A stone suddenly flew in from somewhere and struck down the butterfly.

Damn it, who’s so lacking in morals! Richard Thompson couldn’t help but frown.

“I hit it! I hit it!”

“Kill!”

In an instant, cries of “kill” shook the sky.

A group of little brats came charging over, wielding all sorts of wooden sticks and stones, their faces twisted with excitement, with a cloud of dust billowing behind them.

They pounced directly, smashing the butterfly with stones and sticks.

In no time, the butterfly was beaten to pieces, completely unrecognizable.

Richard Thompson took a sharp breath, thinking to himself, how can these kids be so cruel? If I quit my job now, I wonder if it’s still too late.

Then, an older kid picked up the butterfly fragments and distributed them to his friends, saying, “When we grow up and have great power, we’ll be able to hunt even bigger beasts.”

So it turned out they were playing a hunting game. The group of kids, carrying their spoils, chased each other as they left.

I’d better not mess with these kids in the future—my life could be at risk. Richard Thompson wiped his cold sweat, glanced around, and saw that the adults all ignored this, each busy with their own work. The women were sewing animal hides with bone needles or making bone ornaments, while the men were mostly sharpening stone tools.

Richard Thompson looked at the old man and said, “Sir, may I ask your name?”

The old man looked at him in confusion.

Richard Thompson quickly said, “What’s your name?”

“Brian Cooper.” The old man chuckled, “Just call me Brian Cooper.”

“His dad?”

Richard Thompson blinked, thinking this name was really unpleasant, especially since he was a man—it was hard to say out loud. He habitually cupped his hands and mumbled, “So it’s Elder Brian Cooper, my apologies, my apologies.”

Brian Cooper seemed thoroughly puzzled by Richard Thompson’s words and actions, and continued, “Brian Cooper, just call me Brian Cooper.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Richard Thompson nodded repeatedly.

He also noticed that people here didn’t seem to use honorifics—everyone just called each other by name, almost excessively egalitarian.

“Brian Cooper! Brian Cooper!”

Suddenly, a woman called out to them.

Brian Cooper responded and immediately walked over.

Richard Thompson turned to the wooden-faced Henry Wright and asked, “Where will I sleep?”

Henry Wright pointed upward.

Richard Thompson looked up and saw a small stone cave more than three meters high. “You mean that cave?”

Henry Wright nodded.

Richard Thompson shook his head and looked around. There were no stairs on either side, not even a wooden ladder. He couldn’t help but wonder, “How… how do you get up there?”

In the blink of an eye, Henry Wright was already standing at the cave entrance above. It wasn’t even climbing—he leapt up as if performing lightness skill, tapping his toes lightly on the stone wall and jumping straight up.

Richard Thompson blinked, feeling indignant. We’re all human—why is there such a huge difference? Is it a gravity issue?

He tried jumping a few times and found gravity was perfectly normal—his own jumping was just embarrassingly bad.

With no other choice, he could only crawl up.

Henry Wright squatted above, watching in astonishment, as if he couldn’t understand either.

Fortunately, Richard Thompson had a thick skin and didn’t care at all. When he reached the cave entrance and looked inside, he saw that although it was fairly spacious—enough for about ten people—it was extremely dirty and messy, with dead grass and vines piled together. Compared to the large cave below, it was far less comfortable and clean.

Oh god! Am I really going to live in here from now on? How is this any different from being an animal! Richard Thompson didn’t even want to go in, but he did notice something: the big cave below was probably for women and children, while the men all lived in these three small caves above.

Richard Thompson really didn’t want to go in, so he just sat at the entrance. Suddenly, curiosity got the better of him and he asked Henry Wright, “Henry Wright, who taught you how to make fire?”

He could understand the “lightness skill”—after all, with enough training, maybe humans could barely manage it, like those parkour athletes. But Henry Wright’s fire-making by drilling wood was absolutely impossible for ordinary humans.

Henry Wright said, “No one taught me. I figured it out myself.”

Richard Thompson was shocked. “You figured it out yourself?”

Henry Wright nodded.

Richard Thompson asked again, “No one else can do it?”

Henry Wright replied proudly, “They don’t have such great strength.”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but raise his iron-like arms—a true symbol of strength—but quickly put them down, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

Thank goodness he’s the only one who can make fire like that. If everyone could, what would be the point of me trying to survive? Richard Thompson nodded slightly, thinking, maybe it’s because humans have just evolved from apes, so they still retain animal strength and speed, and Henry Wright just happens to be a genius among geniuses. Hmm… that must be it. By the way, wasn’t fire-making by drilling wood invented by Suiren? Richard Thompson probed, “Have you heard of Suiren?”

Henry Wright shook his head.