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

Once the idea came to mind, Zhao Shanhe no longer hesitated.

The muddy water was still seeping out from the edge of the tiger paw print, which meant that the beast hadn't gone far at all, and was probably lying behind a thick red pine tree nearby, staring intently at him.

He suddenly turned around, gritted his teeth, and kicked over the windproof stone next to the fire pit.

With a "whoosh".

Unburnt firewood and black ash were kicked everywhere, and sparks fell into the mud with a hissing sound as they went out.

He strode over to the fallen log and ripped off the frozen, wet cotton-padded coat. Without even glancing at the canvas bag he had used as bait, he tossed it into the nearby mud puddle like trash.

There's an old saying in the old forest: When mountain travelers flee for their lives, they don't take a single piece of equipment with them.

That's exactly the kind of pathetic look he wanted—a look of utter desperation, where the person was so scared they didn't even care about their belongings.

"Black Dragon, let's go! Down the mountain!"

Zhao Shanhe growled at the dog, his voice deliberately carrying an undisguised hint of impatience and fear, even his tone was cracked.

The black dragon immediately tucked its tail between its legs and let out a panicked whimper.

Zhao Shanhe turned around, chose a steep slope leading downhill, and ran away.

This is an extremely precise exploitation of the worm's Achilles' heel.

The overlord of these mountains isn't afraid of you stalling in one place, nor is it afraid of you circling around in the forest; what it fears is you running straight down the mountain to escape. Once the prey rushes out of this deep forest and runs back to the edge of a populated village, the fat meat it has spent the whole night scavenging for will be gone forever.

really.

His act of "collapsing and descending the mountain" finally made the mountain lord, who had been calm and collected all along, anxious.

Zhao Shanhe ran haphazardly, deliberately trudging through the thick pile of dead leaves, his gun barrel occasionally "accidentally" hitting a tree trunk with a dull thud.

The man and the dog ran for their lives, covering about half a mile.

From the perpetually silent forest behind them, a faint "shh" sound suddenly came.

Like some enormous creature weighing several hundred kilograms, its thick, fleshy paws crushed the withered leaves as it ran at top speed.

Zhao Shanhe's running pace suddenly stopped, the hairs on the back of his head stood on end, and he looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He turned around abruptly.

The dark forest was deathly silent.

As far as the eye could see, there wasn't even a single swaying leaf.

But the extremely cold, nauseating, and pungent fishy wind in the air had already clung to my face along with the cold wind.

They've caught up.

Moreover, it can stop a massive body weighing four or five hundred pounds instantly during a high-speed chase, without making the slightest unnecessary noise.

Zhao Shanhe's eyes twitched violently twice.

Without the slightest hesitation, he gripped the handguard of the semi-automatic rifle tightly with his left hand, thrusting the butt into his shoulder socket, and frantically pulled the trigger with his right index finger.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The Type 56 semi-automatic rifle spewed fire, and the deafening gunshots echoed through the old forest at dawn.

A volley of pointed bullets swept ruthlessly into the clump of withered trees swept by the stench of the wind, instantly blasting the rotten wood as thick as a calf and the frozen mud on the ground into countless fragments.

Zhao Shanhe didn't even bother to check if he had hit the target.

This half-bullet wasn't meant to kill the enemy; it was an old hunter's life-saving measure, a way to pull himself together at the last second.

The deafening roar of volleys and the flying wood chips forcefully disrupted the giant worm's attack rhythm.

Having emptied half of the magazine, he didn't even glance at it, and used the recoil to suddenly turn around.

"Walk!"

He changed direction without hesitation, leading the black dragon.

Instead of heading straight down the mountain, they dashed towards the more treacherous "Headless Cliff" like headless flies startled by the gunfire.

The wind howled wildly in my ears, like countless blunt knives scraping my cheeks.

But he had only run less than two hundred steps when...

From the dense forest to the right rear, a muffled rustling sound came again.

This time, the commotion was more rapid than before, accompanied by the cracking sound of thick, withered branches being snapped in two, and the stench of blood became even more violent.

The mountain lord, whose attack rhythm had been interrupted, was completely enraged.

No longer caring about concealment, it relentlessly pursued its prey with a terrifying sense of oppression, relentlessly pushing forward along its path.

