"It's a great calamity, and it will... What must come?"

"There will be a blessing, chief!"

Marcas crossed his legs and lay on the beach with a comfortable face. Behind him were four natives kneeling, holding banana leaves and fanning the warm breeze. The bald head, as the number two in the tribe, also lay next to Makas, eating fruit in a daze.

"Money, power, just beautiful women, hey..."Marcus sighed, seriously, the natives here are simply too ugly. After a long time, looking at the white sows in the pigsty, I feel a little clear-eyed!

You can't stop there. Marcus tilted up, looked at the large island not far away, and then fell into deep thought.

Could it be another tribe in that dense bush? The predatory nature had sprouted in Marcas, and the bandit leader, who had a very bold plan, still needed to do a lot of foreshadowing. For example, in terms of language barriers, it was extremely difficult for Marcas to communicate with the indigenous people of Hamm.

Many things in daily life are mostly through some body language to make the natives understand their meaning. This is where it is necessary to train a translator to solve communication problems. But for now, the native in charge of the translation has very limited knowledge of the continental, and there is still a long way to go before Marcas could have hoped.

"Tim!" Marcus shouted lazily. Soon, a young native heard the sound and jumped up. He is Marcas's translator, named Tim, and his IQ is considered to be at the highest level among the natives, the only drawback is that he is not strong enough and is a little thin.

"King Marcus!" was the first phrase Tim had learned, and of course the final title of king was just right for Marcus.

"It's so pleasant. Marcas laughed, then gestured, "You, follow me." ”

The bald head lying on the side also stood up when he heard the sound and followed him.

The three of them walked for a while and came to a simple thatched dock made of natives. There are dozens of small wooden boats tethered to rattans, each of which can only accommodate a maximum of three people (but you don't see that there are quite a few of them, in fact, only a few can be used, and the rest are mostly bubbling and leaking, and the slightly better ones also have two people paddling, and one person is responsible for throwing water out with a scoop, and the roughness of the indigenous craftsmanship is about to catch up with the wild people outside)

"This, and this, these. Marcus pointed at them one by one, and then gestured to Tim, "It's all garbage, garbage boats, useless boats!"

"La... Rubbish, uh, useless!" Tim nodded thoughtfully, trying to understand what "the god of gold" meant in order to keep the glorious errand.

"Look at it. Marcus took a finger-length mango from his bald pocket, and then went to the tribe to get a coconut the size of a human head.

"Junkboat, equal, mango. With that, he slammed the mango to the ground and stepped on it.

"I want it, it's so big!" Marcus took out the coconut and thrust it heavily into Tim's arms.

"Garbage, garbage boats, big ones!" Tim nodded his head like a chicken pecking rice.

"Good. Marcus returned to the tribe with a bald head, "How's your counting going?"

"Chief, there are about 1,200 natives in total!" said the bald head excitedly, the average life expectancy of the natives is not long, but their reproductive ability is quite amazing.

"1200?" Marcas couldn't hide the excitement on his face. A number of people of this magnitude would be comparable to the strength of any great lord in a country on the continent.

"Except for the little kids, how many people can be used as combat power?"

"There are more than 900 of them! Chief, don't underestimate the natives, they are weapons from their braids to their toenails, and they are more fierce than the men in the fight! And if you want, there are nearly 100 underage girls and boys who can fight for you, they can climb trees and rocks, and they can run faster than the wild monkeys in the mountains, we can call them Ono's group!"

"Ono, Savage Legion?" Marcas thought again, these natives breed as fast as rabbits, and they are not picky eaters at all, and what they are best at is self-sufficiency, so the supply is almost zero. As long as you and the bald head still have gold coins in their pockets, then the rest will be much easier.

"Assemble, assemble!" Marcas picked up a stick and pounded vigorously on the largest leather drum in the indigenous camp.

"Oh, oh!" In their eyes, Marcus and the bald head are simply the gods of gold sent by heaven, and what they say is also a divine word, which cannot be doubted.

"Pick up your best weapon, I'm going to start forming for you!" Marcus spat on the stage, but there was silence from the audience, and no one could understand what he was saying. At this time, Tim rushed over, but he could not understand Marcus's instructions, he only understood the simple words "I", "you" and "pick up".

"Boss, let me try. The bald head of the leader walked down, grabbed three natives with bone spears, and made them stand in a row.

"Spear!" the bald head patted the native's weapon, and couldn't help but tighten his buttocks, "Those who use spears, stand in a row!" After saying that, he grabbed a few more natives with spears and let them catch them on the right side of the three spearmen just now.

Soon, the natives understood what he meant, and one after another more than 300 adult natives with bone spears surrounded and stood in a row (bone spears are simple to make and have the most users, but they are relatively bulky, so only adult and strong natives can exert their due lethality).

"Very good—" The bald head went around to the second row, grabbing three more natives with wooden boomerang and forming a line.

Then, more than 200 natives with the same weapons gathered around and lined up in a row (wooden boomerang is less lethal, and is generally used to hunt small animals in the daily life of the natives, and requires a high degree of flexibility of the user, so the users are mostly thin young people). They also have sharp stones stuffed into their waist pockets, which they can use to stun their prey at close range if necessary.

"Third row...", the bald head looked at the natives in the crowd with bird feathers on their heads, pulled them out, and formed an army of nearly 300 people to form a net rope army, who were responsible for fishing on the seashore in the tribe, making good use of the special equipment of "seagrass net rope".

"In the end...", the bald head looked at the remaining 400 natives, a little embarrassed. In addition to the more than 100 sick and disabled people who could not participate in the fighting, the remaining 300 or so natives were generally only responsible for the production and maintenance of the equipment in the camp, but also the construction of bonfires and houses.

"These 300 will form a looting team, they know what to take and what not to take. Marcus said as he walked on.

"Spearmen, boomerang soldiers, netting soldiers, looting squads, logistics..."Marcus almost laughed out loud as he looked at this huge army, which had led a troissman of less than 150 robbers in his heyday.

Marcas then walked over, preparing to select a captain and vice-captain from each of these formations, so that he could carry out his daily management and training.