"Hunting?"
This word, full of primitive wildness, was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, instantly sparking the interest of the other survivors.
That's right; this is a deserted island, and the one thing we aren't short on is wild animals.
In civilized society, they were law-abiding citizens, but here, for the sake of survival, hunting animals was only natural.
At the mere thought of sizzling, oily roasted meat, many people swallowed their saliva, their eyes turning green with hunger.
"Great idea! We have so many people; as long as we unite, we can even take down a tiger." A fat man wearing a torn suit shouted, waving his fist.
"That's right, we want to eat meat!"
Echoes of agreement rose one after another.
Hunger can make people blind, and it can also create a Strange sense of collective confidence.
"But the key is, who knows how to hunt?"
Alice, who had been sitting on the side, watching coldly, suddenly spoke up, pouring a bucket of cold water on them: "Who among you has hunting experience? Who knows how to track prey? Who knows how to set traps? And most importantly, who has a weapon?"
The scene instantly went quiet.
Everyone looked at each other in dismay.
Most of these survivors were tourists on vacation or business people. Letting them fight in the stock market or negotiate at the table was fine, but letting them go into the jungle to grapple with Beasts?
Strange, who made the suggestion, was the first to raise his hands, showing off his slender, perfect fingers, and said righteously: "Don't look at me. I'm the proposer, the strategist. As for the execution level, sorry, these hands are not only heavily insured, but they only know how to use delicate scalpels. Asking me to take a wooden stick and poke a wild boar is a crime against the medical profession."
The crowd's gaze turned to the seemingly stronger Banner.
Dr. Banner awkwardly shrank his neck, looking innocent: "I'm a theoretical physicist. Although I, uh, sometimes have a bad temper, in my academic career, I really didn't put any points into the hunting skill tree. I can't even bear to watch a chicken being killed."
"I have hunted lions in Africa."
A deep voice suddenly rang out from the crowd.
Everyone looked over with surprise. The one speaking was Donald, the bald middle-aged man who had been clutching his luggage bag tightly before.
"Really? That's great, you have experience."
But just as everyone looked at him with hopeful eyes, Donald shrank back again and added weakly: "However, at that time I was sitting in a bulletproof off-road vehicle, holding a fully automatic assault rifle, and there were two local guides responsible for driving... it was that kind of gun that sweeps away a whole area. Now I only have this bag."
"Tch—"
The crowd let out a disappointed hiss.
This was practically a joke, just to lighten the mood.
Just as the atmosphere reached a stalemate and everyone thought the hunting plan was going to fall through.
"I can use a bow and arrow."
A male voice, full of confidence and even a hint of arrogance, rang out.
The crowd parted, and a tall, sturdy young man with blonde hair and blue eyes stepped out.
He was wearing a tight T-shirt, his muscle lines well-defined; he was clearly the type of guy who spent all year in the gym.
"Bow and arrow?" Alice raised an eyebrow.
"That's right." The blonde youth lifted his chin, enjoying the crowd's attention.
Before anyone could ask questions, a blonde beauty on his arm couldn't wait to explain in an extremely proud and showy tone: "Don't you know? This is my boyfriend, Hughes. He is the current Captain of the National Archery Team, a true marksman."
"Captain of the National Archery Team?"
"Wow!"
Everyone cast curious looks at the blonde youth named Hughes.
Hughes enjoyed this attention. He pretended to be modest and waved his hand, but the smile on the corner of his mouth couldn't be suppressed: "It's just a hollow title. However, I am indeed confident in my archery. As long as you give me a bow, hitting a target from a hundred paces is not a problem."
But immediately after, a realistic problem arose.
Hughes spread his hands helplessly and said: "Unfortunately, Anne and I were out on vacation this time. Those professional recurve bows are regulated sports equipment, and checking them in is too much trouble, so I didn't bring one. Just as that young girl said, you can't make bricks without straw."
The crowd's eyes dimmed again.
Having the skill to slay dragons but no dragon-slaying sword; this was indeed a pity.
"I have a recurve bow."
Just then, Barton, who had been lying under the shade of a tree, resting with his eyes closed as if he were asleep, suddenly opened his eyes.
"You have a bow?" Hughes looked in surprise at this injured man with bandages wrapped around his leg.
"It's in my suitcase, over there, that brown tactical hard case." Barton pointed to a pile of debris not far away. "Dr. Banner, could you please bring it over for me?"
Banner immediately ran over and brought the heavy case over.
Barton propped up his upper body, his fingers quickly dialing the combination lock a few times.
With a click, the lid popped open.
Inside, it was neatly lined with black shock-absorbing foam. In the foam grooves lay the black bow limbs, bowstring, sight, and two quivers of special carbon fiber arrows, all disassembled into several parts.
Even someone who didn't know the trade could see at a glance how sophisticated and expensive this set of equipment was.
It had a cold metallic sheen, not looking like a piece of sports equipment, but more like a lethal weapon.
"This is a custom Hoyt hunting bow. To make checking it in and concealing it easier, I disassembled it."
While explaining, Barton endured the pain in his leg and skillfully picked up the parts to begin assembly.
Although his movements were a bit slow due to his injury, every step was extremely precise, as if it were a part of his body.
In less than a minute, a black recurve bow with a fierce design and full of a sense of power was assembled.
"Here."
Barton handed the bow to Hughes, his eyes calm.
"This is a good bow. The draw weight is high; it requires some arm strength. Be careful, don't hurt yourself."
Hughes took the bow, and it felt heavy in his hand.
An expert knows what's what as soon as they make a move.
As a national team Captain, he certainly knew his stuff.
"Good bow!" Hughes's eyes lit up, and he stroked the bow body admiringly. "This is top-tier composite material, with perfect balance. And this draw weight is at least 70 pounds, right? This isn't something an ordinary person can pull."
As he spoke, he took a deep breath, the muscles in his arms bulging, and he pulled the bowstring taut.