Henry Clark didn’t say another word.

To the people in the tribe, propriety, justice, integrity, and a sense of shame? What are those? Can you eat them? If you can’t eat them, what’s the point!

Chapter Two: This Simple Life

Henry Clark’s destination wasn’t to keep climbing the mountain; after going up a bit, he followed a stony path toward the back of the mountain.

Reaching the other side, he looked up and saw endless stretches of forested mountains. Among them, a few bare, nearly plantless peaks were where the tribe’s warriors trained, and also the main source of stone tools for the hunting warriors. The rock there wasn’t suitable for plant growth, but it made for an excellent training ground.

Where Henry Clark now stood was a patch of broken stones. These weren’t naturally formed, but smashed by people. All the useful stones that could be worked had long been picked up by the tribe, leaving only useless debris that no one usually bothered with.

It was very quiet, but the rumbling from the nearby mountains could still be heard. Henry Clark had never seen the totem warriors train in person, but he’d heard their training was so destructive that weaklings like him weren’t allowed near. Many had been accidentally injured just by silently watching.

Withdrawing his gaze, Henry Clark let go of the grass-woven leash in his hand. “Go eat your ‘noodles.’”

Unable to hold back any longer, Julius Caesar immediately started running around the stony ground, sniffing as he went. Whenever he caught a scent, he’d dig furiously with his front paws, soon pulling out a worm as thick as an adult’s thumb and a foot long to eat, then continued searching for the next one.

Those worms were called “stone worms” by the tribe. They looked a lot like earthworms, but were much bigger. The one Julius Caesar just ate was considered small—Henry Clark had seen one as thick as an arm, and heard there were even bigger ones. But the larger the stone worm, the deeper underground it liked to stay, so only the smaller ones were left near the surface.

Stone worms tasted terrible, and many people would get severe diarrhea from eating them, so the tribe didn’t include them in their diet. That worked out for Julius Caesar, who was very interested in stone worms.

As a wolf, being reduced to eating worms was pretty miserable.

Carrying the bundle of grass, Henry Clark found a good spot for drying, spread the grass out, and left it to dry so he could have a more comfortable bed in the cave that night.

After laying out the grass, Henry Clark looked around to make sure no one else was there, then went to the edge of the stony ground beside a short tree. He brushed aside a layer of stones, took out a very roughly made stone knife tied to his waist, and started digging. Soon, a stone bowl even cruder than the knife was unearthed, containing a piece of dried meat. Henry Clark quickly took out the meat and buried the bowl again.

The dried meat was only half the size of a palm, tough and with a fishy smell. In his previous life, Henry Clark wouldn’t have given it a second glance, but now, after experiencing real, prolonged hunger, even “tasteless as wax” could become “the world’s greatest delicacy.”

See, what a simple life… all forced by circumstances.

After eating a bit, he immediately felt much more energetic and stronger. Henry Clark stood up to stretch and did a few rounds of the fitness boxing he used to practice in his previous life. This was something Henry Clark did every day, because when he first woke up in this body, it was extremely weak.

Over there, Julius Caesar was still digging for food, but remained alert, keeping an eye on the surroundings from time to time. That was why Henry Clark dared to eat out in the open—otherwise, if some other hungry tribe member saw him, the meat would change hands. Henry Clark was now completely isolated, with skinny arms and legs, a sallow face, and no fighting ability. If not for some experience from his previous life and the toughness he’d developed since coming here, he might not even have the strength to walk around.

After a few rounds of fitness boxing, Henry Clark stopped to catch his breath, only to notice that Julius Caesar, who was biting a stone worm and pulling it out, suddenly turned his head. The abrupt movement tore the worm in half, and the part still underground quickly shrank back into the earth. Even with just half left, they could grow back and survive after a while. The half in Julius Caesar’s mouth was writhing and fiercely whipping at his jaws.

Julius Caesar didn’t swallow the worm right away or pay any attention to its thrashing. Instead, he stared intently in one direction, growling deep in his throat—a warning to Henry Clark that someone was coming.

Julius Caesar didn’t bare his fangs, so Henry Clark knew the newcomer was probably someone familiar.

Staring that way, Henry Clark soon heard a faint sound, like wind rustling through leaves. Gradually, a figure appeared in his line of sight.

It was a very tall and burly man, dressed in simple animal skin clothes of excellent quality, though dusted with stone chips. There were a few scars on his face, adding to his fierce look, and more scars of various sizes on the parts of his body not covered by animal skins. Around his waist hung a ring of stone implements—carefully selected stones waiting to be made into tools.