Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

The giant, mottled beast ahead had its forepaws firmly gripping the boar's back. Its five tiger claws, as sharp as steel, were embedded in the thick boar skin. With just a slight downward pressure, the 300-pound wild boar, which had been convulsing wildly in the mud, suddenly stiffened and died instantly.

Scalding hot pig's blood gushed out from the ruptured carotid artery, mingling with a strong, fishy stench as a cloud of white mist rose in the cold, dark forest.

The camp was in complete chaos. The wild boars screamed and crashed through the bushes, scattering in all directions to escape, but the giant worm didn't even lift an eyelid.

Like a new king entitled to the tribute, it bit the boar's neck tightly, its throat emitting a low, rolling sound.

Zhao Shanhe's gun had already been silently extended, the sights of the shotgun cutting through the dry branches and mud, and clamping down on the tiger's shoulder and neck.

But he held the breath he was holding in his chest, and stubbornly kept his index finger on the trigger, not moving an inch.

Don't rush.

Never gamble.

The beast's current posture, with its two extremely thick front shoulder blades like two fleshy shields, tightly protects its throat and heart.

Even if this shot shatters its bones, it might not kill it instantly.

If one shot doesn't kill, it will provoke this mountain tiger weighing several hundred pounds. In this old forest where even turning around is difficult, both people and dogs will be torn to pieces.

Even if we take a step back and use the Type 56 rifle to sweep the enemy's back to save his life, the complete cat skin that Ivanov specifically requested would then be completely ruined.

If the leather is ruined, the factory will have no way to survive.

Therefore, he must be killed with a single shot.

Except for those few absolutely fatal weaknesses, guns must never be fired.

Zhao Shanhe's eyes were bloodshot from the mud and water, and he didn't even blink. Like a piece of cold, hard iron, he stared intently at the giant beast in the mirror.

and so on.

Finally, the giant worm seemed to have eaten a large piece of fat and slowly raised its enormous head from the pool of blood.

Thick blood dripped down the tiger's whiskers.

Zhao Shanhe's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of needles.

The moment the tiger raised its head, a small section of the softest, most deadly flesh between its jaw and neck was finally revealed from under the cover of its front shoulder.

If only it were raised just one inch higher.

Just one inch.

A single bullet can easily shatter its throat and major artery.

Zhao Shanhe's knuckles tightened sharply on the trigger, his muscles fully prepared to fire.

But at this critical moment, the giant worm suddenly stopped.

It didn't continue biting, nor did it raise its head; it just stood there, its mouth full of blood.

Immediately afterwards, its two semi-circular ears on the top of its head suddenly seemed to receive some kind of signal, turning sharply backward and then tensing up tightly.

It is listening.

Zhao Shanhe's heart sank sharply.

What on earth is that beast listening to?

The wind direction clearly hasn't changed.

He lay face downwind, his entire body covered in cold, foul-smelling mud that had been rotting all winter, completely obscuring even the last trace of warmth and body odor that belonged to a living person.

The black dragon beside him was pressed firmly into the mud, so that even the faintest sound of its intestines moving was suppressed.

This is definitely not a case of our side revealing a weakness.

The old forest was so quiet, so what did it hear? What did it sense?

Zhao Shanhe's mind was racing with thoughts.

Suddenly, the giant, colorful beast in front stopped listening, and its enormous head turned around without warning.

There were scattered miscellaneous trees and dark, muddy mist about twenty steps away.

Those cold, violent amber vertical pupils swept with extreme precision toward the piece of dead wood where Zhao Shanhe was hiding.

Zhao Shanhe's heart clenched for a split second, almost stopping. A bone-chilling cold shot from his tailbone to the top of his head, and his scalp broke out in a fine layer of white sweat.

He was shocked.

He saw me.

That beast actually saw me clearly despite his flawless disguise!

In the brief silence, the gazes of the man and the tiger seemed to collide violently in the icy air.

That was an absolute bloodline suppression and a silent standoff between top hunters.

They've been discovered; the disguise has completely failed.

Zhao Shanhe instantly increased the pressure of his fingertip on the trigger, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged out.

We can't wait any longer until we hit a fatal weakness.

Even if his most vulnerable throat wasn't exposed, even if a single shot would shred the skin into rags, he had to strike first. Otherwise, once this four- or five-hundred-pound monster pounced on him with a whirlwind, at such close range, he wouldn't even have a chance to fire a second shot!

