Eaten Ch.195

Chapter 195: Mao Dong

Although the temperature had clearly dropped, the sun’s intensity hadn’t weakened in the slightest. Any exposed skin was even starting to sting from the heat.

After climbing a bit further, the voices within the group grew quieter, but the sound of heavy breathing became more and more pronounced. They were practically like a herd of animals migrating under the blazing sun—except migrating animals either had wings or four legs, and didn’t have to carry loads. At a time like this, humanity’s greatest advantages seemed useless.

Up ahead, a thin figure suddenly swayed twice before collapsing flat onto their back. Xue Shen reacted quickly and caught the person, while Yang Ao hurriedly said, “My legs suddenly gave out, and I feel dizzy.”

“Drink some water,” Xue Shen said. Then he stood where he was, waiting for Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi, who had fallen behind, to catch up.

The two lagging behind the group—one had stuffed a ring of fiery red fallen leaves into the brim of his sun hat, making it look like he was wearing a rooster’s comb, while the other wore a grass ring. As two of the people least affected by the magnetic field, their ability to annoy others was unmatched.

Leaning on a wooden stick he had carved halfway up the mountain, Xue Shen rested both hands on it and looked at them coldly as they approached. “Don’t you think something’s off?”

“A bit cold,” Wu Heng said, lifting the brim of his hat and pointing at his clothes. “I’ve already added a thin down jacket under my outer layer. Want one?”

“…Yang Ao says he’s dizzy,” Xue Shen replied—he wasn’t at the point of needing a down jacket yet.

“The altitude’s increased, so the oxygen content in the air has decreased as well. Mild dizziness is normal,” Xie Chongyi said. He was also leaning on a stick—straight and emerald green, still wrapped with serrated leaves, much more pleasing to the eye than the crooked, dirt-brown one in Xue Shen’s hand.

After finishing, Xie Chongyi lifted his eyelids slightly, parted his thin lips, and delivered a sharp jab, “The class rep doesn’t even know that?”

Xue Shen choked on his words, curled his lips in disdain, and turned to leave.

After Xue Shen left, the two of them continued climbing. Wu Heng asked, “The oxygen is indeed thinner than where we started, but we haven’t been climbing that long. Have we even gained 500 meters in elevation? That height shouldn’t be enough to cause altitude sickness.”

“Don’t use pre-apocalypse standards to judge post-apocalypse phenomena. Besides, everyone’s physical condition is different. Yang Ao’s fitness has always been worse than the others in the team.”

“Then what about his sister?”

“Maybe because she’s carrying a child in her arms?” Xie Chongyi wasn’t quite sure either.

“Oh.” If even Xie Chongyi didn’t understand, then neither did he. After all, when their mother traveled, she never carried them. Even if she did carry them while moving, once they became a burden, they would be abandoned.

Up ahead, it wasn’t just Yang Ao who was in bad shape—Ying Liuquan’s lips had already started to turn faintly purple. He leaned on a stick with one hand, while the other groped blindly in front of him.

“I really… can’t go on,” he said weakly. “Can anyone help me?”

Lin Mengzhi turned back in disbelief. “Teacher Ying, don’t be ridiculous. We’re all about to die just like you, okay?”

Ying Liuquan felt like his lungs were about to explode. Clutching his chest, he said, “But I’m a bit more useless than you. I’m a useless teacher.”

“Don’t waste your energy.” Ao She rolled up his sleeves and strode down from the front. With his strong arms, he scooped up the scrawny Ying Liuquan and hoisted him onto his back.

It seemed that those who knew how to show weakness had their own kind of luck. Ao She, the physically strongest in the group, was quickly “claimed” by Ying Liuquan. Meanwhile, the Yang siblings, who were in a similar condition, felt too embarrassed to ask for help like Ying Liuquan did—even though they were dizzy and every breath brought sharp pain to their hearts and lungs. In their eyes, Ying Liuquan wasn’t weak at all; on the contrary, he was strong—at least among so many people, he was the first who dared to ask to be carried.

As the journey stretched on, the slope gradually became gentler, and the ground grew thick with fallen leaves—so thick that each step made their shoes sink into them. The towering trees, having shed most of their leaves, stood with bare branches, leaving the blazing sun to shine down on them without any obstruction.

