Chapter 129: Repay in Kind

Chen Mo's tall figure emerged slowly from the dense woods by the shore. 

When Wang Jianqiang saw Chen Mo appear, he showed no surprise—instead, his expression was one of cold assessment. 

**"I've been waiting for you."** 

**"It wasn't easy luring you out."** 

As it turned out, everything Wang Jianqiang had done was a calculated ploy to draw Chen Mo into the open. 

Since he already knew there was a mysterious figure lurking on the island, how could Wang Jianqiang not be prepared? Being the personal bodyguard of a major corporation's chairman wasn't just about physical prowess—it required sharp instincts. He had to analyze potential threats in advance and handle them decisively. 

After the plane crash stranded them on this deserted island, his focus had shifted to survival, and his vigilance over his employer had waned. He had even underestimated the three foreigners, failing to prevent them from infiltrating the camp and kidnapping the flight attendants. 

But that only proved he had misjudged human nature. He hadn't expected them to act so boldly, to adapt so quickly to lawlessness. Yet their actions served as a wake-up call—this was a different world now. 

On this island, with no rescue and no laws, everything reverted to primal rules: strength dictated survival. And Wang Jianqiang was confident he was the strongest among the survivors. 

Eliminating Chen Mo—the only real threat—would leave him free to dominate the island as he pleased. 

He had scoured the island searching for Chen Mo but found no trace of him. Reflecting on the events since their stranding, Wang Jianqiang analyzed Chen Mo's behavior. The fact that he had secretly provided them with food suggested kindness, yet the ruthless slaughter of the three kidnappers also revealed a brutal side. 

Wang Jianqiang couldn't fully decipher this enigmatic figure, but one thing was certain: Chen Mo was watching them. And if anyone repeated the foreigners' crimes, he would intervene again. 

That was when Wang Jianqiang would strike, eliminating the sole obstacle to his control. 

So, despite his lust for Su Wan, his true focus had been on the woods—where Chen Mo was most likely hiding. 

And just as he predicted, Chen Mo appeared at the critical moment. 

Though Chen Mo had single-handedly killed the three foreigners, based on Zhang Lan's account, Wang Jianqiang deduced that the trio had been caught off guard, their attention fixated on the women they had abducted. A surprise attack in the dark would have made them easy prey—something even he could have managed. 

Chen Mo's refusal to show himself openly further convinced Wang Jianqiang that he was an assassin, relying on stealth rather than direct combat. 

As a top-tier bodyguard, Wang Jianqiang knew assassins. Their strength lay in ambushes and long-range kills, not hand-to-hand combat. Face-to-face, he was confident he could crush any assassin—Chen Mo included. 

Since the killings had happened in darkness, with no witnesses to describe the details, and the bodies disposed of, Wang Jianqiang had no way of knowing how Chen Mo had done it. 

Given strict airline security, it was nearly impossible to smuggle weapons aboard. Even if Chen Mo had somehow hidden arms in his luggage, the sudden crash would have left no time to retrieve them. 

So Wang Jianqiang assumed Chen Mo had used crude weapons—rocks, spears, perhaps. 

Now, as Chen Mo strode toward him clad in black tactical gear and a specialized mask, Wang Jianqiang smirked in confirmation. 

Chen Mo carried no visible weapons, aligning perfectly with his theory. 

Though Chen Mo's physique was taller and more imposing than expected, he still lacked Wang Jianqiang's sheer bulk and raw muscle. In terms of brute strength, Wang Jianqiang was sure he held the advantage. 

Combined with his elite combat skills, he was certain he could crush this meddling "assassin." Unlike those careless foreigners, he was prepared. 

As Chen Mo closed in, Wang Jianqiang's gaze sharpened. Shoving Su Wan back into the water, he advanced toward Chen Mo. 

When they were barely five meters apart, Wang Jianqiang suddenly reached behind his back—and in a flash, hurled a spear directly at Chen Mo's chest. 

The wooden fishing spear, though crude, was lethally sharp. Wang Jianqiang had practiced with it for days, and at this range, the attack was nearly impossible to dodge. 

This was his masterstroke. From the moment Chen Mo appeared, he had been waiting for this opportunity. No one would expect a sudden spear throw—especially not in what seemed like a direct confrontation. 

Even if Chen Mo somehow avoided it, he'd be left vulnerable for the next strike. And Wang Jianqiang had come prepared, carrying not one, but two spears. 

Yet what happened next made his pupils constrict in shock. 

Chen Mo's right hand snapped up—and caught the spear mid-air, its tip less than a foot from his heart. 

Wang Jianqiang's confidence wavered. He had underestimated this man. 

To react so swiftly, to possess such speed and strength—this was beyond his expectations. 

Grim-faced, Wang Jianqiang swiftly drew his second spear, gripping it tightly as he braced for Chen Mo's counterattack. 

Chen Mo glanced at the spear aimed at his chest, and a cold killing intent surged within him. 

He had sensed Wang Jianqiang's scheming, but in the real world, he restrained his urge to kill. Unless actions crossed into true threats, he preferred to observe. 

In the worlds he traversed, Chen Mo was decisive in slaughter, but here, he tempered his instincts. Those who merely fantasized about evil didn't warrant death—unless those fantasies endangered him or his family. 

And Wang Jianqiang? He posed no real threat. Every move he made was under Chen Mo's surveillance. Had he kept his dark desires to himself, he might have lived. 

But greed had blinded him. He chose his own demise. 

The island was small. Chen Mo's heightened hearing could track every sound, every word spoken, even over the crashing waves. 

Earlier, Chen Mo had been lounging in his hammock, enjoying breakfast. Though *Underworld*'s medieval setting lacked modern rations, its fresh fruits and roasted meats surpassed military rations in flavor. His inventory, free from decay in the oxygen-less space, held enough fruit to last ages. 

The remaining canned food and biscuits? He'd left those for the survivors—higher in calories, better for their desperate needs. 

The fruits? Those were his alone. 

Just as he bit into a banana—marveling at how much richer pre-industrial produce tasted—his ears caught an anomaly. 

Wang Jianqiang, who should have been fishing in deep waters, was instead trailing Su Wan toward a shallow cove. 

Chen Mo immediately understood his intent. Changing quickly, he set off to intervene. 

But he hadn't anticipated that *he* was Wang Jianqiang's true target. 

Now, gripping the spear he had effortlessly caught, Chen Mo studied the man before him—still gripping his second weapon, eyes filled with vicious resolve. 

A flicker of cold amusement crossed Chen Mo's mind. For all his lust-clouded judgment, Wang Jianqiang hadn't entirely lost his cunning. 

Too bad it wouldn't save him. 

With a sudden motion, Chen Mo raised the spear—and hurled it back with devastating force. 

Wang Jianqiang's eyes widened in horror as the weapon—*his* weapon—shot toward him faster than he could react. 

The spear tore through his chest with brutal force, its tip bursting out from his back before his body crumpled into the knee-deep water. 

The last thing Wang Jianqiang saw was the shaft protruding from his own ribs—before darkness swallowed him. 

The waves lapped at the spear now standing upright above the surface, marking his grave.