Zhao Shanhe gritted his teeth so hard they cracked, and the veins on his forehead bulged out.

The plan was successfully completed.

Now it's a matter of whether this beast weighing several hundred pounds will bite his neck first, or whether he will rush into that one-way abyss first.

The "Headless Cliff" in the old forest is a dangerous place.

That wasn't a proper mountain peak, but rather two sheer cliffs that looked as if God had cleaved them apart with an axe, squeezed together with only a narrow crevice less than two meters wide in between.

There was no way out at the end of the crevice; only a bare rock protruding from the sea hung in mid-air, below which lay a bottomless ravine of decaying rocks.

If humans and wild animals are forced to this point, they have no choice but to jump off the cliff or wait to die.

But for an experienced gunner holding a firearm, this narrow crevice in the rocks, with nowhere to get a foothold on either side, is a perfectly formed gun barrel.

No matter how the enormous creature, weighing hundreds of kilograms, maneuvered and twisted, once it entered this crevice, it could only charge forward head-on, facing the gun barrel.

Zhao Shanhe fled for his life with the black dragon, his lungs feeling like they were being pulled into a broken bellows, each breath carrying a heavy, bloody smell.

The stench behind them grew stronger, and they could almost smell the nauseating stench of rotting flesh coming from the beast's mouth.

The black dragon was running so fast it was foaming at the mouth, and its four legs were tumbling in the mud.

"Swish-click!"

The bushes to his left rear suddenly parted to the sides, revealing a huge, yellow and black afterimage carrying a terrifying aura, like a gust of wind rising from the ground, heading straight for Zhao Shanhe's back.

too fast.

On flat ground, a person with two legs simply cannot outrun this mountain spirit.

Zhao Shanhe abruptly stopped, using the momentum to slide forward half a meter through the pile of decaying leaves. He supported the handguard with his left hand, and while half-turning, he gripped the trigger tightly with his right index finger.

"Bang bang bang bang bang!"

He pried out the remaining half of the magazine of the Type 56 semi-automatic rifle in one go.

Blinding flames spewed wildly from the dim tree trunks, and scorching brass cartridge cases pounded against the muddy ground with a crackling sound, emitting puffs of white smoke.

Bullets sent fragments of the thick pine trunk flying everywhere, tearing a brief suppressive fire barrier between the man and the tiger.

Forced to a sudden halt by the relentless barrage of gunfire, the massive worm, weighing four or five hundred pounds, nimbly twisted to the side and instantly disappeared behind a tree so thick that it would take three people to encircle it.

Taking advantage of these last few seconds of respite, bought with half a magazine of bullets.

Zhao Shanhe grabbed the gun sling and plunged into the dense thicket of spiked clubs in front of him without looking back.

The sharp thorns instantly tore through his soaked cotton-padded coat, leaving more than a dozen bleeding cuts on his face and the back of his hands, but he didn't even flinch.

It roughly smashed through the last patch of bushes.

Suddenly, the view opened up before me, and a cold wind, carrying the chill of the abyss, rushed into my chest.

Arrived.

Two cold, hard black stone cliffs stood before us like iron gates, with dark green, damp moss growing in the narrow crevice between them.

At the end, the huge rock protruding from the cliff looked precarious in the morning breeze.

Zhao Shanhe exhaled large wails of hot air, then slammed the empty Type 56 semi-automatic rifle onto a rock at his feet, making a dull metallic clang.

Instead of retreating to the very edge of the boulder, he skillfully wedged himself behind a protruding rock in the middle of the crevice.

He knelt heavily on one knee, his left arm tightly wrapped around the canvas strap of the old hunting rifle, the butt of the rifle firmly slamming into the hollow of his right shoulder.

The large bullet in the gun barrel was already loaded.

Black Dragon lay down close to his thigh, suppressing a low growl of defiance in his throat, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the swaying bushes at the entrance to the crevice.

Zhao Shanhe silently flicked the safety off his shotgun with his chapped thumb.

His eyes, reddened by the cold wind, were now as calm as a bottomless pool of stagnant water.

He stared intently at the cliff entrance a dozen steps away.

"Come on, you beast."