The Rise of a Primitive Civilization

Luo Chong crept forward, crouching and hiding behind bushes as he approached the terror bird. Crawling was out of the question—being naked, he feared scraping his skin raw, which underscored his urgent need for clothing.

Unaware of Luo Chong's presence, the terror bird continued to feast on the leader's corpse, oblivious to the danger from the former killer of men now targeting it.

Luo Chong halted about fifty or sixty meters away from the bird. He had no intention of getting any closer. Competing in speed against the terror bird on open ground would be foolish; not even humans could outrun ostriches, much less this massive predator. All he needed was to draw it closer, as the bola was intended for long-range use.

He readied his bola, finding the midpoint of the snake skin rope, and quietly stood up. He began to spin the bola quickly, the centrifugal force pulling the rope taut as the stones whirled. The noise immediately caught the bird's attention, its head lifting to locate the disturbance.

At the cave entrance, the women and children watched, terrified, thinking Luo Chong had lost his mind. "He's not even as tall as the bird's legs; what is he doing?" they muttered in fear.

"Hey, stupid bird, come over here!" Luo Chong taunted, rapidly swinging the bola with increasing speed. The snake skin stretched straight, resembling the staff of Sun Wukong.

With a harsh cry, the terror bird charged towards Luo Chong. Its towering three-meter height made it a formidable runner, and it quickly halved the distance between them. Yet Luo Chong stood his ground, continuing to swing the bola.

The children at the cave's entrance screamed in fear, covering their eyes yet peeking through their fingers, torn between fear and curiosity. The pregnant women yelled for Luo Chong to run.

Luo Chong didn't flee. As the bird closed in to about 30 meters, he hurled the bola forward. The bola, like a fan with a broken axis, spun through the air and wrapped around the bird's legs. The force of the spinning stones tightened the snake skin, binding the bird's legs together. Just ten meters from Luo Chong, the bird lost balance and fell, sliding another five meters before stopping right in front of him.

The fallen terror bird squawked wildly, flapping its small, useless wings, unable to stand.

The women and children at the cave entrance were dumbfounded, mouths agape in disbelief at what they had just witnessed. Had they been modern humans, they surely would have exclaimed, "Holy crap, did that actually work?"

But Luo Chong knew it wasn't time to celebrate yet. He quickly moved behind the bird, securing the bola by tying a knot around its legs to prevent it from breaking free. He had captured a terror bird alive.

If his brothers were here, they'd surely have cheered, "Boss, you're so badass!" But thinking of his current appearance, Luo Chong lost any desire to show off. He was practically naked, hardly the picture of a hero.

After securing the area, Luo Chong returned to the cave entrance, picked up a large rock he had been using earlier for basket weaving, and prepared to end the bird's life with it. There was no point in keeping a carnivorous giant bird that could not be tamed; it was better to kill it for meat.

The two braver boys, seeing the bird incapacitated, also picked up rocks and followed Luo Chong. Without speaking, Luo Chong nodded to them, signaling them to follow his lead. Together, they approached the bird's head.

The bird continued to squawk and struggle, flapping its wings and stretching its neck in defense.

The boys were initially hesitant, unsure of what to do. Luo Chong demonstrated by lifting the rock and smashing it down on the bird's head, splattering blood on all three of them. The bird didn't die immediately but seemed dazed, its struggles weakening—likely suffering from a brain hemorrhage.

Perhaps spurred by the blood, the boys lifted their rocks and struck the bird's head. After a couple more hits, the bird lay motionless. Luo Chong cautiously moved closer, raising the rock again and crushing the bird's skull to ensure it was truly dead. Animals often feign death—a survival skill—and Luo Chong, seasoned by his past missions, knew to confirm his target's demise.

The boys looked at Luo Chong with a mix of awe and confusion. They could speak—their vocal cords and tongues fully functional as evidenced by Luo Chong's ability to talk—but they said nothing.

Luo Chong untied the snake skin from the bird's legs and rewrapped it around his waist. He showed the boys the bola stones, pointed to the bird, and taught them the word "terror bird." After several repetitions, they pronounced it correctly.

Now viewed as Luo Chong's followers, the boys helped him drag the massive bird back to the cave. Seeing such a large prey brought back, the other children couldn't stay inside any longer. They rushed out, helping to drag the bird back, while some younger children retrieved the stones Luo Chong had used for the bola.

Under the midday sun, a young boy clad in a snake skin loincloth led a procession of bare-bottomed children dragging a huge terror bird, with a three-year-old girl riding on top of it and calling out. The scene, meant to be triumphant, was almost comical in its crudeness.

Several women slowly pushed the boulder aside, smiling broadly as they welcomed the children back. It was the first time their tribe had ever captured such a large prey.

In the distance, the two adult men who had witnessed Luo Chong's solo hunt from their perch in the trees respected his actions. They had merely stolen an egg and lost a leader in the process, while Luo Chong, a mere child, had single-handedly captured a terror bird. They acknowledged his prowess wholeheartedly.

Primitive people didn't entertain complex thoughts; they simply revered the strong.

The men descended from the tree, carrying the leader's remains back to the cave. His abdomen had been hollowed out, but no one said anything or cried; death was all too common in their harsh world. Adult men were scarce for a reason: as the primary hunters, encountering large predators often led to death. If the same number of people returned in the evening as had left in the morning, it was considered fortunate. Humans were not yet at the top of the food chain, and survival was a daily struggle.