Chapter Forty-Five: The Arrival of Late Autumn

At dawn, Lu Chen awoke as usual to the sound of birdsong. He lazily crawled out of his cave, twisting his spine, and his body immediately gave off a series of crackling noises.

A new day had arrived.

In the blink of an eye, he had been in this world for half a year. From a tiny creature weighing only half a kilogram, he had grown into a monstrous being over a meter long and nearly thirty kilograms in weight—an astonishing rate of growth by any measure.

Last night, he had just devoured several plump egrets, yet now he was ravenous again.

There was nothing he could do about it... An explosively expanding body and burgeoning strength demanded even more high-quality food to satisfy. The waters around his cave could no longer meet his hunting needs, and Lu Chen was forced to venture farther afield in search of prey.

He glanced back at the three elder crocodiles still sleeping in the cave, then silently slipped out.

He couldn’t help but sneeze.

The temperature was still dropping!

A week ago, it had rained again, though only for three days.

But Lu Chen keenly sensed that the sunlight was no longer as fierce as before. The mornings grew ever chillier, and the time required to bask in the sun increased day by day.

Unwittingly, deep autumn had arrived.

Today, the wind blew over the river, adding to the chill. As Lu Chen slipped into the water, a wave of coldness seeped into his body.

Fortunately, it was still within his tolerance.

After one round of evolution, his ability to adapt to temperature changes had increased considerably.

Half a minute later, he swam soundlessly toward the riverbank, near an animal trail not far away.

Morning was when herbivores were most active at the water’s edge—perhaps he could catch an ideal prey.

Reaching his ambush point, his meter-long body settled completely at the bottom of the river. With a few lazy swipes of his claws, a thin layer of silt covered his scales and armor, perfectly blending him into his surroundings.

From the water’s surface, not a trace could be seen.

But Lu Chen was disappointed. He lay in wait at the riverbed for a full hour until his limbs were numb with cold, but no prey appeared, nor did he catch any unusual scent in the air.

He had no choice but to swim farther, eventually coming ashore near another animal trail.

Not long ago, Lu Chen had discovered signs of a herd of wild goats in the area and had set a deep pit trap, hoping for a good haul today.

A hundred meters from the trap, he sniffed the air and grew annoyed again.

Once he reached the spot, it was as expected—the trap had not been triggered.

He carefully examined the cover of branches and dead leaves, making sure everything was intact, then returned to the river to check his second trap.

The moment he climbed ashore, a flash of delight shone in his beastly eyes.

A faint scent of blood drifted over—clearly, something had fallen into the trap.

Full of anticipation, Lu Chen hurried toward the end of the grass.

Seconds later, he stood at the edge of the pit, a hint of puzzlement in his gaze.

The cover had collapsed, and sharp bamboo spikes at the bottom were stained with dark brown blood. But… where was the prey? Had it escaped after being wounded, or had some other carnivore stolen it?

Sniffing more carefully, Lu Chen quickly caught a familiar scent.

Soon he noticed clear drag marks in the damp earth, along with several sets of deep and shallow “plum blossom” paw prints.

Damn it… He immediately recognized an old acquaintance—the clouded leopard.

That rascal hadn’t changed its thieving ways; had it already forgotten the pain of being injured and was now targeting his prey again?

He couldn’t let it run rampant any longer!

Otherwise, as before, he’d spend all day setting traps only for the clouded leopard to swoop in and reap the rewards.

After thinking it over, Lu Chen decided to follow the scent trail into the forest.

That creature’s right hind leg was still injured and hadn’t healed, likely turning it into a cripple. For a clouded leopard, whose greatest advantage was speed, this was a fatal blow.

With its speed lost, Lu Chen no longer feared it.

He raced on for several hundred meters, then suddenly stopped, staring warily at the dense undergrowth around him.

The clouded leopard’s scent vanished beneath a large tree.

But nearby, a jumble of sharp, pungent odors had appeared, all too familiar to Lu Chen.

It was wolf urine and dung, the unique markers of their territory.

He soon spotted large patches of dried blood, along with the remains of a skeleton and scraps of fur.

So… after the clouded leopard stole the prey, it hadn’t even gotten a bite before running into a patrol of wolves.

Serves it right!

With the outcome clear, Lu Chen felt somewhat better.

Worried that the wolves might return, he didn’t linger but retreated straight to the river.

It took him over two hours before he finally found a young muntjac nibbling tender shoots among the riverside bushes.

This animal looked much like a sika deer, but its antlers were unbranched and its body much smaller.

The muntjac was timid and highly alert, fleeing into the brush at the slightest sound.

This, too, was common among all herbivores.

If he chased it head-on, the prey would likely escape.

His recent success hunting wild boar piglets had given him confidence, so this time Lu Chen decided to try a new tactic—circling around to drive his prey toward the river.

Just as he expected, the moment he appeared a hundred meters away, the muntjac sensed danger.

It raised its head warily, glanced about... then, seeing no threat, continued to graze.

Seeing it hadn’t noticed him, Lu Chen crept closer.

After another dozen meters, the prey sensed something amiss.

Without hesitation, it sprang toward the thicket.

Lu Chen had anticipated this.

With a sudden burst of power from his strong limbs, he shot out of the grass.

Thud, thud, thud!

His speed soared; in just two or three seconds he’d covered twenty meters, blocking the muntjac’s escape.

Cut off, the animal stopped and spun around in panic.

It bolted blindly into the marshy ground at the river’s edge, only for its hooves to sink into the wet, soft mud, slowing it further.

Lu Chen darted forward, closing the distance with each leap.

The little muntjac sensed death descending—its wild eyes filled with terror as it cried out in despair.

Lu Chen felt no pity. He leaped, jaws clamping down on its hind leg.

At once, his body twisted in midair.

A crunch—bones shattered beneath his bite.

The muntjac lost its balance, stumbled forward several meters, and tumbled into the mud.

With its hind leg broken, it struggled to flee but couldn’t even stand.

Thanks to the ceaseless influx of energy, the strength in Lu Chen’s claws now reached an astonishing fifty kilograms—on par with the arm strength of an average adult human, even surpassing cats of comparable weight.

With greater strength came more varied means of attack.

He approached again, striking the muntjac’s neck with his powerful claws, knocking it to the ground.

Then he bit down on its throat, performing a death roll.

Blood gushed out in bubbling streams, and the muntjac soon fell silent...

Lu Chen opened his jaws, panting as he quickly released the heat building up in his body.

His burst of speed and strength had left him exhausted.

But he knew this was no time to relax. The strong scent of blood would soon carry far on the wind, possibly attracting other predators.

He had to leave at once.