Since the three foreigners had already committed the unforgivable act of abduction, it was clear they had completely lost hope for rescue and might have turned on the rest of the survivors next. With their combined strength, the others stood no chance against them.
So although everyone felt a lingering fear toward the mysterious man in black who killed them, what filled their hearts even more was gratitude. He hadn't just saved the two flight attendants — he had eliminated a deadly threat for them all.
But not everyone felt that way.
The bodyguard, Wang Jianqiang, felt nothing but hostility toward this mysterious savior — and, deep down, a sense of danger.
Among the survivors, almost all were women, elderly, or injured. He was the only strong man — and it was largely his presence that kept the group safe. Without him, those three foreigners might have done whatever they pleased long ago.
The fish he caught made up a large share of their food. His daily catch alone equaled that of two or three others combined.
Gradually, realizing how indispensable he was, Wang Jianqiang began to see himself as the group's leader. He started giving orders, bossing people around, even speaking to the old man with less respect than before.
No one liked it, but since he had indeed done his part, they quietly endured it.
Now, with the three foreigners dead, the island was effectively his domain — and he, its ruler. But this mysterious man's sudden appearance was a threat to that dominance.
Still, he wasn't afraid. As an elite bodyguard, his combat skills were unquestionable — otherwise he wouldn't have been the personal security for the Zhongheng Group's chairman.
Sure, he might not have been confident facing three burly, spear-wielding foreigners at once, but in a one-on-one fight, he believed there was no one he couldn't beat.
In his mind, the mysterious man was just a coward who hid in the shadows — someone who had probably ambushed the foreigners when they were distracted. If it were me, he thought smugly, I could've done the same.
When he noticed the two flight attendants' faces filled with admiration and gratitude as they spoke of their savior, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes. He sneered and said coldly:
"We need to be careful of that man. Someone who hides in the dark like that definitely has something to hide. And killing three men so casually? That's not something a normal person does — he's probably a fugitive or a professional killer."
Ironically, though Wang's accusation was meant to slander Chen Mo, he had, without realizing it, guessed the truth — at least about the man's bloody experience.
Zhang Lan and her fellow attendant immediately protested.
"But he saved our lives! He didn't hurt anyone — not a single one of us!"
Having been rescued themselves, they couldn't allow anyone to defame him.
"Whatever the reason, he's still a murderer," Wang insisted. "According to the law, that's a capital crime."
At that, the two young girls — who had long guessed that this "mysterious man in black" was the same person who'd pulled them from the wreckage and secretly left food for them — puffed up angrily.
"Don't forget," said Xu Qing, her cheeks red with indignation, "the food we found on the beach — it was from him!"
Hearing that, Su Wan suddenly understood. So that was why the girls were always so lucky — it wasn't luck at all. The mysterious man had been helping them this whole time.
Everything made sense now — even that earlier incident when the three foreigners suddenly stopped bullying the girls after robbing them of their canned food. That must have been his warning.
He had been watching over them all along.
Without him, they might not have survived this long.
Su Wan shared her realization aloud, and everyone — even the captain and the old man — nodded in agreement.
No wonder the girls' "luck" had seemed so miraculous. It wasn't heaven's favor; it was the quiet protection of a hidden guardian.
Wang Jianqiang clenched his fists, fury burning under his skin. He said nothing more — but when he looked at Su Wan, there was a trace of something darker, something twisted, in his eyes.
Hidden in the nearby forest, Chen Mo saw and smirked coldly.
Even though the survivors now knew of his existence, he still didn't reveal himself. If he wanted to appear before them, he'd have to wear his full combat armor — and frankly, he had no intention of staying suited up twenty-four hours a day.
To the survivors, life on this island was a desperate struggle for survival.
To Chen Mo, it was a vacation.
Here, on this isolated island, there were no conspiracies, no battles for power — not even real fights. He could simply sit back, like a god observing mortals, watching them struggle from the shadows.
Were it not for the three foreigners crossing his bottom line, he wouldn't have even bothered killing them.
Unlike in the movie worlds where he had to stay tense, ruthless, and sharp, here in the real world he could finally breathe — relax — let his killing intent fade away.
With his current strength, as long as he didn't act recklessly, there was nothing on Earth that could threaten him.
By day, while the others searched for food along the shore, Chen Mo lounged unseen nearby — hammock tied between two trees, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, napping like a man on holiday. By night, while they slept in their makeshift shelters, he would retreat to his own large tent and sleep soundly inside a warm sleeping bag.
He was their silent overseer — a hidden god ensuring their survival through timely "airdrops."
Chen Mo didn't see himself as a hero — but not as a villain either. He'd do whatever it took to protect himself and his family, yet he also wasn't the kind of man to stand idly by while innocents suffered… so long as helping them didn't endanger him.
Just like on the plane — when he escaped the burning wreck, he'd taken the two women beside him, simply because it hadn't cost him any extra effort. As for the others still trapped… saving them would've been suicide. Cold? Maybe. But his conscience was clear.
Helping the survivors afterward — that was half compassion, half foresight.
Even during what he called "vacation," Chen Mo's instincts to plan and strategize never rested. That was why he kept secretly observing the group — studying each person's character, temperament, and potential.
Originally, he had even considered recruiting the three foreigners. Their calm under pressure and physical strength made them good candidates — until they let greed and desire consume them.
And so, he'd had to end them himself.
Time passed. A full month since the crash.
Then — a change.
Within Chen Mo's mind, the inner space shifted again. Its once-vague boundaries became transparent, and beyond them shimmered a starry void.
But unlike before, this time there were two radiant spheres of light floating beyond the veil.
His experiences in the Captain America world had clearly strengthened his spirit. Two worlds now awaited — two potential destinations for his next traversal.
Focusing his consciousness, Chen Mo projected his will toward the glowing orbs. Instantly, two fragmented visions — disordered and incomplete — flashed into his mind.
Each image was a preview, a glimpse of the worlds connected to those lights… and a sign that his power had evolved once again.