Just as Zhao Shanhe's index finger was about to pull the trigger completely.

The giant worm suddenly and abruptly withdrew its gaze.

The ferocity in its eyes seemed to vanish instantly. It turned its head and casually bit the thick nape of the boar's neck, its front shoulder slightly lowering as it exerted force.

Accompanied by a dull dragging and friction sound.

It dragged the 300-pound wild boar carcass, turned its massive body, and swaggered toward the extremely dark and dense thicket to its side and rear.

A glaring blood ditch was plowed out of the muddy ground.

In the blink of an eye, that colorful figure disappeared into the abyss like a drop of black and yellow ink, vanishing completely into the dark depths of the forest.

The old forest fell silent again.

The wild boar herd fled far away.

The swaying of the bushes gradually stopped.

All that remained was the blood-stained ditch dug out by the wild boar carcass in the mud, still slowly seeping out dark red blood.

But Zhao Shanhe still didn't move.

He maintained that extremely stiff gun-holding posture, the muzzle pressed firmly against the shadow where the worm had disappeared.

The shoulders were not relaxed.

The finger did not leave the trigger.

He was even holding his breath tightly in his chest.

Because he knew very well in his heart.

That beast definitely found me.

This is the top-notch hunter's intuition honed through a lifetime of arduous training in deep mountains and forests.

Although I don't know why this ferocious beast, weighing four or five hundred pounds, didn't rush over with a foul stench, there's definitely something wrong here.

It's looking for an opportunity.

It's waiting for the person in the shadows to give in first.

Zhao Shanhe lay prone in the mud, like a piece of cold, raw iron, enduring the pain.

The sky gradually darkened.

The sun had completely sunk behind the mountains, and the light in the old forest seemed to have been drained away, with a chilling cold seeping into the bones through the muddy puddles.

Half of his body was numb and had lost all feeling; only the index finger on the trigger retained the strength to fire.

Just then, a faint rustling sound suddenly came from the dark bushes that had swallowed the giant insect.

The withered branch swayed without warning. Zhao Shanhe's pupils contracted sharply, and his heart pounded in his chest.

I can't take it anymore.

This beast finally lost his patience and decided to make a move.

His fingertip tightened sharply on the trigger, and his index finger pressed down without hesitation. With just a little more force, the slug in the chamber would shatter the tangled branches in front of him.

"Puff puff puff—"

A sudden burst of rapid wing flapping sounds rang out.

A grey-brown titmouse took flight from the depths of the bushes, plunging fearlessly into the night sky.

Zhao Shanhe's nerves, which were taut to the point of breaking, suddenly relaxed in that instant.

The finger silently withdrew from the firing point.

The fact that birds do not disturb the forest indicates that there is no living creature suppressing the malevolent energy below.

That big worm really did retreat.

Zhao Shanhe slowly exhaled a breath of white mist mixed with the smell of mud.

He braced himself against the rough, withered wood with one hand, enduring the piercing pain as if thousands of steel needles were simultaneously piercing his kneecap, and forcefully pulled himself out of the mud.

It was getting completely dark.

If this soaking muddy body isn't cleaned up, the low temperatures in the old forest at night could freeze a person to death in the ditch.

We must move immediately and find a sheltered cliff to spend the night.

He grabbed the black dragon, who was still shivering in the mud, locked the safety on his shotgun, and the two of them stumbled out of the depression.

It quickly blended completely into the deep night.

Absolute silence fell once more. The night wind howled through the bare treetops, sounding like a ghostly wail.

It was exactly half an hour after Zhao Shanhe left.

At the edge of the depression, deep within the thicket of bushes from which the titmouse had flown, a thick, withered branch was silently parted.

The magnificent beast, which should have retreated to its lair long ago, emerged slowly, like a weightless shadow, stepping over the fallen leaves.

The mangled wild boar carcass was carelessly discarded in a ditch just a few steps away.

It didn't leave at all.

The flying titmouse was merely a disguise, deliberately startled as it moved its massive body.

The forest overlord strolled over to the piece of dead wood where Zhao Shanhe had just been lying.

The enormous tiger head slowly lowered and gently sniffed the mud stains left on the withered tree bark.

Then, those violent and cold vertical pupils pierced through the darkness, staring intently at the direction Zhao Shanhe had retreated.