Chapter Thirty: The Failed Leopard Hunt

Suspicion and wariness flashed in the clouded leopard’s eyes… Something about the puddle’s surroundings was different today—there were many more branches and foliage obscuring the area. With its intelligence, the clouded leopard couldn’t discern the purpose of these branches, but instinctive wariness unsettled it. The creature hesitated, deciding to hide in the tree and observe for now.

Most wild animals behaved this way, alert to the extreme, for in nature’s embrace, every moment might bring lethal peril. A single careless step could mean death at the claws of a predator. Any unusual scent or environmental change immediately drew their attention.

Lu Chen had originally thought the clouded leopard would blunder into the trap as the giant snakehead had. But seeing the animal’s cautious reaction, he realized his plan had gone awry. Felines were far more intelligent than foolish fish; if there was any doubt about safety below, this one might well abandon the hunt.

After all his efforts, how could Lu Chen simply let it leave? After a moment’s thought, he decided to jump into the waterhole himself as bait, to dispel the leopard’s doubts.

To keep Boss Croc and the others from following, Lu Chen deliberately signaled them to stay put. The three saltwater crocodiles, long accustomed to obeying their leader, floated obediently at the water’s surface after receiving the command.

Inside the waterhole, Lu Chen caught a crucian carp but did not swallow it whole. With a crunch, he bit it in half, letting the scent of blood drift outward. He then savored his “delicacy.” In truth, Lu Chen was deeply anxious, exercising extreme caution throughout, his gaze flicking frequently toward the predator lurking in the banyan tree, worried it might do something unexpected—leap through the undergrowth and branches to appear before him. If the prey didn’t enter the trap and he was hunted instead, that would be a cruel joke indeed.

Seeing the reptile below quietly catching and eating fish, the clouded leopard’s suspicion finally faded. It saw no reason to wait any longer; as before, it leapt gracefully from the treetop, jaws parting to issue a low, threatening growl.

The moment the leopard jumped, Lu Chen darted away, swimming rapidly to the center of the river. With his head just above the water, he watched as the drama unfolded nearby.

With elegant steps, the clouded leopard followed the narrow path of branches, moving slowly to the edge where bamboo leaves carpeted the ground. Its attention was drawn to the fish stirring in the water, paying no mind to the scattered bamboo leaves and twigs at its feet—until its forepaw pressed down upon them.

A sudden, strange sound crackled beneath its claws.

Instantly, the clouded leopard felt itself plummeting downward. In panic, it flailed with razor-sharp claws, desperate to seize hold of something, but in the very next instant, a searing pain shot through its pelt.

With a howl of agony, terror filled its eyes. Driven by a fierce survival instinct, it did not hesitate: all four limbs pushed off in a wild leap. No sooner had it landed on the ground than it bolted into the distance, disappearing into the depths of the forest in a few bounds.

Damn… Lu Chen, sprawled at the water’s edge, could only watch in resignation, a hint of helplessness glimmering in his beastly eyes.

Plans never keep pace with change. No wonder felines are famed for their speed—this one escaped so quickly there was no chance for him to take advantage of its predicament.

For Lu Chen, the outcome was less than perfect, but his goal was likely achieved. After suffering such a setback, the clouded leopard probably wouldn’t dare return for a free meal any time soon. It might even lose its life. In the wild, without any anti-inflammatory medicine, an injury often spells death.

Lu Chen had seen clearly: the leopard bore at least two wounds, one of them on its abdomen. Suddenly, an idea struck him—why not quietly follow the scent of blood, perhaps he could pick up an easy meal?

He pondered briefly, then headed into the forest in pursuit. But before long, he had to abandon the chase. The animal had not kept running along the ground, but vanished beneath a large tree.

This clouded leopard was cunning, surely aware that its bloody scent might draw predators, so it had escaped up a tree.

Lu Chen also possessed the ability to climb, but after sniffing the air, he decided not to continue. He remained clear-headed: scavenging was worthwhile only if it didn’t lead him into danger. After all, the forest was home to other hunters, like the pack of gray wolves. Compared to those, his speed on land was sorely lacking.

Most importantly, the fact that the clouded leopard could still climb meant its injuries weren’t too severe. If he continued the pursuit, he might well end up ambushed instead.

***

With the clouded leopard driven off, life returned to tranquility. But Lu Chen did not relax—each day he remained diligent as ever. Besides hunting and exploring the surrounding environment, he spent much of his time leading the saltwater crocodiles in digging their den.

The structure of the lair was much like the one at Willow Lake: burrowed deep into the mountainside, with a main entrance and two hidden escape passages. In just a few days, they had dug nearly twenty meters in, and the second escape exit was complete. At last, Lu Chen could breathe easy.

After several days of exploration, Lu Chen also gained a deeper understanding of his whereabouts. As he had suspected, this mountainous forest teemed with wildlife. Having grown tired of fish and waterfowl, his gaze turned to terrestrial creatures. In his current form, he was more than capable of hunting small land animals.

Ordinary crocodiles usually hunt by lurking in the shallows, patiently waiting for prey to approach for a drink, then striking with deadly swiftness. This method is scattershot—the river is long, and there’s no telling where prey might appear.

Lu Chen had no patience for hours—or even a whole day—of ambush. For him, a more efficient method was to choose his ambush spot precisely.

As the saying goes, beasts prefer to walk on flat, unobstructed paths. The riverbanks were dense with reeds and thick grass, not ideal for animal trails. The paths they did use were often marked with droppings.

Lu Chen’s careful observation soon paid off. In just two hours, a wild hare appeared by the river. With a swift pounce, he dragged the prey into the water. To spare it further suffering, he quickly ended its life, then tore it apart with his claws and swallowed it whole.

As the meal digested, his system panel showed a gain of 4.5 energy points.

Life became blissful for a time—almost every day brought a good catch, though failures were frequent, too. Many prey were quick to react, fleeing at the first sign of trouble in the water.

During this period, Lu Chen realized he hadn’t seen his otter neighbors for several days. He swam to their den to investigate, but after half a day of waiting, there was no sign of them. Most likely, they had quietly moved elsewhere.

It made sense; the otters weren’t fools. Knowing that a formidable predator lurked nearby, they would hardly stay in their old home.