Chapter 112: Stelle: Primitives Can Knock Out the Men They Like and Drag Them Back to the Cave
"It's my first time Trailblazing in a primeval forest. I'm actually getting a little excited," March 7th said, rubbing her hands together with a conspiratorial grin. "I'll take the first watch tonight!"
"I'll join you."
"That's rare," March said, blinking at Rekka in surprise. "You're actually acting normal for once."
"That's because I'm afraid that if I fall asleep, I'll wake up to find us all inside a plant's stomach."
Nearby, Stelle had changed back into her rugged animal skin skirt. Having thoroughly tested both the Little Blue Light and the insect repellent, she confirmed that no head-sized mosquitoes dared to approach. With that settled, she was free to fully commit to her new persona as a wild primitive.
"Bro," she announced, "I discovered that you can make fire by friction."
Rekka deadpanned, "Gosh, why didn't you say so earlier."
The night was far livelier than the day—or rather, far more dangerous. All manner of creatures that had hidden underground during the sweltering daylight hours now stirred to life. From the depths of the jungle, the eerie calls and sudden shrieks of unknown beasts drifted on the humid air. Faint, ghostly glimmers flickered throughout the rainforest—the bioluminescent lures of predatory plants, animals, and fungi, all patiently waiting for their next meal.
Rekka sat by the campfire, poking at the flames with a long branch. Sparks crackled and danced upward into the darkness, casting shifting shadows across his calm face. An unnatural quiet had fallen over their immediate campsite. There was no sound of insects, only a strange, oppressive silence—the kind of deathly stillness that descends when a top predator claims a territory, and every lesser creature holds its breath in fear.
"March."
Stelle, wrapped snugly in her sleeping bag, wiggled over to March 7th's side like an inchworm.
"We're primitives now," she stated. "And primitives can knock out the man they've taken a fancy to and carry him into a cave."
"You—you—you—what are you talking about!?" March sputtered, her face flushing.
"I'm talking about primitives, of course," Stelle explained with solemn gravity. "I've read the records. That's how the rules of primitive tribes work. If you like a man, you knock him out with a club, drag him back to your cave, and then you're a family."
"That… that was how many Amber Eras ago?! And the primitives of Onnivak are long gone!"
"Oh." Stelle nodded, her expression thoughtful. "So now we can improvise and don't have to follow the old primitive rules."
"What kind of logic is that!?"
Rekka poked the fire again, the end of his branch glowing cherry-red. He spoke in a leisurely tone, "So, Stelle, who have you taken a fancy to?"
"You," she answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The wooden stick in March 7th's hand dropped to the ground with a sharp clack.
Even Rekka was momentarily stunned by her directness. "Why me?"
"Because you're the most suitable," Stelle said, beginning to count on her fingers. "March is a girl, so I can't hit her. Rozaliya and Liliya are too small; I couldn't bring myself to do it. Little Blue Light… is a bug. And Mr. Dan Heng definitely wouldn't like playing primitive house. Only you are just right."
"What do you mean, 'just right'?"
"You're not too tall or too short, not too fat or too thin, you can talk, and you can make fun things," Stelle looked at him with unnerving seriousness. "And after you're knocked out, I can take the opportunity to rifle through your pockets and see how many good things you have hidden inside."
Rekka fell silent.
Dan Heng, who was lying with his back to the campfire, gave a suspicious shudder of his shoulders, as if trying to suppress a laugh.
March 7th opened her mouth, then closed it, realizing she didn't even know where to begin her retort.
Nearby, Rozaliya, who was supposed to be sleeping, whispered to her sister, "Should the two of us also knock out the Captain and drag him away?"
Liliya considered this with grave seriousness for a second. "We might not even get a spot in line."
Decisively, March 7th snatched up a small stick from the ground, leaned over, and tapped Rekka squarely on the head with it, asserting her sovereignty.
The sound was crisp, loud, and the force was just right.
It was only then that March finally caught on. They weren't actually trying to be primitives; they were playing a game about primitives. She had actually thought Stelle was being serious.
Rekka touched the spot where he'd been hit. It didn't hurt in the slightest; March had been very careful. "So what's my status now? A knocked-out primitive?"
"Yes." March nodded firmly and pointed to the spot on the ground next to her. "A knocked-out primitive should obediently lie down next to me and wait for me to protect you. Come on, lie down now."
Rekka was silent for two seconds. Then, to her surprise, he actually moved over and lay down beside her.
March hadn't expected him to be so cooperative and scratched her head, a little flustered. "Then… I'm going to sleep. See you tomorrow."
"Eh? You're sleeping already?"
"Shouldn't a knocked-out primitive be unconscious?" Rekka opened one eye to look at her. "Or do you have a different script?"
March 7th was completely stumped.
Stelle chimed in from the side, "According to primitive rules, you should be dragging him into a cave now. But since we don't have a cave, we can skip that step. The next step should be…"
"What is it?" March asked, leaning in.
"Feeding him," Stelle said solemnly. "Primitives would feed the knocked-out man until he's full, then keep him around to do work."
Lying on the ground, Rekka felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "So I've gone from a captive to a laborer?"
"You've been upgraded," Stelle nodded seriously. "Upgraded from a simple captive to a captive with utility value."
March 7th was a bit dazed by this convoluted explanation, but as she looked down at Rekka lying obediently next to her, she felt like… it was actually quite reasonable?
In the early morning, Rekka got up and began a quiet patrol of the area around the camp. Today was for Trailblazing, and he couldn't afford to stay idle.
'Didn't they say there were no natives?'
Rekka stared at the pitiful-looking girl standing before him, feeling somewhat puzzled. She was wearing simple but exquisitely woven clothes made from some unknown plant fibers. On her head, the girl wore a large, fleshy flower that looked disturbingly like a Rafflesia…
A Rafflesia? Who in their right mind would wear a Rafflesia on their head?
It only took another moment for Rekka to figure out what she was. She was part of a Mimic Plant.
'No wonder the synesthesia beacon couldn't translate her language.'Before he could react, the massive Rafflesia lunged forward and swallowed him in a single, wet gulp.'What a strong scent…'
The girl had merely been a lure; the colossal flower behind her was the true body.
Rekka looked around, finally getting a chance to carefully examine the environment inside this "stomach." The space was much larger than he had imagined, at least five or six meters in diameter. The fleshy plant walls all around were covered in fine, hair-like fuzz that was constantly secreting a pale green liquid—likely its digestive juices.
She was probably some kind of local flora that mimicked the appearance of animals to make them lower their guard.
He reached out and knocked on the plant wall beside him. It was soft but incredibly resilient; his fist sank into the flesh, but it immediately sprang back to its original shape once he withdrew his hand.
"Good resilience. It seems it won't be able to digest me in a short time."
Rekka pulled out his Terminal and glanced at the screen; he still had two bars of signal.
[March 7th:?]
[Rekka: A Rafflesia. It's probably five or six meters tall. It mimicked a young girl to lure me over.]
[Dan Heng: …Do you need rescue?]
[Rekka: Not for now. I'm going to study how this thing digests stuff. After all, Trailblazing is about exploring the unknown.]
[March 7th: Are you serious?!]
[Rekka: Of course. I'll come out once I've figured it out.]
He put away the Terminal and began to feel his way around the inside of the plant's belly. The green digestive juices got all over him, but aside from being a bit sticky, there was no discomfort for the time being.
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