Chapter 44: Am I Dreaming?
"!!!"
On the other side, Chen Fan lay motionless in the grass, not daring to make even the faintest sound. In the suffocating silence, every rustle of vegetation seemed amplified tenfold.
If even one of the horned antelope sensed they were surrounded, the entire herd would bolt without hesitation.
Everything now depended on his father’s group.
"Stay calm," Chen Guodong whispered, sweat glistening on his forehead as he ignored the droplets rolling down his temples. "We’ve only put them on alert. We need to retreat another few dozen meters before they turn hostile. Move slowly."
The group nodded, retreating with painstakingly light footsteps.
The herd watched their retreating figures for several minutes before resuming their grazing. Fresh, tender grass was scarce here, and they wouldn’t abandon it easily.
The sentry antelope kept its eyes locked on the humans.
"They’ve lowered their guard," Gao Yang murmured, his voice shaky as if he’d narrowly escaped death.
"Maintain this distance and keep circling," Chen Guodong said, exhaling in relief. They’d done their part—now it was up to Chen Fan.
Meanwhile, Chen Fan seized the moment. 300 meters... 280... 260... 240—now within range.
Closer. Just a little more.
Every meter gained meant extra seconds to act.
But the sentry antelope suddenly whipped its head around, staring directly at Chen Fan’s hiding spot.
!
Chen Fan froze, pressing himself into the earth.
Did it see me? Impossible. A sound? A scent?
His mind raced: Attack now? Or stay hidden?
He held his breath, watching through the grass. If the herd stirred, he’d strike immediately. Strike while the iron’s hot.
Chen Guodong’s group tensed.
"Was he spotted?" someone whispered hoarsely.
"Unlikely. The sentry would’ve alerted the others."
"Probably just suspicious."
"Keep distracting it," Chen Guodong ordered.
Seconds stretched like hours for Chen Fan until—
The sentry turned back, perhaps mistaking him for a fallen log. With Chen Guodong’s group edging closer again, its focus shifted.
Chen Fan exhaled silently and crept forward: 220 meters... 200... 180.
The sentry’s hooves scraped uneasily at the dirt, a soft whine escaping its throat. The grazing herd lifted their heads, confused.
Then—
A figure exploded from the grass like a loosed arrow, sprinting toward the herd while nocking his bow.
In two heartbeats, he closed another 10 meters.
The herd froze, bewildered—
Thwip!
An arrow sliced through the air, piercing the sentry’s neck before it could blink. The antelope collapsed, legs jerking spasmodically as blood pooled around its throat. The arrow shaft protruded from the earth meters beyond.
Chen Fan didn’t pause. A second arrow was already drawn, the bow only half-tensed for speed.
Thwip!
Another antelope fell.
Panic erupted. The herd bolted as one, kicking up clods of earth.
Chen Fan’s arms blurred—40+ physique and rapid-fire mastery let him loose four arrows in five seconds. The first two shots hadn’t even used full draw.
Thwip! Thwip!
Two stragglers tumbled mid-gallop, skidding through dirt.
In under two seconds, the herd had fled a hundred meters—faster than a cheetah’s sprint.
Chen Guodong’s group stood dumbstruck. Their initial cheers for two kills died as two more antelope fell.
Four. Four kills! Unprecedented in the settlement’s history.
But Chen Fan wasn’t done.
He sighted the farthest fleeing antelope, drew his bow to full tension—
A surge of heat flooded his veins. The world slowed.
Crack!
The arrow screamed across 300 meters, spearing the antelope’s flank. It crashed down, watching its herd vanish into specks on the horizon.
"Haah..." Chen Fan swayed, arms steady but body drained. Why this weakness?
The shot had felt different—energy channeled into his arms, time distorting. But the sensation slipped away like smoke.
No matter. He’d save his remaining stat point for emergencies.
Chen Guodong’s group arrived, gaping at five carcasses strewn across the field.
"Xiao Fan..." The bald man stared, disbelieving. "Five... five kills? Pinch me—am I dreaming?"