Lin Mengzhi draped his jacket over his head, panting like an ox. Beside him was Zhou Yi, who was still holding a fish tank. The lucky fish, Qiu Li, didn’t have to move a single step—but they were different. They really might die in these mountains.

In the middle-front section of the group, Shen Ruyi tugged at Shen Ping’an’s sleeve, begging him for something to eat.

Shen Ping’an remained completely unmoved.

“In this situation, if I don’t eat for three days, I’ll die.”

“I’m only forbidding you from eating the team’s food. Tree bark, grass roots, or hunting on your own—I won’t interfere with that.”

“I don’t have any powers. How am I supposed to hunt?” Shen Ruyi felt a sharp pain in his chest. If he had known, he would’ve stayed in Hanzhou. With his abilities, he could’ve lived well anywhere.

If he hadn’t been momentarily bewitched by Wu Heng’s looks, he wouldn’t be suffering like this in the middle of these deep mountains. Now he had nothing left—even his brother’s heart was siding with outsiders. He might as well—

Before the words “might as well die” could even form in his mind, a flash of bright yellow shot out like lightning from behind a nearby tree. Its massive body combined with incredible speed made it impossible for anyone to clearly see what it was at first.

Shen Ruyi screamed and fainted on the spot.

Shukui had already leapt forward to meet it. Two gigantic beasts, each the size of trucks, immediately began tearing into each other right in front of everyone.

Only then did the humans realize—the creature that had suddenly appeared was a big cat.

A tiger.

They practically had to tilt their heads back to watch the battle.

Thick tree trunks were knocked down one after another, and the few remaining leaves on the branches were shaken loose, scattering everywhere. The low growls and sounds of tearing flesh from both the dog and the tiger made the onlookers’ scalps tingle with fear.

“Oooh, oooh, oooh!” Xue Qi had been squatting with his chin in his hand, staring at the tiger the whole time. After watching it for a long while, he suddenly stood up. “Mao Dong!”

The tiger had originally been in the upper hand—after all, it was the king of beasts—but the familiar name made it freeze for half a second.

At that very moment, Shukui opened its jaws and bit down on its throat, pinning it to the ground.

“No, no, don’t kill it!” Xue Shen didn’t even have time to grab Xue Qi before he bolted forward. In front of the two mutated beasts, he looked as small as a pinky finger.

“Mao Dong was a tiger cub delivered by the Northern Tiger Rescue Center. Later, it was released into the northernmost forest within our borders. At first, everything was normal—Mao Dong even took over that territory. But then another male tiger showed up, and Mao Dong was driven away. After that, it disappeared from that forest—and from our country entirely.”

“So what now? Let it go?” Lin Mengzhi had never seen such a massive tiger up close before. Even normal-sized tigers, he had only seen in zoos—and those were either skinny as sticks or fat like pigs. This Mao Dong, on the other hand, was incredibly robust, radiating the domineering aura of a true king of the forest. “Damn, if we let it go, won’t it just turn around and attack us again?”

“Mao Dong was raised by humans. It shouldn’t have forgotten humans. Didn’t it recognize its own name just now?” Xue Qi had always loved small animals—let alone one he had practically raised online from afar.

Pinned beneath Shukui, Mao Dong lay on the ground. Shukui’s sharp teeth hovered, ready to pierce its throat at any moment. The tiger’s jaws were slightly open, its fierce gaze fixed on the dog above it. What was this nonsense? It was the king of the forest.

“Mao Dong? Mao Dong, Mao Dong.” Another voice came from the side. Fine, the voice wasn’t familiar—but the name was. Its ears twitched. It closed its mouth, though a faint growl still rumbled in its throat.

Xue Qi showed no fear at all. He reached out and placed a hand on the tiger’s head. “Mao Dong… do you still remember Keeper Xiao Chun?”

Mao Dong flicked its tail. It didn’t remember that woman at all—the one who had abandoned it.

The tiger suddenly became furious. It thrashed its neck violently, not caring that blood was gushing from the wound where it had been pierced, and broke free from Shukui’s hold.

Xue Qi was yanked back to safety by Wu Heng using a vine.

But after breaking free, the tiger didn’t continue fighting Shukui. Instead, it turned and ran.

