Chuck approached slowly, soon reaching the spot where he had killed the leopard. He didn't rush in but took out the monocular, scanning the lake's surroundings carefully.
His frown deepened.
Like before, even scanning with the monocular, he couldn't spot the tiger.
He knew it wasn't his eyesight. Obstacles were likely blocking his view from this angle.
But locating the target was just step one of "Hit and Run." If he couldn't find the tiger due to line of sight...
His subsequent plans would have nowhere to start.
Chuck's expression grew anxious.
Valentina was waiting at the shallows behind the cave. If he didn't signal for too long, she might come out to check, disrupting the plan and making him look incompetent.
Not an outcome Chuck wanted.
After so much preparation, how could he be stopped at the first step?
Clenching his fist, Chuck put away the monocular and started running laterally along the plains' outskirts.
If it's an angle problem, change the angle. With the monocular and Perception Mastery, he refused to believe he couldn't find that big cat.
Running for over a minute, covering 500 meters, Chuck stopped and scanned again.
This time, he found something.
Behind a large rock previously hidden from view, in the shadows, a blurry black shape lay. From the occasional lazy flick of a long tail and the iconic black stripes, Chuck was almost certain. That was the big guy.
Found you!
Chuck exhaled, lowering the monocular.
The feline instinct for concealment made the tiger hide even without sensing danger. The shadow under the rock was perfect for napping and avoiding the sun.
Step one: Target located. Complete.
But Chuck didn't relax; his expression grew graver.
The rock blocked his view from his previous position, meaning it would also block his bolt.
To ambush it, he had to attack from here.
But he had just run 500 meters north. Now, he was further from the cave shallows escape route than from the tiger!
If the first shot didn't kill or cripple it...
To execute step three (retreat), Chuck had to outrun this giant beast!
Chuck's heart rate spiked.
Risk was too high.
Clearly, now wasn't a good time to strike.
But Jiang Qi's condition allowed no retreat or dawdling for a better opportunity. The tiger had to die today.
Chuck advanced slowly, closing the distance. Crouching, he used the monocular to adjust his position laterally, finally choosing the optimal shooting spot available.
About 420 meters from the target. Roughly the ballista's range plus the extra distance from the downward slope. Further than his training shots.
This was also the limit to ensure a clear shot past obstacles. But it was over 500 meters from Valentina's rendezvous point.
Two choices.
Shoot, store the ballista, drop prone, and gamble the tiger wouldn't spot him or would flee in fear. Or stick to the plan: Hit and Run. Race the King of the Jungle.
Considering the tiger's likely intelligence and predator senses, Chuck realized he had little choice.
"Seems I should have practiced sprinting instead of shooting..."
Chuck carefully deployed the ballista on the plain. A quick check confirmed the tiger was still napping in the shade. Relaxing slightly, he loaded a bolt and began cranking.
Thirty seconds later, loaded.
Relying on his practiced "feel," Chuck adjusted direction and angle swiftly. He checked the tiger one last time with the monocular.
Still in the shadow, tail wagging lazily.
"Acting cool? Like acting cool with me?"
Chuck gritted his teeth. Recalling the tiger's arrogant roar from the rock after he killed the leopard, the killing intent brewed for days peaked.
Taking a deep breath, he pressed the trigger.
The triple-bow ballista released its stored energy. The fletched bolt shot out with a dull thud, turning into a black meteor whistling with lethal intent toward the tiger 400 meters away!
The moment the bolt left, Chuck didn't dare dawdle. He stored the ballista instantly, not even waiting to see the impact. Bloodlust Control activated.
His calves swelled a full size. He pushed off explosively, sprinting full speed toward the cave shallows!
On May 24, 1986, in Santa Monica, Johnny Gray set the 600m world record at 1:12.81.
Chuck hadn't timed himself, but with his stats, breaking one minute should be easy. Maybe even 55 seconds.
But two seconds into his sprint, before reaching peak speed, an earth-shaking roar erupted from the rock.
