Before long, various wooden huts of different sizes came into view. Some were also built with wood and stone, or with grass and mud. Compared to the former, the wood-and-stone houses were a bit larger and looked sturdier. These houses could be considered the mansions of the area near the foot of the mountain.

Regardless of whether it was those wooden huts or the wood-and-stone "mansions," in Henry Clark's eyes, they were all ridiculously crude structures. However, after staying here for a while, Henry Clark actually longed to have a wooden hut of his own, but at this stage, it was impossible to achieve.

By this time, people had already come out to get busy. The men were out with their stone tools, sharpening them so they could take the stone knives on the next hunt. The women had their own tasks, such as sewing animal hides and drying food.

As Henry Clark passed by, quite a few people glanced over—not at Henry Clark, but at the creature Henry Clark was leading. Their eyes were filled with greedy longing, and they swallowed hungrily. In their eyes, what Henry Clark was leading was just a big chunk of meat, enough to feed them for several meals. Those who had started working early and were still hungry had their eyes practically glowing green. But when they saw the thing hanging around its neck, they reluctantly suppressed their urge to snatch it. That was the "shaman's" token, which meant the creature belonged to the shaman, and they didn't dare touch it. In their eyes, Henry Clark was just watching over the wolf for the shaman.

Yes, the one following Henry Clark was actually a wolf, born in the mountains. It was just that, when it was a pup, a warrior from the tribe who was out hunting found it and brought it back for Henry Clark to eat. Coincidentally, the tribe's shaman happened to pass by at that time, left behind a token with shamanic markings, and then left. Henry Clark named the wolf "Julius Caesar," which was also the name of the dog he had raised in his previous life. He raised Julius Caesar like a dog by his side, all the way until now.

The people here had a strange way of thinking. They clearly respected the shaman greatly, but after the shaman gave a token to Henry Clark, their attitude toward Henry Clark didn't really change. The only difference was that they held back from slaughtering Julius Caesar to eat. As for everything else, it was business as usual. After all, the shaman hadn't told anyone to help Henry Clark. A big figure like the shaman wouldn't have time to bother with a child. As time went on, everyone got used to having a kid with a wolf around. From the time Julius Caesar was a toothless pup to now, the shaman had never appeared again.

But what puzzled the people near the foot of the mountain was: why did Henry Clark call Julius Caesar a dog?

What was a dog, anyway?

This question didn't last long, because no one cared enough to think about it. They were too busy with more important things—like food.

Henry Clark was already used to the stares around him. He nonchalantly led Julius Caesar onward. Even if the people in the tribe were greedy, they wouldn't dare snatch the shaman's things. Just as William Grant had said, the shaman's status in the tribe was extremely high. As for why the shaman, who lived in the "noble district" up the mountain and was one of the most important people in the tribe, would give such a precious token to someone as insignificant as Henry Clark, who slept in the "children's cave," it all came down to a word Henry Clark had mentioned at the time—"raising." Back then, Henry Clark had said he would raise the wolf pup Julius Caesar a bit bigger before eating it. The shaman, who happened to be passing by, heard this and told Henry Clark to raise it. To prevent others in the tribe from taking it, the shaman left a token, which was then hung around Julius Caesar's neck.

That "shaman" was very interested in raising animals, but in the past half year, the old man had never shown up again. So, Henry Clark's impression of the old man was: an irresponsible old charlatan. Was raising a wolf easy? Being stared at every day by people with hungry, green eyes—without a strong mind, you'd go crazy.

In short, raising Julius Caesar was entirely due to a coincidence.

Life was so hard! Even though the food in the children's cave was provided by the tribe, he was still hungry.

Henry Clark sighed helplessly, looked ahead, and then his eye twitched.

Up ahead, someone was carrying a stone club, over two meters long and shaped like a baseball bat but much thicker. This thing was heavy enough that, by Henry Clark's standards from his previous life, even lifting it would be a struggle. But that person carried it as easily as if it were an ordinary hoe, yawning lazily as he walked up the mountain—probably going to discuss hunting matters with the hunting team.

That's what people here were like—normal people. As for Henry Clark, he currently belonged to the weaker group who had not yet awakened their totem power. Only when he grew to about ten years old and awakened his totem power would he be considered an ordinary warrior with the ability to go out hunting. Totem power was the tribe's sole standard for determining whether someone could become a hunting warrior.

As for what exactly totem power was, Henry Clark didn't know. Maybe he'd understand when the time came.

At this moment, the uncle walking in front of Henry Clark with the stone club, still looking half-asleep, didn't even notice that his animal-hide shorts were about to slip down to his knees, casually exposing himself in broad daylight. The people around didn't react at all.

Henry Clark held back for a moment, then finally called out, "Hey, uncle with the club up ahead, your shorts are falling down!"

The man in front only turned around yawning after Henry Clark called out for the third time. He glanced over at Henry Clark, his gaze lingering on Julius Caesar for about half a minute, then finally looked down at his slipping shorts. Calmly, he pulled them up, tied the leather cord, and continued carrying his club up the mountain.