The area seemed desolate, with streetlights dim, and some not working at all.
The local town government didn't care much, given the connection to the indigenous people.
In America, there's no "one nation" kind of education. Indigenous people are seen as symbols of ignorance and savagery by the educated population. This idea is ingrained from childhood.
Many Native Americans don't receive formal education, leaving them voiceless. Even when they attend schools, they're often sent to harsh religious institutions, more like concentration camps than schools.
Their existence is seen as a stain on the "beacon of freedom," with no foreign country speaking for them. As a result, Native Americans and the current white population are seen as mortal enemies.
As long as Randy wasn't white, he could easily earn a base level of goodwill from Native Americans. However, even with that, their social standing was still higher than that of Asian Americans.
Native Americans were seen as the children of an old household, while Asian Americans were viewed as newly recruited servants.
Randy stood in front of the old house. The rain had passed through, and unlike Alice's haunted house, this one felt ordinary, like a farmhouse. The surroundings were decent. In front of the house, there was a piece of cultivated land, likely growing medicinal herbs. Behind the house, there were some horses and sheep.
The most noticeable thing was a variety of wooden sculptures, crooked and strange, under a rain shelter on the right side. There were more than a dozen, depicting Native warriors, archers, and spear-wielders, with their weapons being sharp and real. Some of the archers even had quivers strapped to their waists.
There were also vicious-looking wild animals like cougars, gray wolves, and grizzly bears. Behind the wooden statues was a warehouse, likely filled with even more wooden "troops."
Randy had sensed this scene before with his powers, but seeing it in person made it feel even more eerie. A regular person would need considerable skill to carve these.
Curious, Randy walked up to one of the archer statues. It was lifelike, and as he got closer, he felt as if he were being watched. He reached out to touch it but found nothing strange. It felt rough and amateurish, like an ordinary wood carving.
"I'd advise you not to touch those," a voice said.
Randy turned his head and saw a man peeking through the wooden window of the house, his face full of wrinkles.
It was him who had spoken, his voice strong and clear. The man wasn't wearing any Native American headdress, just a fashionable cowboy hat. If not for his face, he could easily be mistaken for a rancher.
Randy asked, "Wes Entasdi?"
That was his name, though people in town usually called him Old Chief Wayne.
His eyes were sharp, and he looked particularly serious.
"Yes, it's me."
Wes didn't seem like a man in his seventies, even his hair was still black. But after seeing Randy's face, he asked curiously, "Are you Chinese?"
"Chinese… American, but that's not the point."
Before Randy could finish, Wes's face darkened, "White man's dog, get out of my house."
He clearly mistook Randy for a "banana" (yellow on the outside, white on the inside), and didn't bother engaging further, slamming the window shut.
Annoyed, Randy casually knocked over one of the wooden statues.
Like dominoes, knocking one over caused a whole row to topple with a loud crash.
"Damn yellow-skinned monkey!"
The commotion clearly enraged Wes, who reopened the window and pointed a shotgun at Randy.
"I suggest you leave now," he growled.
Randy bent down to pick up one of the fallen Native warrior statues and snapped its head off in front of Wes.
He even commented, "Shame I can't use this to make boots."
"Bang!"
Wes couldn't contain his fury anymore and fired. But to his shock, Randy dodged the shotgun blast, almost like a scene from The Matrix.
He had fired a shotgun, yet Randy easily avoided the shot! Wes furrowed his brow, realizing this was no ordinary situation.
"Who are you?"
Randy merely gave him a cold look and continued what he was doing, twisting off the head of a cougar statue and kicking over another Native warrior statue.
"If you don't come out now, I'll burn all this junk," Randy said, heading toward the warehouse.
"Hmph, you've walked right into your own death!"
Wes's expression relaxed, showing no intention of stopping Randy. If Randy had destroyed a few statues and fled, Wes wouldn't have been able to do much. But now he was running straight into Wes's territory?
Wes put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply.
Immediately, Randy noticed the wooden statues around him begin to move. Their heads twisted mechanically, all turning to face him with eerie gazes.
"What, are you going to perform a play for me?" Randy asked mockingly, turning to Wes.
"The show hasn't even started yet."
Wes clapped his hands, and the warehouse door opened, revealing a fully assembled wooden army.
In the front row were warriors with wooden shields and axes, followed by spearmen, archers, and javelin throwers. To their sides were countless wild beasts.
In total, there were more than a hundred, densely packed and unsettling.
Although their formation was impressive, their movements remained stiff.
"Creative work, but unfortunately not practical. The police station in Southtown could wipe them out with firearms," Randy remarked.
He couldn't help but wonder if the old chief was trying to mimic Emperor Qin, creating his own terracotta army for the afterlife.
"It hasn't truly started yet."
As soon as Wes finished speaking, the wooden army parted to make way for three Native American chiefs dressed in traditional feathered headdresses, holding horns and prayer beads.
When the three chiefs blew their horns, the statues seemed to come to life, their movements becoming natural. They even began forming a formation to surround Randy.
Wes shouted, "One word from me, and you'll be turned into a pincushion."
"Oh?"
Randy just laughed. Trying to use wooden statues against a wood elemental?
He calmly walked out of the warehouse, and as he did, the wooden statues stepped aside, even following him, their movements becoming more agile and natural. Flowers began to bloom on their bodies, exuding a strong life force.
Wes's expression turned to shock.
"What's going on? Why have my statues switched sides?!"