"Roar!" A tiger's thunderous cry echoed through the forest.
In the face of overwhelming power, the sika deer didn't stand a chance. In an instant, it was knocked down by the tiger and pinned to the ground. The tiger's gaping maw clamped down on the deer's neck, ripping off a large chunk of flesh. Blood gushed forth.
Adam stood less than ten meters away from the scene. A few drops of blood sprayed onto the corner of his eye. Fear surged through his body, his blood ran cold, and he froze on the spot, completely paralyzed.
The tiger, having finished off its prey, raised its head. Its massive amber eyes locked directly onto the unfamiliar human before it.
Driven by the instinct to protect its kill—and judging by size, this smaller creature seemed easy to bully—it lunged at Adam without hesitation.
This tiger was over three meters long. Standing upright, it towered over Adam. The moment it charged, it was like a mouse staring down an elephant.
The distance was too short. In just one second, the tiger had reached Adam. With a swipe of its paw, packed with terrifying force and speed, it was ready to strike him down. If that claw landed, Adam's frail frame would be shattered, if not outright killed.
"I told you, I'm right behind you. Don't be afraid."
A calm voice rang in his ears.
Clara yanked the petrified boy back and, in the same motion, delivered a heavy punch to the tiger's jaw!
She was no longer the weak and malnourished woman from last year. After a year of proper rest and nourishment, Clara's combat strength had soared. In the post-apocalyptic world, she'd taken down mutated beasts and plants—how could a regular striped tiger be a threat now?
That punch of hers sent the tiger sprawling to the ground, rolling over several times before it scrambled back up, its eyes filled with a strangely human-like astonishment.
It clearly couldn't comprehend how a human—smaller and weaker than itself—could knock it down with a single blow.
Tigers were kings of the forest, unmatched by most animals. With its pride wounded and thinking Clara was trying to steal its kill, the tiger let out a furious roar and launched a vicious counterattack.
It charged forward with a two-step leap, swinging its massive paw to test Clara's strength. Its speed was astonishing, and its swipes frequent—but Clara dodged them all effortlessly.
Then, she drew the large knife strapped to her waist. In one smooth motion, she slashed down, carving a deep gash into the tiger's paw, the bone visible beneath the flesh.
The tiger howled in pain and fury, its roars growing louder and louder, to the point where Clara's ears throbbed from the sound.
"You're noisy as hell!" she cursed. She had hesitated about whether to finish it off—but now? She slung the blade over her shoulder and charged in without hesitation.
As for leaving this beast for her dear son to practice on—there were plenty more wild beasts in the mountains. No rush.
Tigers earned their fearsome reputation from their brute strength. One swipe could crush a human skull.
But Clara's strength surpassed even that. Armed and agile, she had a clear advantage. In less than three exchanges, the tiger sensed the terrifying power behind her strikes. Pride gone, it turned tail and fled without a second thought.
Better to lose a deer than lose your life.
Clara gave chase immediately, a wild grin on her face. "Trying to run? Too late!"
Last year, she had scoured the mountains hoping to find a tiger and never did. And now one had delivered itself right to her. How could she possibly let it go?
In Adam's stunned gaze, he saw his stepmother sprinting alongside the tiger, blade in hand, and in one fluid motion—she swung.
A "crack" resounded.
The tiger's head was cleanly severed from its powerful body.
With a heavy thud, the body collapsed. A pillar of blood sprayed from its neck, misting the forest in a crimson haze.
Clara exhaled and walked over, ignoring the tiger's head for now as she retrieved her knife.
"Tsk. Blade's chipped."
She shook off the blood and gore, then gave the tiger head a solid kick, flipping it over. The once fiery eyes had already gone dim.
Footsteps came up behind her—Adam had run over.
He stared at the lifeless tiger and muttered, "The pelt's ruined."
Clara saw that he wasn't traumatized and couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Her wild laughter echoed through the forest, sending birds and beasts scattering in every direction.
Adam looked up at the woman who had just slain a tiger and was now laughing with tears in her eyes. He couldn't help but grin too. His stepmother was the most incredible person he had ever seen!
Clara nudged the tiger's head toward him. "This is yours."
The pelt was too damaged to salvage, but the head could be kept as a memento.
The pungent smell of blood hit his nose, but Adam held his breath and carefully tucked the head into a burlap sack.
Looking at the tiger carcass and the deer, Clara rubbed her temples. "I was planning to keep you in the mountains for a few more days, but now we'll have to head down early."
Adam didn't mind. He said earnestly, "Auntie, I've already learned enough in these few days to keep practicing for a long time."
Once back, he would organize everything he'd learned and master it.
Clara glanced at him with interest. He wasn't greedy or impulsive, and he knew his limits. Steady and disciplined—not bad at all.
The two began crafting a makeshift drag sled from tree branches. As Adam worked, he kept stealing glances at the tiger and deer. The fear had faded; in its place was the image of the tiger's attack—each movement etched into his mind.
As for the moment Clara swung her blade and severed the beast's head, he would remember that for life. But he wasn't so naïve as to think he could do the same anytime soon.
Instead, he reflected on how he had been so focused on the deer that he failed to check his surroundings—and nearly died because of it.
As they dragged their spoils through the woods, Adam hesitantly asked Clara if she was angry at him for not listening.
Clara gave a small smile. "Would you even have had the chance to disobey if I hadn't allowed it? I knew you wouldn't listen. Young people rarely do. But sometimes, only experience can teach you."
Adam flushed and gave a sheepish "oh."
He looked up at her. Night had fallen, and only a sliver of moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a blurry silhouette of the woman beside him.
"Auntie," he said, full of admiration, "I want to be like you when I grow up."
Clara brushed aside some branches and reminded him to watch his step. "What kind of person is that?"
"Calm, composed, unafraid of any difficulty—someone who always finds a way to survive."
Clara shook her head. "No one is unbeatable forever. I have a cheat code."
"A cheat code?" Adam scratched his head, puzzled.
A bug landed on his neck, and he casually brushed it off through his sleeve—no more panicking over bugs or snakes. He was already used to jungle life.
"My cheat code is innate strength."
Suddenly, Clara stopped walking. Adam instinctively halted too and followed her gaze.
In the pitch-black forest ahead, a flicker of orange firelight appeared.
Faint voices could be heard.
Mother and son exchanged a delighted look and shouted together toward the light:
"Heeey—!"
(End of chapter)
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