Bartholomew Bear

Pirates had set their sights on the treasures of God Valley, while the Marines were going to protect the Celestial Dragons on the island. Though their reasons differed, countless ships were heading toward God Valley.

But none of this hindered what was happening on God Valley.

The Celestial Dragons' hunting event continued as scheduled. Even after the high-ranking officials leading the event received the news, they had no intention of stopping. In their eyes, it was nothing more than a trivial matter.

The squad sent to capture the Buccaneer Tribe slaves had not returned, yet the Celestial Dragons did not send anyone else after them. In their eyes, slaves could not possibly escape this island. Letting such a high-value target get away early would instead add some fun to the competition.

More precisely, the Celestial Dragons had already begun releasing slaves one after another, telling them to hide as well as they could and making their game even more entertaining.

Meanwhile, Oran and Ivankov's group began to grow. The first to join them was the Buccaneer Tribe slave who had escaped earlier—Bartholomew Bear.

Though he looked like the biggest man there, he was actually the youngest of them all. Oran had even put some thought into connecting him to the future timeline, where he would become Tyrant Bear, one of the Shichibukai.

Like the Lunarian tribe, the Buccaneer Tribe had been exterminated by the World Government because of their race. The legend of Nika was also passed down among the Buccaneer Tribe, making them an even greater thorn in the World Government's side.

When Bear was born, someone at the hospital leaked information about his blood, leading the World Government's agents to his doorstep. From then on, Bear and his family became slaves. His parents died one after another, and Bear himself was deemed a slave needing disposal by the Celestial Dragons before being sent here with the others.

"Your recovery is truly ridiculous, Bear. Is your body already fine?"

Oran looked at Bear, who seemed completely unaffected, and could not help marveling at the constitution of his race. He had been knocked unconscious by a heavy blow to the back of the head, then beaten with clubs, yet he could move freely again only minutes later.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. You're a good person."

Ever since his father had been killed by a Celestial Dragon for being too noisy, Bear could not remember the last time anyone had called him by name. Slave and numerical designation were what people called him.

"A good person... That isn't really a word that suits me. All right, everyone, you should all understand the situation now, shouldn't you?"

Bear's sudden assessment made Oran think he was somewhat naive. He then looked at the people around him. Their group had now grown to more than twenty people.

Most were slaves, while a small portion were bewildered natives of God Valley.

Just as there had been people in Bear's previous group who only wanted to wag their tails and beg the Celestial Dragons for mercy, there were naturally those willing to resist and flee. With the opportunity right before them, they would inevitably make different choices.

Oran was treating some of their wounds. Besides being a scientist, he also had considerable knowledge of medical research. When it came to matters involving drugs and Prosthetic Body modifications, Oran did not trust others to handle them, so he always did them himself.

Treating these people was partly to make the coming plan go more smoothly, and partly as a gesture of goodwill.

Given the influence of first impressions, they would theoretically be more willing to cooperate.

Meanwhile, Ivankov was explaining the specific circumstances here to them.

"Plunder resources, drive out the natives, and play a little killing game while they're at it.

There are roughly a hundred thousand people on this island. According to the Celestial Dragons' plan, every last one of them will be slaughtered in three weeks! Hard to believe? But that is reality!

You're very lucky today. We have one... no, two ways to survive! Make your choice, everyone. Will you join us, or what?"

Ivankov felt that he had made the situation perfectly clear, yet some people still held inexplicable fantasies about the Celestial Dragons.

"N-No... Didn't they say that if we endure these three weeks, we'll regain our freedom?"

Ivankov's words plunged the small group around them into silence. After a brief quiet, a middle-aged man was the first to voice that question.

"You actually believe that nonsense?! This isn't the first time the Celestial Dragons have done something like this. Throughout history, not a single person has ever survived!"

We're going to kill every last one of you, so obediently go be targets for us—of course the Celestial Dragons would never say that.

Instead, they chose to tempt these people with freedom.

Though they killed everyone every time, that also meant there were no witnesses. Once the event ended, they only needed to say a few things to the remaining slaves in the Holy Land and present a few fabricated examples to give the slaves more hope for the future, perhaps even make them look forward to such events.

Giving people hope, then destroying it with their own hands—the Celestial Dragons greatly enjoyed that feeling.

"How could this be..."

"It's simple. Between a lifeless fish floating belly-up and a fresh fish full of energy, which one would you rather eat?

Only by giving you something to hope for can they make you run for your lives. This is what those people call a game, but there is no way to win it. Breaking free from the rules is the only way out.

If you're willing to believe the Celestial Dragons' claims, then go find a corner and hide by yourself."

By then, Oran had finished bandaging the last person's wounds and took over from Ivankov.

"We've explained the situation to all of you. Does anyone want to leave now?"

After waiting a moment and seeing that no one spoke, Oran understood what they wanted.

"Then it's simple. Our goal now is to survive, so regardless of age or gender, everyone must contribute something. Tell us what you're good at. We need to prepare for what comes next, and I don't want anyone holding us back at a time like this."

Oran then displayed the Hex Gate model in his hand once more, proving that the plan was feasible.

Humans were social creatures. When everyone was at a loss, Oran gave them a direction, naturally becoming the one to lead them down that path.

The natives of God Valley knew the terrain better. After they gave a rough overview of the area, the group split up and began moving separately.

Ivankov and Ginny headed to the shipyard they had contacted earlier to bring some craftsmen to the agreed meeting point.

The ships were a special matter, and Oran had no intention of exposing them directly to everyone.

Oran, meanwhile, led others toward a nearby grain depot to stockpile food for emergencies.

Before splitting up, Oran called Ivankov and Ginny aside. As the first people Oran had met, he trusted them somewhat more.

"Ivan, even though I gave you a Net Gun, that gun can fire different kinds of ammunition too. Sometimes, rope nets won't scare off the enemy. When necessary, you'll be willing to pull the trigger, right?"

"Hee-haw, leave it to me. I won't hold back when the time comes."

Ivankov accepted the special ammunition Oran handed him, and Oran immediately took several purple syringes from the storage box...