Chapter 213
Han Yaseong bared his thick killing intent, but when he saw the wild animals waiting like predators for something, he broke into a grin and expressed his gratitude.
"Thanks. I owe you guys my life."
So he handed over an entire box of chocolate bars. The beasts gladly accepted them, each grabbing one in their mouths before heading off together. The scouts had proven effective after all. All it cost was some food—no great expense. Using wild animals as scouts felt like the smartest move he'd made since arriving here.
"Yadong, wake up. We've got company."
Yadong, nose buried in the blanket, stirred awake with a yawn. Han Yaseong armed himself fully once more.
That bitch. You're dead meat.
Daring to launch a pre-dawn ambush? It went against every code. And with a shotgun no less? Absolutely unforgivable. He doubted even picturing Senior Choi Yujin sucking off some pretty boy's dick would spark this level of rage. This was the angriest he'd ever been in his life.
"Fuck all that. She's gotta die."
He pulled out his hand axe and gave it a once-over. If things got dicey, he'd hurl it straight into her face. He'd practiced embedding it in trees plenty of times before—seven or eight out of ten throws hit the mark. He straightened the dagger at his waist too. Without a gun of his own, he'd have to rely on throwing the hand axe and dagger in a pinch. Yadong strapped a dagger to its front leg and readied itself.
"Let's go."
Han Yaseong and Yadong slipped out of the shelter and vanished into the forest's shadows in no time. Dawn hadn't broken yet, so the wild animals were inactive, leaving the woods pitch-black and eerily silent. A few moons hung in the sky, but they were so small they barely lit the surroundings.
Han Yaseong sent Yadong out to scout first. He needed to know where that bitch was coming from. Once Yadong was off, he hunkered down in the forest to wait. About ten minutes later, Yadong returned.
"Where is she?"
Yadong let out a low growl and scratched a rough map into the dirt with its paw. She wasn't far off and was heading straight this way. Han Yaseong could tell she was coming to kill him.
"You dog of a bitch. I'm definitely killing you."
This was kill-or-be-killed now. If she hadn't pulled the trigger at first—or even later, if she'd ditched the gun—there might've been room to talk. But not anymore. She was out here before dawn, shotgun in hand, for a sneak attack. One of them had to die to end this.
Han Yaseong closed his eyes and pictured Forest 1's layout. Which way would she come? Definitely not through the rare plant zones. He'd avoid them himself—too risky with potential poisons. She'd stick to the safest routes, which narrowed it down to three: the path where they'd first spotted each other, the one to its right, or the long detour.
She probably wouldn't take the first one. Having bumped into him resting there, she'd deem it dangerous. So either the right path or the safe detour. But Han Yaseong's gut couldn't pick between them. Pinpointing her exact route was impossible.
This was where Yadong came in clutch.
"Follow her and let me know which path she takes."
Yadong growled and bounded off nimbly. With an enemy around, even it couldn't relax. It had seen the hole in his calf, after all. Recognizing the threat, it moved with purpose.
Han Yaseong pulled out a red fruit—its awakening effect would come in handy—and chewed it down. Lives were on the line; he'd use every tool available. Soon enough, superhuman power surged through him. His vision sharpened, picking out details a kilometer away. He could even hear distant leaves rustling. Every sense amplified, turning him fearless. He felt like he could punch a tiger dead. The aftereffects would suck later, but he had green fruits now. Yesterday's red fruit combo with yellow and green had left no backlash. Maybe the green ones boosted stamina and mitigated side effects from the others.
"Fucking bitch, you're done for."
Han Yaseong steadied his breathing, feeling smug in his enhanced state. She seemed pathetic now, like he could chase her down and end it on the spot. But the shotgun meant caution. He calmed himself and waited for Yadong.
Ten minutes passed. Yadong returned with a growl.
"Which way?"
He sketched the three paths on the ground. Yadong pawed at the detour. As expected—she was circling wide, playing it safe. No direct approach.
"Good job, Yadong. Keep tailing her."
Han Yaseong sent Yadong ahead and took the detour himself. The area was thick with plants, limiting access points. He arrived quickly and scanned around, guessing her entry. No luck pinpointing it, so he picked a solid ambush spot amid non-toxic foliage. She'd pass nearby for sure. Plan: chuck a dagger elsewhere to draw her shotgun that way, then charge from behind and cleave her skull with the hand axe.
He crouched in the underbrush, dagger in one hand, axe in the other, waiting. After a while, rustling echoed from afar—about fifty meters out. Leaves brushing steadily. She was coming.
Han Yaseong squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath. Even blind, his heightened senses tracked her approach. The rustling grew louder. He sensed Yadong trailing her cautiously twenty meters off—faint pawsteps. Good call on the red fruit. She moved quietly enough, but couldn't mask the foliage crunch. Her presence sharpened; distance closing: twenty meters, ten, five... He could almost hear her breathing.
Han Yaseong cracked his eyes. Faint moonlight silhouetted her—same ski gear, shotgun gripped in both hands, creeping along. Ski mask and goggles identical.
He waited. Four meters, three, two... She was right by his bush. He froze, breath held. One shotgun blast and he'd be done. Wait for her to pass.
She did. Her nape exposed. No need for the dagger distraction, but better safe—he flung it rightward with a soft thunk. She whipped around, back turned, shotgun aimed. Han Yaseong exploded from cover, slamming the hand axe into her crown.
Thwack! A dull thud. She screamed and staggered.
"Aaaagh!"
Too muffled for skull—felt like hard plastic. Weird, but no time to think. He swung again at her reeling head. Thwack! Another thud, then a crack as something inside shattered. Helmet. The impact floored her anyway, sprawling forward.
Boom! Shotgun roared—reflex fire as she fell.
Han Yaseong mounted her back, raising the axe for her nape. Then her whimpering voice:
"Don't kill me, please..."
Begging for mercy. He paused. Could subdue without killing. Still, to be sure, he bashed her helmet with the axe's blunt end. Thud! It lolled. A few more whacks—thump thump!—and she went limp, out cold from the shocks.