Jungle Corp – CEO on Death Island

Chapter 6: Forest Restructuring

The morning sunlight pierced through the gaps in the palm leaf roof of the VVIP hut. Arthur woke up, stretching his body which was still stiff from sleeping on a wooden cot.

There was no aroma of espresso coffee this morning. There was also no personal assistant knocking on the door to read out his meeting schedule or stock reports. There was only a choir of forest birds and the smell of wet earth.

Arthur snorted softly. He stepped out of the hut, straightening his dirty and torn shirt. Grok, the giant-bodied Cannibal Commander, was apparently already on standby, squatting in front of the door like a guard dog.

"Call all the elders and your men who can work," Arthur ordered without beating around the bush, his aura already back in big boss mode. "We're having a morning briefing right now in the village square."

Fifteen minutes later, the village square that was usually quiet in the morning was suddenly full. Everyone gathered under the giant banyan tree in the middle of the village.

They sat in a circle on the ground, staring in confusion at Arthur who was standing arrogantly in front of a large flat stone like a CEO in front of a boardroom whiteboard.

In the very front row, there were Grok and a skinny, dried-up old man. The old man wore a crown made of an eagle skull, and his chest was full of white paint scribbles. He was Xylok, the Tribe Shaman.

"Listen carefully, all of you!" Arthur opened, his voice loud and firm. He struck the stone with a long twig like a manager about to scold his sales staff. "The operational system of your village is an absolute disaster! You only eat when you're lucky, and starve when hunting is scarce. This is god-tier inefficiency! Starting from this second, I'm taking over all village management!"

The tribe members whispered to each other. Arthur's vocabulary clearly sounded like an alien language to them, but his angry intonation successfully ensured no one dared to interrupt him.

Arthur switched to pointing at Grok. "You, and all your hunting troops. Starting today, your group's name is changed to the Asset Acquisition Department. Your job isn't to run around chasing wild boars in broad daylight until you're out of breath. That's stupid and a waste of energy!"

Grok gaped, scratching his bald head. "Then how are we supposed to catch the meat, Mr. Boss?"

"Use your brains!" Arthur spat. "Use traps! Dig large holes, set snares from roots, herd the animals to one point using fire. We catch them alive to be bred, not just killed and left to rot because they couldn't be finished! Understand?!"

Grok immediately nodded stiffly, even though his brain was still loading, trying to process the concept of catching an animal without killing it.

Arthur then spun his body and pointed the tip of his twig right at Xylok's face, the old shaman who was busy muttering incantations. "And you! Old Shaman!"

Xylok jumped in surprise, his bone necklace jingling. "M-me? I am in charge of summoning the rain spirits and driving away evil spirits, Envoy of the Gods..."

"Nonsense!" Arthur cut in quickly. "Starting now, I'm changing your position to HR Manager. Human Resource Department!"

Xylok looked even more dumbfounded. "H-R-D? What kind of spirit is that? Does it like to eat human hearts?"

Arthur massaged his temples. The frustration of talking to stone-age people was starting to make his blood pressure rise. "Don't overthink it! Your job is easy. Hold this twig. Every time someone finishes working, you make one line in the dirt. Who brings firewood, who searches for wild fruits, record everything. You are the one organizing the distribution of food rations!"

Hearing that new rule, a chubby barbarian youth in the back row suddenly raised his hand. He tried to protest in the style of a slacker employee wanting to collect a free paycheck.

"Why go through all that trouble, Mr. Boss?" the youth protested. "There's still a lot of leftover pork from last night. We just want to sleep today."

Arthur's eyes instantly sharpened. Here it was, the chronic disease of the working world that he hated the most: a slacker mentality!

"What is your name?" Arthur asked coldly.

"T-Taro," the youth answered nervously.

"Listen carefully, Taro," Arthur stepped slowly toward him, radiating the cruel, intimidating aura that usually made his company managers pee their pants. "Under my leadership, we use a KPI system. Key Performance Indicator. There is only one rule: No work, no food!"

Taro gulped, but still tried to make excuses. "But... that boar was our catch from yesterday."

Arthur smiled cynically. A smile that instantly gave everyone in the square goosebumps.

"Oh, go ahead and eat that pork," Arthur challenged casually, crossing his arms over his chest. "But feel free to eat it raw or just boil it with swamp water like usual. If you guys are lazy, I won't bother going through the trouble of concocting ginger marinades, crushing wild chilies, or roasting it until the skin is crispy and juicy."

Checkmate. The ultimate threat had been dropped.

Hearing the threat that they would have to go back to swallowing bland boiled meat, the entire tribe instantly panicked beyond belief.

Grok even directly jumped to his feet and kicked Taro's butt until the chubby youth sprawled onto the ground.

"Work, idiot! Do you want us to eat bland boiled meat again?!" Grok raged. "Go find wood!"

"Mercy! I'll look for wood right now!" Taro shouted in a panic, immediately scrambling head over heels toward the forest, followed by his friends who were terrified of not getting a barbecue ration.

In a matter of seconds, the square was completely deserted. Everyone was suddenly extraordinarily diligent. The threat of not getting a delicious food ration turned out to be far more terrifying than any evil spirit's curse.

Towards the afternoon, the results of Arthur's corporate system began to show clearly.

Xylok, the makeshift HR Manager, seemed busy scribbling on the ground with a twig, wearing a stressed but proud face. In front of him were piles of wild yams, wild fruits, mountains of firewood, and three live wild boar piglets neatly tied up.

The trapping system Arthur suggested worked perfectly. The tribe's productivity doubled in just half a day. Everything was clearly monitored, measurable, and efficient. No one dared to lie around in broad daylight anymore.

Arthur sat leaning back in front of his hut, sipping fresh coconut water while smiling in satisfaction. He had just magically turned a bunch of lazy cannibals into the cheapest, most militant, and obedient operational workforce on the face of the earth.

"The stomach incentive system truly never fails," muttered Arthur, tossing his coconut shell. "Just wait until I force them to build a small-scale spice factory. Victor, Chloe... did you think this island would be my grave? Big mistake. This is going to be the base for my counter-invasion."

However, just as the former CEO felt he had regained full control over his world, he forgot one important thing. This was the Island of Death, a place where the law of the jungle still applied, and things beyond the logic of corporate business roamed freely.

From behind the dense thickets at the edge of the village, a pair of sharp eyes had been watching him relentlessly since this morning.

The figure hid perfectly on the branch of a leafy banyan tree. Her breathing was slow, making no sound at all like an apex predator. She observed Arthur's every move, the way the man in the torn suit gave orders, and how all the strongest men in her tribe submitted to him overnight.

A wide smirk slowly appeared on the face of the mysterious figure. Her left hand tightly gripped a wooden spear smeared with fresh blood, while her wild eyes continued to lock onto Arthur.

She stared at the CEO not as a tasty prey to be eaten, but as a valuable hunting target that she wanted to bring home to her bed.