That person spoke another string of words, holding something in his hand and rubbing it against Brian Clark's exposed arm. The rough sensation was clearly that of a stone.

The continuous "ka-ba" sounds echoed, and flashes of light flickered through the room.

This time, Brian Clark saw the man staring at him with wide eyes, looking either shocked or a bit angry. While fiddling with the stone that made the "ka-ba" sound, he shouted and yelled, and, clearly annoyed, kicked out with his foot.

"Ugh..." Kicked by him, Brian Clark finally let out a pained groan, and couldn't help but feel tense again. He was really worried this guy was crazy—otherwise, who would speak some incomprehensible dialect to a stranger in an era when Mandarin is so widespread, yelling and shouting while banging a stone with "ka-ba—ka-ba—" sounds?

After a while, the man finally stopped playing with the stone, but the room went completely dark. He said something in a tone that was both angry and helpless, then flopped down on the pile of grass nearby like a corpse, and before long, started snoring!

Realizing the man didn't intend to hurt him, Brian Clark's nerves gradually calmed down. He had no idea what was going on—the man didn't light a lamp, just played with the stone, and even kicked him a few times, leaving a numb spot where he was hit. What was that all about?

Other than getting kicked, it didn't seem like anything murderous was about to happen, so Brian Clark regained a bit of courage.

"Ka-ba, ka-ba! Bro, what exactly are you planning to do with me?"

"...Snore, snore."

"Seriously? If you want ransom, at least name a price."

"Snore... shh... snore."

The weak voice and the sound of snoring intertwined, playing out a bizarre farce.

Time kept passing, and after his failed attempts, Brian Clark fell silent. He used to absolutely hate people who snored while sleeping, but now he found the sound rather endearing. Having someone else around—even if he didn't know their intentions—was still better than the earlier darkness and silence. Other than being a bit fierce, the man didn't seem malicious, and as Brian Clark relaxed, he actually fell asleep too.

The next day? Maybe it was the next day? Anyway, when Brian Clark woke up, there was light in the room again. He discovered once more that there was no one else in the room but himself, and when he tried to lift his head, he actually succeeded! At that moment, a huge sense of happiness surged in his heart—being able to move meant he wasn't paralyzed, just...

"Huh?!"

His original Adidas T-shirt was gone, his Apple-brand jeans had vanished, and even his Li-Ning sneakers weren't spared. Only his red underwear remained as bright as ever.

Lying in the pile of grass with nothing but his underwear, Brian Clark's mind went blank. All 150 pounds of his body exposed to the air, his fair skin, his not-so-muscular six-foot-one frame, every part intact, lying there in the grass.

Just as Brian Clark tried to reach back and check if his rear had been violated, the uncle who looked just like a mountain bandit appeared.

The mountain bandit uncle's appearance was full of mystery! Not because his entrance was dramatic, but because his outfit was just too strange.

In Brian Clark's eyes, this uncle didn't just resemble a mountain bandit—he was practically the spitting image of the "legendary" mountain bandit!

His long hair was tied with a cloth strip, his face covered in a dense beard, with straight eyebrows, thick brows and big eyes—the very definition of such a face. He wore a short-sleeved, rough linen shirt of an odd style, exposing his hairy arms and chest. Of course, through all that hair, you could tell his muscles were well-developed. His lower half was clad in equally rough linen shorts that reached just below the knees, and his leg hair was as thick and dense as ever. The footwear was unusual too—clearly a pair of so-called "tough shoes," basically straw sandals! Most distinctive of all... he even had hair on his toes!

Chapter 0002: Seems Not Good

No idea what month it was, but waves of muggy heat kept blowing in. Dressed in rough linen, leaning against a thatched hut and staring at the patch of yellowing weeds ahead, Brian Clark looked a bit dazed.

Since that awakening, it had been a month of sunrises and sunsets. Facing an uncle who only spoke some dialect, Brian Clark couldn't get any useful information due to the language barrier, and didn't even know if this place could still be considered China.

There were no high-rise buildings here, not even a trace of the spiderweb-like power lines you usually see in small villages. The environment lacked any modern feel—apart from the clear sky and fresh air, to Brian Clark it was like going from civilization to the wild. Everything felt so unfamiliar, with a strong sense of not belonging.

"Since I'm here, I might as well settle in?" Brian Clark wasn't that carefree. As someone who'd never really suffered as a "modern person," he disliked food that was hard to swallow, was even less used to drinking unboiled water, and absolutely hated the "bed" made by piling up random weeds! But what could he do? He'd tried to leave, but after walking in one direction for three days, before the uncle dragged him back, he hadn't seen a single four-wheeled vehicle, not even a two-wheeler. Strangest of all, he barely saw any people, and those he did all spoke dialect!

Since then, Brian Clark began to persistently try to escape, but without exception, he was always dragged back by the uncle after a few days. Thankfully, he never got beaten.