Grant's dark eyes flickered with an inscrutable light, as if everything he was thinking was laid bare before the old man.

"Burn at the stake."

Ethan Brooks: "......"

Sure enough, he couldn't fool Grant.

That wily old man was truly ruthless, not even giving him a chance to speak before deciding to burn him alive.

"No, no, no!"

"If there's no water, we can dig a well, dig a well!"

"Dig a well!"

"Dig down, dig underground—as long as you dig deep enough, you'll find a water vein. My family... no, the totem told me this."

...

"A well?"

A glimmer flashed in Grant's eyes, and his pronunciation was a bit awkward. Even as the most knowledgeable person in the tribe, he still didn't quite understand what Ethan Brooks was talking about.

"What is a well?"

"Two no matter which way you look at it!"

Ethan Brooks wanted to slap himself. His life was hanging by a thread, and he still couldn't stop running his mouth. Luckily, this world didn't have that saying. He hurried to make up for it: "If there's still no water, it won't be too late to burn me then."

From his predecessor's memories, this wild land was rich in resources, lush with vegetation, clearly indicating abundant water. But for the tribe, they simply hadn't realized they could dig down for water—or rather, they lacked this kind of survival skill.

...

The tribe where his predecessor lived didn't even have an official name. In fact, they could hardly be called a real tribe—just a small settlement, with fewer than two hundred people and only two and a half totem warriors.

A few days ago, his totem ritual was meant to prepare for the two would-be totem warriors, but he ruined it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been punished so harshly and glared at by the tribe.

For such a small tribe, every totem warrior was a pillar supporting their survival.

Ethan Brooks was dragged outside the cave by Harris. Many tribespeople gathered around, all glaring at him angrily. Fortunately, Grant soon walked out of the cave, and everyone hurriedly saluted.

A broken stone tool was thrown in front of him, and Harris stared at him with wide eyes.

Ethan Brooks spread his hands helplessly. Not only were his feet bound, but his injuries hadn't fully healed. He looked toward Grant.

Soon, at Grant's command, two burly men stepped out from the crowd, each holding a stone knife.

"Dig down over there."

Ethan Brooks pointed to the center of the valley, where a tall tree stood, thick enough for five or six people to encircle, its roots twisting like dragons, powerfully plunging into the earth.

He had no idea where water might be in the valley—he could only hope they wouldn't hit a layer of bedrock. Surrounded by mountains, who knew if there was a huge slab of rock beneath the soil.

While Ethan Brooks was lost in thought, Dean and Miles had already started digging with their stone knives. Dirt flew everywhere, and in just a dozen seconds, the pit they dug was deep enough to hide both of them, leaving him stunned.

Soil, rocks, tree roots—none of it seemed to matter in their hands. Everything was cut through by the stone knives.

Three meters.

Five meters.

Ten meters.

Standing at the edge of the pit, Ethan Brooks looked down. That was his rough estimate, and even if he was off, it couldn't be more than five meters. The pit was five or six meters in diameter, making it easier to toss out the dirt.

And the number of people digging—not just a pit, but a well—had grown from two to six. Primitive people really were strong. These weren't even real totem warriors, yet they were like excavators. If he could bring them back to the modern world to form a construction crew, they'd be amazing.

Clang!

A sound echoed from the bottom of the pit, making Ethan Brooks's heart skip a beat.

Crap, they've hit rock.

At the bottom, Dean stabbed downward with his stone knife. The dark rock was sliced open like tofu.

Pfft!

The moment he pulled out the stone knife, a jet of water shot up, at least ten meters high.

Water!

Under the sunlight, the spray sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow. The tribespeople around the pit were all soaked, but not a single one dodged. Instead, everyone cheered and howled.

"Water! Water! Water!"

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

"There's really water in the tribe!"

"We have water now!"

The excited tribespeople let the water splash all over them, kneeling in the mud and howling. Having water meant they no longer had to fight the black-bellied terror crocodiles at the river for water, and no more tribespeople would be lost to the crocodiles.

At this moment, Ethan Brooks was also drenched, covered in mud, but he finally breathed a sigh of relief. When the people around him looked at him, their anger was gone, replaced by a hint of gratitude.

The water spout lasted about ten minutes before gradually calming down. There was too much mud in the well, so the water was very murky, but that wasn't a problem. After a while, it would clear up.

For a while, everyone in the tribe gathered around, peering into the well, their eyes full of excitement.

All the tribespeople were cheering, but in the midst of the crowd, Grant stared at Ethan Brooks with clouded eyes, lost in thought.

Had the totem really manifested its power?

Chapter 3: I'm So Scared I Smashed the System to Death