Chapter 17: Hush, That's an Armored Rhino
A gentle breeze rustled through the air, carrying the earthy scent of the wilderness. The landscape revealed a desolate plain covered in wild grass that reached mid-calf height, interspersed with shrubs and patches of colorful, unfamiliar berries. These vivid fruits stirred uneasy memories in Chen Fan's mind.
Beyond the grass, scattered trees and stumps dotted the area—evidence of logging near human settlements. In the distance, mountain silhouettes loomed faintly.
"That's the direction of Anshan City," the bald man remarked.
"Anshan City?" Chen Fan turned to him curiously.
"A small mountain city built like a fortress. Rumor says Awakeners guard it—a dream destination for many." The bald man's eyes glimmered with longing.
"Awakeners, huh?" Chen Fan nodded. Entry clearly wouldn't be easy.
"Right! Become an Awakener, and you can waltz in—bring your whole family too!" The bald man chuckled.
Chen Fan rolled his eyes. Though new to this world, he understood the basics: early awakening favored youth, and high mental attributes were non-negotiable. A glance at his own stats confirmed his realistic outlook.
The group pressed forward, vigilance tempering their initial cheer as fatigue set in. Suddenly, a hulking shadow emerged ahead.
Chen Guodong, leading the party, stiffened and signaled a halt.
"Is that... an armored rhino?" someone gasped.
Chen Fan stared. The creature rivaled a cargo truck in size.
"Circle around quietly," Chen Guodong whispered, addressing Chen Fan. "Their armored hides make them top-tier mid-level beasts. Never engage unless forced."
Chen Fan agreed, eyeing his bow. Piercing that armor seemed impossible, and a charge would spell disaster. They detoured widely, relief washing over them only when the rhino vanished from view.
"Same goes for all mid-level beasts," Chen Guodong added. "Even a victory costs too much."
"Understood."
Mid-level beasts required coordinated efforts to kill, inevitably risking lives. Hunting the rhino would demand a sacrificial defender—a shield-bearing volunteer facing near-certain death. Low-level beasts varied from harmless fleers to lethal fighters manageable by a single armed adult.
"Don't sweat it. You'll get used to this," the bald man said breezily. Others nodded, unfazed.
Chen Fan forced a smile, still rattled.
"Let's check the first trap," Chen Guodong declared, resuming the march with Chen Fan centrally protected.
Minutes later, Chen Guodong froze, pointing ahead. A plump hare gnawed grass seeds in the undergrowth, oblivious.
"That's a wasteland hare," the bald man murmured. "Poor eyesight beyond twenty meters, but sharp hearing detects movement forty meters out."
As if on cue, the hare stood alert.
"Damn, that's huge!" Chen Fan blurted. It dwarfed the stray dogs of his past life, its bulk more reminiscent of a well-fed hog.
"Pass me an arrow," the bald man whispered.
"You can shoot?" Chen Fan blinked.
"Nope! But why not try?" The bald man grinned. "Wait too long, and it'll bolt."
Chen Guodong glanced at Chen Fan, hope warring with restraint.
"Let me try," Chen Fan insisted.
The bald man shrugged assent.
Chen Fan gripped his bow, heart hammering. Success meant food for the village and precious潜能点 (potential points). Failure meant disappointment. His shaking arm drew sympathetic headshakes from the group.
Chen Guodong sighed. First-timer nerves were normal—practice would help.
Yet when Chen Fan nocked the arrow, his tremors ceased. Muscle memory took over: draw, aim, release—all fluid, as if honed through endless repetition.
The twang of the bowstring merged with the arrow's whistle. The hare leapt—but too late. The projectile speared its skull, pinning the carcass mid-jump. It thudded down, legs twitching briefly before stillness.
Chen Guodong's team stood frozen, mouths agape in speechless shock.
