abnormal mutation

Chapter 8 Hunter and Prey

If the bear's accomplices are still around, they'll most likely be living in the workers' dormitories on the east side of the factory. They're open to the public, and you can make do for a night for a few cents. Renting a room wouldn't cost much either, and it's much better than the hunter's lodge.

In Ice River Town, those who earn weekly wages are considered respectable people; most workers are paid daily, and the sawmill is no exception. Worker turnover is high here, and no one pays attention to unfamiliar faces.

For the sawmill's managers, the people from White Bear Labor Service Company were mostly unfamiliar faces, but Roland was not; he came frequently.

He stroked his stubble, caught in a dilemma.

He didn't know Ugly Bear's accomplices, but they most likely knew him, as did the factory managers. Going in to inquire would likely expose him. Even if he successfully killed them, the law enforcement officers could use that to track him down. The counterattack at the hunter's hut could be considered self-defense, but being chased here was impossible to justify.

After thinking for a long time, he came up with a clumsy method: waiting for the rabbit to run into his trap.

Ugly Bear is dead, and the rest of them can't just sit here waiting. Whether they head to the Hunter's Lodge or return to Glacier Town, leaving this place is their chance.

He took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. It was almost two in the afternoon, with only five hours left until dark. The drive home from the sawmill would take nearly two hours, leaving him with very little time.

"I can only wait until five o'clock at the latest."

Roland snapped his pocket watch shut and led the two wolves to the top of the snow slope south of the sawmill. From there, the view was wide open, and the black wolf would not miss any movement.

There were far fewer people coming and going from the sawmill today than usual, and the few who did pass by were all in a hurry, their sleds piled high with wood as they left. Roland observed carefully but did not spot anyone who resembled Ugly Bear's accomplices.

Time passed second by second, the sun sank, and it slowly approached five o'clock in the afternoon.

Just when Roland thought he was going to get nothing, a group of five people left together from the south gate. Each of them wore a pair of fur skis, were dressed warmly, carried no goods, and had no hunting dogs with them.

After they left, they headed south, avoiding the main roads. Their skiing movements were crisp and efficient, suggesting they were all young people.

"Finally out." Roland pulled out his ski poles and jumped down the snow slope, with the two wolves following closely behind.

He didn't chase after them directly, but instead avoided the main road, leading the two wolves stealthily forward. This area was sparsely populated, so doing so wasn't difficult.

The two groups were thousands of yards apart, gliding almost parallel towards Glacier Town. Neither side could see the other, but the two wolves could easily track their "prey".

More than half an hour later, the terrain became flatter and the trees became sparse, and a thousand yards was no longer enough to block the line of sight between the two sides.

Roland was prepared. He beckoned, and the two wolves pounced from one behind, silently merging into his body like two wisps of black smoke. He felt warm all over, and his tired body was revitalized.

He slung his large backpack over his shoulder, slung his bag over his shoulder, adjusted his revolver to a comfortable position, and continued forward, his weathered body gradually shifting toward his "prey."

A few minutes later, the group appeared to Roland's left rear. He pretended not to notice what was behind him, trying his best to appear as an exhausted passerby, walking slowly and with difficulty, his pace getting slower and slower.

This place is more than ten Delhi away from Ice River Town. It's a desolate, snowy place with no one around. If someone dies here, there's no way to find out. It all depends on whether they are greedy.

The group huddled together and discussed the matter. They seemed to have some disagreements, but whether they were worried that the "hunters returning with a full load" might be hiding hunting rifles, or simply didn't want to cause any trouble, they didn't surround them and continued on their own.

The two sides were getting closer and closer, and it looked like they were about to pass each other.

Roland suddenly stopped, put the package on the ground, placed his large backpack on top, swept away the loose snow, took out his water bottle, removed his hat and mask, and made as if he was about to drink water.

"The boss's backpack—"

A gasp shattered the silence, then was torn apart by the cold wind, its fragmented sound drifting through the frigid air. The group of five came to an abrupt halt, sending up plumes of snow mist. Five pairs of eyes were fixed intently on the large, shiny brown backpack, the tooth pendant and sheathed hunting knife on it so familiar.

"Roland?" One of them looked at Roland with a look of surprise and disbelief.

The group was on high alert, frantically searching for weapons, the atmosphere tense to the point of being frozen.

"Looks like we didn't choose the wrong person," Roland sighed softly.

Since we haven't gone to the wrong person and they've stopped, all the pretense and probing can come to an end.

Two jet-black wolf heads rose from his body without warning, one on his left chest and one on his right shoulder. Their two front paws landed on Roland, and with a leap, they transformed into two giant wolves, landing on the snow.

The wolf's snout curled slightly upwards, revealing its chilling canine teeth. Its dark eyes were filled with indifference to life, and every time their eyes met, an invisible pressure could be felt, sending a chill straight up the spine.

The group was terrified by the bizarre scene. They tried to run, but their bodies seemed to be suffering from old age ailments; after struggling to move a few steps, they collapsed to the ground in vain. Ordinary wolves wouldn't have made them lose their courage, but this way of appearing was clearly unusual.

This effect was nothing short of overwhelming. Even Roland himself hadn't expected that as long as something was associated with the mysterious realm, others would be intimidated.

"You can't escape. Tell me everything you know. The two who perform best can leave unscathed, the rest... will lose an arm." Of course, Roland was lying to them; people always need a glimmer of hope.

He calmly pulled out his revolver, cocked the hammer, and tucked most of the gun into his sleeve, the muzzle firmly pointing at the group.

The group looked at each other in bewilderment. Some wanted to run away, some secretly watched others, and some stared blankly at a crossbow without any arrows. No one responded or made any rash moves.

"boom--"

Everyone shuddered in fright. In their sight, their companion holding the crossbow fell backward, his hands clutching his neck tightly, but he still couldn't stop the gushing of blood. The hot blood turned into white mist and drifted away with the wind.

With a blank expression, Roland pulled the hammer again, pointing the gun at another person, who was so frightened that he hurriedly dropped his knife on the ground.

"Five degrees, you only have five degrees of time." He said coldly, feigning indifference.

The situation was very delicate. If someone took the lead in resisting, others would probably blindly follow. He had to act quickly and decisively, otherwise it would be troublesome if he dragged it out and someone saw it.

His marksmanship was terrible; he aimed for the chest and neck from a distance of over ten yards. He was prepared to fire a second shot, but luckily it was a lucky miss.

The shot was very effective. After the remaining men realized what had happened, they rushed to reveal everything they knew, afraid of falling behind their comrades.

Roland used the muzzle of his gun to maintain order and quickly got to the bottom of it. Well, to sum it up, it was utterly worthless.

One piece of information, which was unrelated to him, caught his attention: it was said that some important figures from the capital would be coming to Ice River Town for a winter hunt soon. The White Bear Labor Company had made connections through some means and was taking on freight tasks, which, to put it bluntly, were low-level jobs such as moving, cleaning, and slaughtering.

This job may seem insignificant, but it's quite lucrative, and you might even have the opportunity to network with those in higher positions.

It seems this debt will have to be settled later.

Roland dared not defy the law and decided that after dealing with these people, it would be best to keep a low profile for a while.

(End of this chapter)