Richard Thompson wiped the sweat from his forehead. Seeing only a leaf nearby with a trace of blood left on it, he let out a long sigh of relief—finally done! Looking up again, he saw everyone still watching him with anticipation, but not a single person had even a hint of grease at the corners of their mouths. They all pretended as if they had napkins, but in reality, everything had been licked clean.

“There’s nothing left! It’s all finished!”

Richard Thompson quickly picked up that big leaf and waved it.

As soon as he said this, everyone’s expressions seemed to fall into utter despair, as if the end of the world had come. One hopeless gaze after another was directed at Richard Thompson.

Not enough!

This was far from enough!

They had just tasted this miraculous delicacy—how could they be told there was no more? The blow was simply too much!

Suddenly, the young man said, “We still have meat!”

That simple sentence instantly lifted everyone’s spirits; they were practically on their tiptoes, even the old woman was moved.

If even such foul things could taste so delicious, then those meats that were already tasty to begin with...

Come on! Is this ever going to end? Richard Thompson was just going through the motions, but it was still exhausting, especially with no lackey to help. He hurriedly stood up and raised his hand, saying, “Wait! Wait! I’m not even a member of Blackstone Valley yet. Isn’t this a bit... haha.” He gave an awkward laugh, thinking to himself, Even if you want me as a slave, you have to give me an identity first!

Everyone had been so immersed in the delicious food that they’d completely forgotten about the earlier recruitment.

The old woman nodded awkwardly, first beckoning to the old man, who immediately trotted over, then conversed with several older women.

Richard Thompson watched, a bit puzzled. Who exactly was this old man, and why was he the only man allowed to participate?

After a while, the old woman suddenly turned and walked straight toward the cave, and the others followed.

What the hell? What’s going on? Richard Thompson felt like he was about to go crazy and shouted, “Hey, hey, hey, what do you all mean by this?”

The old man suddenly waddled over, grabbed Richard Thompson by the hand, and dragged him toward the cave.

Chapter 5: Knotted Cords for Record Keeping

The old man completely ignored Richard Thompson’s questions, pulling him along with the group into the cave.

As soon as he entered, Richard Thompson immediately felt a coolness. It wasn’t what he’d expected—the cave didn’t have a strong stench. In fact, when he’d come in earlier, he’d deliberately held his breath, thinking that if wild people lived in a cave, it had to stink. But while there was an odor, it wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. And the cave was much larger than he’d thought, big enough to hold dozens of people—at least judging by the number of grass mats inside.

At this moment, the old woman and four elderly women sat on a natural stone platform, while the other women sat on their own grass mats. Only the men were all standing—not just randomly, but in a protective formation, each holding a weapon. Clearly, they were still wary of Richard Thompson.

The old woman suddenly said to Richard Thompson, “After our discussion, we’re willing to let you stay.”

Richard Thompson was instantly overjoyed and said excitedly, “Th-this... thank you so much! Not only did you save my life, but you’re also willing to take me in. I’m really... really... so touched!”

But the old woman didn’t seem moved by Richard Thompson’s words. If he didn’t have any skills, she wouldn’t have let him stay. She said sternly, “But you must strictly abide by the rules of our Blackstone Valley. You cannot break any of them. Otherwise, I will drive you out, or even have you executed.”

“Understood! Understood!” Richard Thompson agreed without hesitation. “I may not have many other virtues, but I do love following rules. So... what are the rules here?” But in his heart, he thought, Rules are made to be broken. If I don’t break them, what am I doing here?

The old woman said, “Later, Henry Wright will explain them to you. For now, just follow him.”

Richard Thompson glanced at Henry Wright, then nodded and smiled. “Got it, got it.”

He thought that although Henry Wright had a frightening physique and strength, he looked rather honest—much better than that young man.

The old woman nodded to the woman beside her, who handed a vine rope, about as thick as a baby’s pinky, to the old man. The rope wasn’t made of hemp or silk, but twisted from vines.

The old man took the rope and immediately climbed up the natural stone steps behind the old woman, more than a meter high.

Richard Thompson looked up and saw that on the stone wall above the steps hung a huge net. But it didn’t look like a fishing net—some knots were smeared with various colors, but not exactly multicolored. In short, it wasn’t very pretty.

He watched as the old man tied the rope to the far right of the net and made a small knot.

The old woman then said, “Alright! Now you are one of us in Blackstone Valley.”

“Huh? Oh... oh...”

Richard Thompson seemed a bit slow to react. Was that the green card ceremony just now? He looked again at the net. Did I miss some detail? Suddenly, a thought struck him—could this be the legendary knotted cord record keeping? Yes! Yes! That must be it! This is humanity’s most primitive contract.

Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!