James looked up at the branches, his eyes narrowing.
"What's the play here? You worried I'm still hungry, so you're throwing in a side dish?"
He hadn't expected the Tool Cat to be so considerate. It was almost touching. James strolled forward and claimed the infant howler monkey without a hint of hesitation.
Up in the tree, the American Cheetah looked like it was on the verge of tears, but it didn't dare linger. The mob of enraged monkeys was already closing in. The cheetah scrambled down the far side of the trunk and bolted into the brush, vanishing without leaving so much as a shadow behind.
The canopy was still boiling with fury. The troop's goal was simple: scare off the predator and reclaim the bodies of their kin. Now that the cheetah was gone, their collective rage shifted entirely onto James.
They didn't descend, however. Fear of James's sheer mass kept them in the upper branches, where they screamed and hooted in a deafening chorus, trying to intimidate him into a retreat.
"ROAR—"
James fired back with a thunderous response of his own.
He had originally planned to take the spoils back to his new den, but the sheer arrogance of these primates changed his mind. To crush their spirit, he decided to eat right in front of them. If he was going to live here, he couldn't have the neighbors thinking he was soft.
A cautious cheetah might fear a mob, but James did not. If they wanted to play hero, he would kill them one by one until the forest went silent.
He ignored the frantic screeching and began his meal. He cracked open the mother's skull first, expertly scooping out the brain it was just a rich source of nutrients.
The sight sent the troop into a total meltdown. Several large males, unable to contain their aggression, dropped from the branches and began a slow, tense advance. The monkeys above redoubled their howling, cheering on their warriors.
Two males charged his front, screaming and baring their teeth in a display of suicidal bravado. Meanwhile, three others slunk through the shadows toward his flank, clearly hoping to snatch the infant's body while he was distracted.
"You're trying to use tactics on me?"
James didn't care for the theatrics. He saw only incoming Gene Points. He whipped his body around in a blur, his heavy paw whistling through the air at the nearest flanking monkey.
The male was mid-reach when James's strike connected flush with its chest. There was no time for a scream; the monkey was slammed into the dirt, its ribcage collapsing instantly into a flattened mess of fur and bone.
---
[DING! Host killed a Howler Monkey. Gene Points +10.]
---
Ten points. Better than nothing.
The sight of their comrade being turned into a rug broke the others instantly. The remaining warriors shrieked in terror, scrambling back up the trees with the frantic energy of drowning rats. James didn't waste the stamina to chase them; once they were out of reach, the forest finally fell into a peaceful silence.
After finishing his fill, James dragged the remains back to his new home. The mother monkey had been enough to sate his hunger, so he buried the infant and the dead male in the soft earth outside the burrow, planning to bring them back to Mom and Dad the next day.
This was his first night alone in the wild. Perhaps it was just the psychological shift of independence, but the mountain night felt far more predatory than usual.
"A-OOO... A-OOO..."
The shadows belonged to the Dire Wolves. Their mournful, rhythmic howling echoed through the ridges as they began their nocturnal hunt.
James, who had just closed his eyes, snapped awake.
The rest of the forest reacted in kind. The sounds of startled birds and scurrying prey filled the air. First a monkey concert in the evening, and now a wolf choir at night. James hauled himself up, his patience wearing thin.
Then, his nostrils flared. A rank, musky scent drifted into the burrow. Outside, he heard the faint, rhythmic scraping of paws against dirt.
"Unbelievable. First day in the new house and I'm already getting burgled."
James exploded out of the hole, catching three Dire Wolves red-handed as they dug into his cache.
"A-OOO!"
The wolves reacted as if they'd been struck by lightning. They spun and bolted, but one of them already had the infant monkey's body clamped in its jaws. If James had been a few seconds slower, his gifts for the family would have been gone.
"ROAR!!"
James unleashed a burst of speed, his massive frame tearing through the undergrowth as he closed the gap.
"You've got a lot of nerve touching my kills."
He had played the bandit earlier, but he had done it in the open, and the victim had even provided a tip. These wolves were common thieves. Unforgivable.
Like hyenas, Dire Wolves had great endurance but lacked the explosive acceleration of a cat. James ran the thief down in seconds. At over 150kg, he possessed a two-to-one weight advantage over the wolves.
BAM!
As he drew level with the lead wolf, James swung a paw with the momentum of a falling boulder. The strike caught the wolf's hindquarters, the force shattering bone and sending the animal tumbling into the dirt in a spray of blood and fur.
"A-OOO! A-OOO!"
Instead of fleeing, the other two stopped. They bared their teeth and growled, a display of pack solidarity.
"Loyal, aren't you? Fine. You can all stay."
James didn't hesitate. He ignored the crippled wolf and launched himself at the second one.
His bulk slammed into the wolf's midsection, the impact shaking the ground. Dirt and grass flew as the collision sent the wolf rolling. Several ribs snapped under the pressure, and its spine buckled. Blood erupted from the wolf's mouth and nose—a visceral display of internal devastation.