Early morning.
The sun slowly rose over the horizon.
Fiery red sunlight illuminated the grasslands of East Africa, where animals grazed with their heads lowered.
Suddenly, their keen ears pricked up and twitched.
A hurried, chaotic patter of footsteps came from afar.
"Bang... Bang... Bang..."
Gunfire shattered the tranquility of the grasslands.
The animals, who had never heard gunfire before, were still bewildered, staring warily toward the west.
Before long, a group of people appeared in sight.
Some animals no longer bothered grazing and fled in all directions.
They were none other than East African natives, some forty or fifty of them, panting as they ran this way.
It was a memory etched into their genes.
At the sight of these Black men carrying spears and bows, the animals instinctively awakened ancient memories.
Danger! It was an animal's instinct.
The Black men were not faring well either.
From the looks of them, they clearly no longer possessed their usual courage when dealing with wild beasts. They had completely lost their bearings.
They were in utter disarray, with no sense of teamwork at all, thinking only of escaping this place as quickly as possible.
A hundred meters behind them, a group of East African colony soldiers and militiamen could be seen.
A. Thor.
The sheriff of Roan Village in the Northern Plateau Region.
Mounted on a black steed, he led the village soldiers and temporarily conscripted villagers in pursuit of the native Black men ahead.
To keep his men from falling behind, he did not ride too quickly. After all, two legs could not outrun four.
Of course, the native Black men before him were an exception. A. Thor had never seen anyone capable of running like this.
A. Thor and his men had been chasing this group of Black men