Jungle Corp – CEO on Death Island

Chapter 7: The Threat Behind the Bushes

The midday sun felt like it was roasting the top of his head.

Arthur stood in the middle of the village square, hands on his hips as he supervised his "employees" at work. Xylok, the makeshift HR Manager, was reporting the stock of wild yams and wild fruits using twig scribbles on the ground. On the other side, Grok and the Asset Acquisition Department team had just returned bringing two medium-sized deer caught from the trench trap Arthur had designed.

"Good work. This is what we call time efficiency," Arthur praised, nodding in satisfaction at the still-living deer. "Put them into the wooden pen I built yesterday. Don't kill them until we need fresh meat. Xylok, record Grok's team's performance today with an A grade!"

Xylok hurriedly scribbled on the dirt, even though the old shaman had absolutely no idea what an 'A grade' was. What mattered was that Mr. Boss was happy and their dinner ration was safe.

However, amidst his satisfaction of seeing his small kingdom starting to run systematically, Arthur suddenly got goosebumps.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. There was a strange, unsettling feeling. This feeling was exactly the same as when he was being monitored by a rival board of directors from across the meeting table. There was a pair of eyes staring intently at him. Not a gaze of admiration à la Grok, let alone a gaze of fear à la Xylok. This was the gaze of a starving predator locking onto its prey.

Arthur turned his head quickly, scanning the rows of bushes and banyan trees around the village. There was no one there. Only leaves swaying blown by the wind.

"Probably just my feeling. A side effect of not having coffee for too long," Arthur muttered to calm himself down.

He dismissed the afternoon meeting and decided to return to his VVIP hut to rest. His brain needed a break after spending all day thinking about how to create Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) for a bunch of prehistoric humans.

As soon as he arrived at the hut, Arthur sat on the edge of the wooden cot, massaging his temples. He was just about to close his eyes and draft a territorial expansion plan for tomorrow morning, when suddenly...

CRASH!

The woven bamboo door of his hut was kicked from the outside and shattered into pieces. Bamboo splinters flew in all directions.

Arthur jumped in surprise until he nearly tumbled off his cot. Thick dust billowed at the doorway. As the dust slowly settled, there stood a woman who successfully made the CEO's brain go blue screen for five full seconds.

The woman towered high. Her posture was incredibly athletic. Her skin was an exotic sun-baked brown, with abdominal muscles clearly defined beneath the rough cloth wraps and leopard skin loincloth. Her face was actually very beautiful and exotic, but the aura she radiated was one hundred percent wild and barbaric.

In her right hand, she held a wooden spear smeared with blood. In her left hand, she dragged the carcass of a black panther the size of Arthur's office desk, as if it were just a grocery bag from the supermarket.

She was Xara, the Chief's Daughter. The strongest fighter on the Island of Death who had a hobby of snapping wild beasts' necks before breakfast.

Xara threw the black panther carcass right at Arthur's feet.

Thud!

Dust billowed once again.

"Hey, foreigner who's good at cooking!" exclaimed Xara with a loud voice that shook the hut's pillars. Her gaze immediately locked onto Arthur's body from top to bottom, exactly like a housewife picking out discounted meat at the market.

Arthur gulped. His danger instincts were screaming loudly. In the modern world, elite socialite girls lined up to become his wife for status and wealth. But in front of this monster-powered barbarian girl, trillion-dollar business logic clearly didn't apply!

"W-wait a minute, Miss," Arthur raised his hands, automatically entering high-level negotiation mode. "If you want to ask for an extra ration of roast meat, the procedure must go through Xylok in HRD. I don't accept personal requests outside of—"

Before Arthur could even finish speaking, Xara dashed forward. Her movements were way too fast for a normal human.

In a split second, the wild woman was already standing right in front of Arthur. Her calloused and muscular right hand immediately grabbed Arthur's shirt collar.

With absurd raw strength, Xara lifted the CEO's body with one hand, as lightly as picking up a kitten. Their faces were now almost touching. Arthur could smell the scent of the forest, sweat, and fresh blood from the woman in front of him.

"Procedure? I don't care about your weird rules!" growled Xara, a smirk appearing on her lips. Her eyes radiated a possessive aura that gave Arthur severe goosebumps. "I saw the way you subdued my father and Grok. You are smart, cunning, and your cooking made our ancestors cry. You are worthy of me!"

Arthur's feet dangled in the air. His prestige and arrogance as a CEO instantly crumbled to pieces in the face of the threat of pure physical muscle.

"M-miss... let's talk about this nicely," Arthur tried to smile, even though his face was already deathly pale. "Cooperation requires a two-way agreement. We haven't done our due diligence—I mean, getting to know each other. What is your actual goal?!"

Xara laughed loudly, a crisp laugh that oddly sounded very dominant.

"My goal? Simple!" Xara stared straight into Arthur's eyes, tightening her grip on the man's shirt collar. "Starting from this second, you are my Husband! I will protect you from the monsters on this island, and your only job is to cook meat as delicious as last night's for me every day. Understand?!"

Arthur's brain instantly short-circuited.

Just this morning he felt cool for successfully colonizing a cannibal tribe. This afternoon, he was instead forcefully colonized by a barbarian princess asking for marriage through the route of violent threats!

"In my tribe, a man who rejects the proposal of a strong woman will have both his legs broken so he can't run away," whispered Xara in a tone that was half teasing and half threatening. "So, my Husband... do you want me to break your left leg, or your right leg?"