I am a Primitive Man Chapter 2: This is… Big Senior Brother

"Ssh, ssh, ssh"

The noise of rustling intensified, with branches and foliage shifting more vigorously. Amid Han Cheng's intense curiosity and eager waiting, his rescuer finally emerged.

"Hiss."

Though his throat ached terribly and he couldn't utter a word, Han Cheng still drew in a sharp breath involuntarily.

For his rescuer turned out to be truly frightening.

Gently parting some burned leaves, a head covered in tangled long hair decorated with several vibrant bird feathers poked out. Thick brows, a bulging forehead, a jutting nose, and a broad mouth with drooping edges stunned Han Cheng completely.

Gazing at this wary head from about ten meters distant, a sudden recollection from his earlier life overlapped with the visage in front of him. It matched the restored half-torso depiction of Peking Man in the opening chapter of his middle school textbook on human evolution.

Han Cheng's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. He regarded the figure in shock, as a whirlwind of mixed feelings welled up inside, leaving him lightheaded.

"Swoosh."

Following that intake of chilly air, the cautious head pulled back right away, concealing itself amid the foliage to secretly watch the odd shape amid the cinders. Moments later, it ventured out once more, glanced at Han Cheng, and upon noticing no odd occurrences, boldly stepped forward entirely.

Trailing behind, a few others resembling him slowly emerged, eyeing the peculiar ring of soot and the blackened form inside it with both caution and intrigue.

Han Cheng's eyes remained wide open. He stared at these early humans, his thoughts racing with a stampede of ten thousand alpacas. This completely broke the usual tropes of time travel. How come everyone else got lucky breaks while he drew the short straw like this?

Ending up as a helpless invalid was bad enough, but summoning ancient tribesmen? Forcing him into a stone-age adventure?

Right then, Han Cheng wished for death, particularly after taking in their looks and outfits, which rendered him utterly wordless and powerless.

The frontman, slim yet muscular, went bare-chested, his waist draped in a tiger hide fashioned like a skirt. In his grip was a well-smoothed rod, as thick as an infant's arm, sharpened at both tips.

The one right after him seemed wide and plump, his gut protruding notably, much like the typical beer paunch of today. How did this ancient fellow fare so comfortably?

Beside him, striding together, came someone with a strikingly dark complexion, a brawny build, and unkempt facial hair. Around his neck dangled a necklace of beast bones, some bleached white and others yellowish, showing varying antiquity.

After these pair, about five or six others with mixed looks gripped wooden clubs and rocks warily as they advanced on Han Cheng.

Is this really meeting primitive folk, or perhaps Big Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother, and Sandy Junior Brother from Journey to the West?

Observing the nearing group, Han Cheng inwardly wondered in awe and despair. The trio of brothers paid no heed to Han Cheng's inner turmoil, guiding their six companions nearer to him.

Noting their armed readiness with clubs and stones, Han Cheng, stuck in his immobile state, had no choice but to stay put. Any twitch could make them see him as a beast and club him fatally, an unfair end indeed.

As the group edged toward the still form, their boldness increased.

The tiger-skirted Big Senior Brother at the front puffed up his chest, lifted his rod, aimed it toward Han Cheng, and parted his lips.

"Monster, take a hit from Sun Wukong!"

Recalling the 1986 Journey to the West series, Han Cheng mentally supplied the dramatic voiceover for Big Senior Brother.

Yet the actual reply caught him off guard.

"$%#$^#^#."

Serious-faced, Big Senior Brother fixed his gaze on Han Cheng and barked out this sequence of sounds, puzzling him deeply.

His eyes already aching from the fixed stare, Han Cheng fought to hold still, beholding this surprising turn.

"$^$%&$%$%@."

Noting no response from the thing ahead to his yells and warnings, Big Senior Brother amplified his tone and scowled fiercer, seeming set to swing the rod.

In order to dodge being labeled a monster and clubbed, Han Cheng summoned immense willpower to keep his eyes immobile and disregard the looming danger.

The rod halted midway, failing to come down.

Likely assured that Han Cheng posed no living threat, Big Senior Brother loosened up following two attempts at probing and scaring.

Addressing those behind him with a few words, Big Senior Brother prompted the rest to lower their guards too.

Han Cheng let out a quiet breath. He realized he'd survived this dangerous encounter.

But the ease didn't last. As Big Senior Brother clutched his rod and checked other spots, the chubby Second Senior Brother took a sniff.

Watching him inhale and creep nearer step by step, eyes shining, a slim strand of saliva dangling from his lips, Han Cheng's pulse quickened once more.

He'd overlooked how, in this era possibly ignorant of fire's use, he now carried the scent of cooked flesh. To an ancient human and avid eater, that aroma was a compelling lure beyond resistance.

Han Cheng got the appeal for a gourmet, yet he refused to end up as that gourmet's supper.

Still, bound in his current condition where just his eyes could shift, he had to freeze. Any motion risked them viewing him as quarry.

"Smack."

Spotting Second Senior Brother drawing near with drool flowing, leaning his face toward Han Cheng's while baring stained teeth as if to chomp, Han Cheng threw caution aside. To evade turning into this tribesman's feast, he gathered every bit of effort to roll his eyes and frighten away this cursed glutton.

Right then, a sharp slap echoed. The approaching face flinched abruptly and withdrew swiftly.

Yet the tiger-skirted Big Senior Brother had dashed up unnoticed, seized Second Senior Brother's ear, yanked him away, and rebuked him harshly.

Though Second Senior Brother looked burly, he feared Big Senior Brother greatly and offered no fight.

Once eight or nine tribesfolk had scoured the site finding nothing, Han Cheng, eyes watering from the extended effort, experienced a wave of relief and thankfulness as they departed at last.

Just then, Second Senior Brother, face slick with spit, glanced back at Han Cheng with longing eyes, sending an involuntary shiver through him.