Standing beside Wu Heng, Xue Qi looked a little dejected. “Mao Dong got angry.”

“For some individuals, whether a release is scientifically justified or not, it still feels like abandonment,” Xie Chongyi said. Having gone through something similar, he could understand—but that wasn’t the main point right now.

The key point was this: if the gradually changing vegetation hadn’t been enough to support his earlier speculation, then adding Mao Dong into the equation made it more than sufficient. It wasn’t just climate change causing the vegetation shift—what had once been the desertified north might now very well be right beneath their feet.

“That was the cat I raised online,” Xue Qi said, still a bit down. He had even gone to the rescue center to visit it before.

“That’s a cat?!” Lin Mengzhi’s jaw dropped.

“It’s a feline, after all.”

“Rest in place for ten minutes.” Xie Chongyi took off the grass ring from his head. “Teacher Ying, come here.”

Teacher Ying weakly jumped down from Ao She’s back. Still worried, he added, “Thanks, I’ll need to come back later.”

“….”

Ying Liuquan stepped carefully over the thick layer of fallen leaves and dry branches, making his way toward the two of them. One of them sat cross-legged on the ground, while the other leaned lazily against a tree. The one leaning against the tree was the one he feared the most—no matter how pleasantly he smiled, there was still something dangerous and unfathomable about him. Back at school, Ying Liuquan had never really dared to call on him to answer questions.

The one sitting on the ground was Wu Heng. Compared to the other, Wu Heng was much kinder. And right now, as long as there was food, everything was negotiable—so he was busy eating snacks and wasn’t paying any attention to the teacher at all.

Xie Chongyi shared his speculation with Ying Liuquan. The moment it touched on something within his field of expertise, all of Ying Liuquan’s fear vanished, and he shouted, “How is that even possible?!”

“Why wouldn’t it be possible?”

Ying Liuquan froze. His face was covered in sweat, his glasses kept slipping down, and he hurriedly pushed them back up several times. He kept muttering, “How is that possible…,” but he didn’t question Xie Chongyi again—he was simply in disbelief.

“Then what would Deathlands even be? The south? But we’re already in the south… no, we’re in the north—no, no, we’re clearly in the south…” Ying Liuquan became incoherent.

Still mumbling, he climbed back onto Ao She’s back, and the group set off once more.

This time, as they moved, everyone could clearly feel the temperature dropping. The sun was still as fierce as ever, but there was almost no warmth left in it. The dry, cold air made their already oxygen-deprived bodies feel even worse.

Wu Heng took out a number of thick clothes from his storage space and had everyone change into them.

But this time, not long after they changed, the sun began to sink faster. The heat trapped in their clothes rapidly dissipated. Sweat that seeped out from their skin quickly turned cold, clinging to them like a thin layer of ice, and even their breath became visible in white puffs.

Wu Heng then brought out the wolfskin coats he had stored long ago. He and Xie Chongyi changed into them as well, and at the same time collected a good portion of the group’s supplies and equipment.

Seeing the hesitation and worry in Ao She’s eyes, Wu Heng generously took in the ducks and cattle Ao She had been concerned about, storing them away as well. Ao She was deeply grateful.

After everyone changed into proper clothing and anti-slip boots, Wu Heng took out a box of flashlights. As each person held one and tested the brightness settings, he silently produced a pile of staffs twisted from vines and handed them out.

“What are these?” Yang Yu asked, holding her child tightly. With the warmth of the wolfskin coats, both mother and daughter looked much better.

“My ability… can be used for self-defense,” Wu Heng said. He didn’t really have a strong sense of sacrifice or altruism, but these people had followed him here. Even if they hadn’t, they were originally on his “menu” anyway—no matter how you looked at it, he had a responsibility to protect them.

“It’s the same as the class monitor’s!” Xue Qi said in delight.

Xie Chongyi leisurely switched on his flashlight, illuminating the staff in his hand.

One end of his staff was planted into the layer of fallen leaves. From top to bottom, it was straight and slender, tapering from thick to thin. Not only was it wrapped in leaves, but in the sections not covered by leaves, there were black petals coiling around it. Compared to the smooth, bare sticks everyone else had, it didn’t even look like it was made by the same person.

After everyone had clearly seen the difference, the boy spoke casually, “Go on—tell me, how is it the same?”

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