In a corner of the South Pacific, the storm was gradually weakening.
Heavy clouds still pressed on the sky, obscuring the sunlight.
Thunder roared, and bolts of lightning occasionally flashed across the dark blue sea, with rain brewing.
From a bird’s-eye view, waves continuously crashed onto the shore, and on the dim beach, a faint figure could be seen struggling to drag sothing, leaving a long trail in the sand behind him.
Chen Zhou panted heavily, taking a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Having not done heavy labor for a long ti, his pampered body was now protesting.
His heart pounded fiercely, his lungs began to sting vaguely, and every breath of air seed thin, insufficient to sustain the consumption of his organs.
Chen Zhou almost wanted to give up, so he turned to look at the furious sea.
The tides, with deafening roar, advanced bit by bit. The gathered giant waves, over three ters high, resembled a hungry beast ready to devour him at any mont.
The terrifying sight injected a surge of adrenaline into Chen Zhou. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and pushed forward a little further on the damp sand, finally letting go and sitting down heavily on the ground.
Beside him, at the end of the dragging trail, there was a pale corpse soaked by seawater.
The deceased was a Westerner, his forehead bloody and mangled, sporting a short stubble. He wore a brown jacket, linen shorts for his lower body, his shoes were missing, leaving only a pair of mud and sand covered socks on his feet. His build was not tall, and his age appeared around thirty.
This unfortunate soul, drowned in the sea and pushed ashore by the waves, had no identification on him, yet Chen Zhou knew exactly who he was.
"Robinson Crusoe."
The protagonist of "Robinson Crusoe," a household na in survival on deserted islands, a mariti adventurer, and one of the renowned fictional characters in literature.
Now, he lay on the beach like a sailor who died in a shipwreck in 1659, quietly ceasing to breathe.
Chen Zhou gazed at Robinson’s corpse for a long ti before shifting his sight to the sea surface.
The waters of the Pacific Ocean, responding to the hurricane, surged vigorously, with waves rising higher and higher.
Soon, the accumulated strength suddenly exploded, and a wave smashed onto the rocks, bursting out a circle of white spray.
The powerful sea wind hit his face, moist, fishy, mixed with a faint salty taste, perhaps still bearing traces of the storm’s ferocity.
This was a wind absent inland, a sight unseen by Chen Zhou.
Nature displayed its fierce and angry side at will.
Under such terrifying celestial might, any living being would feel their insignificance and frailty, arousing awe.
Chen Zhou was no exception.
More than two hours ago, he awoke on this unfamiliar beach, bewildered.
After a brief period of fear and panic, he finally understood that after passing the so-called "assessnt" in his dream, the challenge nad "Robinson’s 10,000 Days of Isolated Island Survival" had begun.
All of this was absurd, like a bizarre episode from a novel, and Chen Zhou could hardly accept the fact that his life was decided in such a hasty manner.
Compared to the risks undertaken in the challenge, even the suffocating cent factory seed not so hard to accept; at least he could enjoy the benefits of the 21st century, living a monotonous but stable life, instead of living primitively, eating raw at and blood like a Primitive Person.
However, this was indeed a choice he made himself; those voices indeed originated from his heart.
But humans are fickle, and the courage fueled by disappointnt in life and a mont’s impulse is like a promise made by a boss after a drink, turning into nothing after a hangover.
The little white mouse gradually swallowed by the system would increasingly miss the captivity that binds it, miss the never-ending wheel and abundant food.
Facing the harsh reality, Chen Zhou began to regret those four words he uttered, only to find there was no way back.
He had thought of pleading or cursing the post owner who claid to be from the Space-Ti Administration Bureau, even thought of acting crazy to evoke pity to be taken back to the modern era.
Yet reason inford Chen Zhou that such behavior was futile, serving only to turn him into a clown unable to play the ga.
Regardless, the challenge had already comnced.
In this grand gamble, the loser loses everything, the winner takes all.
He had been pushed to the edge of the cliff, with only one path ahead—fight!
Fight for life, fight for that 720,000, to seize the opportunity to change fate, to grasp the hope of a happy life.
Striving to maintain a façade of calm, forcing himself to accept the reality, Chen Zhou quickly moved away from the turbulent shore, then according to the rules, found a special paper copy of "Robinson Crusoe" on his person.
Knowing that this book was his hope for survival, under the dim light, Chen Zhou began to read carefully, but his turbulent emotions prevented him from concentrating. Skimming through a few pages, he suddenly noticed a figure struggling in the waves not far from the shore.
Having just read how Robinson and the sailor capsized while lowering the boat, Chen Zhou imdiately associated the fallen figure with Robinson, intuition telling him that the small black dot floating up and down in the massive waves might be Robinson.
Thus, Chen Zhou fixed his gaze on the person overboard, silently encouraging him, hoping this "child of destiny" could make it ashore as in the original story, and then collaborate with him to complete the challenge.
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