The Tycoon's Odyssey

At the first light of dawn, as it filtered through the thick canopy of the forest, the tribal village stirred with an air of solemnity.

The early morning mist clung to the ground, giving the scene an ethereal quality. Members of the various tribes gathered around a central clearing, their expressions a mix of sorrow and anxiety.

The cries of children blended with the soft murmur of women speaking in their native tongue, their voices laced with worry and resignation.

The village chief, a tall and dignified figure adorned with traditional garb and ceremonial markings, stood at the center of the gathering.

His face was set in a grim line as he surveyed the scene. The missing men were a heavy burden on his shoulders, and the weight of their absence was palpable in the air.

"Where are our men? Has anyone returned from yesterday?" the chief's voice boomed, though it was tinged with an undertone of desperation.

"We sent search parties, but they haven't come back. Their disappearance is a mystery. We don't have any clue. Did the spirits take them?" one villager murmured.

The villagers murmured among themselves, their voices tinged with apprehension.

Nearby, the chief's wife, a stoic woman with a furrowed brow, comforted the children who clung to her skirts. Her mutterings in the local language were laced with incantations and prayers for the safe return of their loved ones.

As the tribal chief began his briefing, outlining the situation and discussing their next steps, a sudden rustle from the dense forest interrupted the proceedings.

Heads turned in unison toward the source of the disturbance. Eighteen men emerged from the foliage, their clothes tattered and their faces etched with fatigue and confusion.

Among them were the seven men who had gone hunting on the eastern side and eleven from the search party who had disappeared the night before.

The sight of the men triggered a wave of relief and joy among their families. The women and children rushed forward, their cries of happiness mingling with tears of relief. The chief, visibly startled, approached the returning men, his expression a mix of concern and suspicion.

"What is the meaning of this?" the chief demanded, his voice stern.

"Where have you been? Lost? Or somewhere else?"

The men, looking disheveled and weary, fell to their knees before the chief. "Great Chief," one of the men pleaded, "we accompanied some people but have been treated well. You must speak with these outsiders."

The tribal chief's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of Evan and several other people dressed in weird clothing, who were standing at the edge of the clearing. Seeing the strangers, the tribal people raised their weapons in defense, their trust in the outsiders waning.

"You, hellspawn dared to show an outsider the way to enter…" the chief expression furrowed as he growled.

"Stay back!" a warrior shouted, his weapon poised. "We don't know their intentions!"

However, the men who had returned stopped the tribespeople from escalating the situation.

"Please, don't attack," one of them begged. "These outsiders are not like the others. They have powerful and miraculous things. You must speak with them."

The chief's gaze shifted between the men and Evan, his frustration evident. "We do not interact with those from beyond our lands. Our customs forbid such contact."

The men, their voices filled with urgency, responded, "This outsider is different. He has technology and knowledge of Gods that could be of great benefit to us. We must negotiate with him."

The chief, his expression a mixture of irritation and reluctant curiosity, stared at Evan.

"Very well," he said with a resigned sigh.

"I will speak with them. But if they are a threat, I will not hesitate to protect our people."

Evan, sensing the shift in dynamics, stepped forward with a calm demeanor. "Oh! Great Chief, we are here to forge an alliance, not to impose ourselves. Let us discuss how we can assist each other. Your trust is important to us."

"HUH!" The man stared at the young man in surprise, completely stunned as the outsider spoke their language with such fluency.

The chief, though visibly agitated, nodded begrudgingly. "Proceed. But remember, we are watching closely. Any sign of treachery, and we will act."

With that, Evan and the chief moved to a more secluded spot to continue their discussion, while the villagers slowly lowered their weapons, their apprehension tempered by the chief's decision to engage.

Suri stared at Evan's back, wondering when he had learned all this.

'How mysterious?' she thought.

Yet, instead of feeling uneasy, she just smiled.

One of Evan's men followed him closely and covered him while the tribal people grind their teeth and stared at them fiercely.

Inside the thatched house, the interior was simple and earthy. The mud floor was cool to the touch, and the walls, made of woven reeds, exuded a faint earthy scent. Sparse furnishings—just a low wooden table and a few straw mats, gave the space a modest, functional feel. The chief and Evan settled on the ground, their posture reflecting the gravity of their conversation.

The chief, his expression stern and unyielding, broke the silence. "What are your intentions? What do you want from us? Outsider, you defile nature with your presence. Every time I see you, it's as if you bring a blight upon our land."

Evan shook his head, his tone calm and measured. "Sir, the world is changing every day. Your land is but a small part of a vast and evolving world. It makes up less than one percent of the total landmass of the earth."

Evan began to speak in the tribal language, describing the scope of the world beyond their land. He spoke of cities with towering structures, advanced technologies, and a global network connecting distant people. His words painted a picture of a world far larger and more complex than the chief had ever imagined. The chief's eyes widened, his composure visibly shaken by the revelation.

The chief's beliefs were deeply rooted in a view of the world as a static, isolated place.

For generations, his people had worshiped gods they believed watched over their lands and kept them safe from external threats. Their understanding of the world was confined to the boundaries of their territory, with the gods ensuring their prosperity and protection. The concept of an expansive world beyond their land was foreign and unsettling.

As Evan spoke, the chief remembered the old records passed down through generations. These spoke of outsiders as malevolent beings who wielded great power and sought to corrupt or conquer. The stories warned of their deceit and the danger they posed.

Shaking his head in disbelief, the chief laughed bitterly. "How can I trust you? You outsiders are known for your deceit. We believe our gods protect us from such evil. If you have hypnotized our men, as you might have, then according to our rules, we should attack you on sight. You are a threat to our way of life."

Evan was taken aback by the sudden shift in the conversation. He had hoped to build understanding, not incite hostility. Before he could respond, the chief reached for a horn hanging by the door. With a resounding blow, he sounded the war horn, its call echoing through the village.

"I have sounded the war horn," the chief declared, his voice firm. "All our warriors will now attack. We will rid ourselves of you, evil creature."

With that, he gave a creepy laughter. He was just drawing time to assess the situation. Compared to hundreds of warriors in their tribes, what could these handful people possibly do?

As the sound of the horn faded into the distance, Evan realized that the situation had escalated beyond his control.

He glanced around and sighed.

'It seems some things can't be solved with peaceful talks alone.'

As always violence isn't an option,it the answer.

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