed. The previous task in the game menu now bore a checkmark, replaced by a new directive:
[Escape the castle. Evade General Zaroff’s hunt until dawn.]
[Time until Zaroff’s pursuit: 59 minutes]
[Time until dawn: 299 minutes]
Alongside the task description, countdowns displayed the remaining time (rounded to the nearest minute).
Zaroff sipped his drink, offering last advice as they departed. "Avoid footprints near the castle—beginner’s mistake. And steer clear of the southeast corner’s ‘death swamp.’ Quicksand claimed one smartass and my beloved hound, Lazarus. Worst day ever."
Feng Bu Jue shook their head, turning to leave. They hadn’t expected anyone to act recklessly after Zaroff’s clear warnings—but one teammate was already plotting impulsive madness.
In an instant, Yidao surged forward, blade flashing. He slashed at Zaroff from five meters away, his weapon drawn from his satchel during their earlier castle entrance. The sudden attack shocked the other four.
Yidao’s logic was clear: this was the perfect moment to eliminate the boss. Why flee into the unknown jungle, only to be hunted exhausted? Here, Zaroff and Yifan were ordinary humans with pistols. This was a two-century-old real-world setting—no supernatural powers. Even at human limits, players’ combat strength surpassed theirs.
Crucially, Yidao possessed the "Newcomer Blade Sect" title technique—Decapitation Strike.
(End of Chapter)
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