Chapter 3

Mom and Dad had already gone to sleep when I returned to the hut.

In my past life, Uncle George and the others had planned to sneak off in the dead of the night tonight.

I never expected Uncle George and the others to return in a dejected manner the following day, though. Their condition was wretched. Their exposed arms and lower legs were covered with numerous red welts from insect bites, a dense accumulation that was shocking to behold.

Uncle George and Aunt Talia looked extremely unpleasant and remained silent, obviously having suffered greatly. They had likely attempted to escape under the cover of night but ended up lost in the woods, spent the entire night struggling, and finally had no choice but to return the same way they had come.

I couldn't help but scoff inwardly as I looked at their dejected appearance. I had originally planned to lead the tribesmen to go out and track them down myself, so I hadn't expected them to return entirely on their own.

I noticed that they remained restless and kept wandering around the tribe even after returning. I accidentally overheard their conversation—they seemed to be thinking of grabbing some antiques and fleeing again to make money from them.

In the meantime, Rova appeared distressed when she saw Vincent's injuries. She pulled him to the side, pointed at the pouch on her body, and took out several medicinal herbs to apply to his wounds.

Vincent unexpectedly blew up on the spot, snapping, "What is wrong with you? Get off me! You're rubbing absolute filth all over my skin! It's so disgusting! Get the hell away from me!"

Rova, who understood a few phrases of Caldornese, was instantly distressed. She took hold of Vincent's hand, apparently intending to speak, but Vincent unexpectedly struck her with a backhanded slap.

"Get the hell away from me! I wouldn't even be in this absolute shithole if it weren't for you. It's all your fault, you disgusting savage! Get lost!"

That single slap instantly drew the attention of the whole tribe. They were already resentful of how Vincent had looked down on their food the previous day, and now, everyone closed in around him, fixing Vincent with cold, ominous glares.

Uncle George hurried to Vincent's side and blocked him with his body, glaring fiercely ahead. "What do you think you're doing? How dare a bunch of worthless savages try to lay a hand on my son! He's your chieftess' man! I'd like to see who dares make a move!"

I looked at them and thought to myself that this family was truly stupid beyond belief. They actually presumed they could run wild in this tribe by taking advantage of Rova's affection for Vincent.

They had been thoroughly spoiled by Mom and Dad, not knowing that no one in this tribe was going to coddle them the same way.

It was then that an elderly tribesman stepped forward, his fierce gaze landing squarely on Vincent. It looked as though his status was even higher than Rova's.

He waved his hand, and a group of tribesmen brought over a wooden box, out of which came a hair-raising hissing sound. He then opened his mouth and muttered a few words, as if performing some kind of ritual chant.

Vincent realized something was wrong and instinctively retreated, his gaze filled with panic as he looked at me. "What are these savages saying, Kingsley?"

I could only vaguely understand a few phrases, but I got the point. "They claim you've been cursed by a shamaness. They want to lock you in a box full of snakes for a day and a night to drive out the evil spirits."

Upon hearing that, Vincent instantly let out a terrified scream. "I'm not doing it! You have to save me, Dad!"

"I'd like to see which one of you has the guts to lay a hand on my son! He's the husband of your chieftess! You can go ahead and try if you dare!" Uncle George gritted his teeth, a grim expression on his face.

His threats did nothing to stop the advancing tribesmen, though.

He suddenly spotted me, rushed over to me in a few strides, and shoved me into that box full of snakes.