The roar proved the hit. Though he didn't know where it hit, the sheer volume and power proved it wasn't fatal.
The consequence of "five hits, no headshots" showed itself. Expecting this, Chuck maximized his leg power, sprinting while glancing back at the rock.
One look sent chills down his spine.
The giant tiger charged with terrifying momentum, roaring. Behind it were two long tails.
One its own. The other, the bolt Chuck just shot into its ass.
The saying goes "you can't touch a tiger's butt," but Chuck gave it a harsh injection.
It sprinted, leaving blood trails. Chillingly, despite the bolt in its ass, its speed seemed unaffected. In fact...
It far exceeded Chuck's expectations!
Watching the four-legged beast close in at terrifying speed, Chuck calculated the time until impact.
Fifty seconds?
No...
Forty!
Clearly, the tiger was faster.
Shit.
That fatal speed difference shattered step three.
He couldn't reach the cave before the tiger caught him.
Even sprinting blindly now wouldn't change that fact.
Chuck cut power to his legs, decelerating to a stop in two seconds. Like prey accepting its fate, stopping to rest before the end.
Of course, only like. In those two seconds, Chuck deactivated Bloodlust on his legs, but his potion-enhanced brain spun at full speed.
If he couldn't reach the cave, the sea escape and Valentina's rendezvous were meaningless.
Turn and flee into the jungle? Futile. As Valentina said, running into the forest before the King was suicide.
Since retreat was impossible, only one choice remained.
Face the enemy head-on!
Chuck turned, facing the roaring tiger. The closer it got, the more he felt its massive size and terrifying aura—like a muscle tank crushing toward him mercilessly.
But he didn't flinch. Waving his hand, he retrieved the ballista from his inventory and began reloading at top speed.
His pocket vibrated untimely. In this critical moment, Chuck spent a second reaching into his pocket with his left hand, pressing a volume-power button combo.
The pre-arranged signal with Valentina.
Two phones.
Two pre-edited messages.
And two shortcut commands.
...
Simultaneously.
500 meters away, on the raft, Valentina's phone vibrated.
[Chuck]: Plan change!
"Damn it!"
Valentina's face tightened, gripping her javelin.
Seconds ago, she heard the tiger's roar. Too loud—meaning a hit but not fatal. She sent the "Prepare rendezvous" signal as agreed and stood up.
But the reply wasn't confirmation.
It was "Plan change."
Since too many variables existed for specific signals, they only used two literal messages.
This meant Valentina knew the plan changed, but not how.
But waiting here meant Chuck wouldn't come.
Realizing this, Valentina reacted swiftly. She abandoned the raft, jumped onto the reef, strode onto the beach, and sprinted toward the cave exit with her single javelin.
"Chuck... I won't let you die!"
...
Fifteen seconds.
The tiger was within a hundred meters. Its roar hit Chuck's eardrums directly; the cruelty in its golden eyes was unmistakable.
But Chuck finished reloading.
At this range, the monocular was useless. The charging tiger constantly changed position, making fixed adjustments meaningless.
He lifted the rear of the ballista off the ground, holding it steady. Finger on the trigger, he moved his feet, tracking the tiger.
Only this bolt and its power mattered now.
Twelve seconds.
Not enough time to reload again. This shot had to count.
Though he hadn't expected the tiger's speed or HP, Chuck realized one thing.
Even with intelligence, it was a tiger. An isolated island tiger.
It couldn't understand human tech or tools.
It only knew its ass was attacked, likely by the two-legged beast running on the plain. As for the wooden block in front of him? No tiger cousin had phoned to warn it about ballistae.
If close enough, Chuck could ensure a 100% hit. Maybe even a headshot!
Watching the strongest land predator close within dozens of meters, exuding fierce aura, Chuck felt surprisingly calm.
Five seconds.
Chuck adjusted one last time. His finger on the trigger pressed down hard!
This was the final arrow.
Succeed or die trying!