Chapter Eighteen: Youth Like the Wind

The latest hand crossbow crafted by Zhao Hengyi had pushed the limits of existing resources to their utmost. It could drive a bolt into a tree trunk from more than fifty paces away. In terms of sheer power, it was already comparable to the ordinary pistols of his previous life. Yet, against a massive black bear standing nearly two meters at the shoulder, unless a vital spot was struck, the bolts' lethality was almost negligible—little more than an annoyance.

The one-eyed Black Gale was cunning to the extreme. Years ago, it had lost an eye to a hunter in the mountains; now, it bore a boundless hatred for humans, coupled with a craftiness unknown to other bears. As if aware that the weapons wielded by the shouting humans could not truly harm it, Black Gale dispensed with dodging altogether and charged straight toward the tree where Zhao Hengli, the man who had shattered its fangs, was hiding.

Wang Dahu, Wang Erhu, and Old Wu frantically reloaded and fired, bolt after bolt thudding into Black Gale's shaggy black-furred back. The wounds looked gruesome, but they were little more than superficial. If anything, they only made the bear more enraged; they did not even slow its climb up the tree.

Hearing the guttural roars so close at hand, watching Black Gale begin its ascent, Zhao Hengyi, in mortal peril, was struck by a strange realization.

The bear was laying a trap.

From the start, Black Gale could have easily scaled the tree where the three girls were hiding. Instead, it kept ramming and striking the trunk, drawing more people to the rescue of Ruo Chang, Ruo Yi, and Xiaohua.

A wild beast of the mountains, setting a trap for humans—was this creature becoming something more than animal?

The scene replayed in Zhao Hengyi’s mind. To his shock, he realized that even the four of them managing to climb their respective trees had been tacitly permitted by Black Gale. This king of the forest, with each year’s bloodshed, had learned how to kill more humans, more efficiently.

Watching Zhao Hengyi in his precarious plight, Wang Dahu and his companions were beside themselves with anxiety, their spirits sinking to the bottom.

Just as Old Wu had said before: the boss cannot die.

It was Zhao Hengyi who had forged the hand crossbows and formed the hunting team, bringing wealth beyond imagination to the people of Elm Bay. He had invented the new weaving loom, giving the women a livelihood and many families an extra income, letting the villagers glimpse a thing called hope. Even the yet-unfinished chicken farm, once complete, would continually improve the lives of everyone in Elm Bay.

The boss had promised that in the future, he would build a brick kiln, raise brick houses, and lead the people of Elm Bay to a life free from hunger and want.

All of it originated from Zhao Hengyi—the man everyone once considered a fool. If he died at Black Gale’s claws, that hope would likely vanish like smoke.

Wang Dahu and Old Wu, more perceptive than ordinary villagers, understood this keenly. That was why they followed Zhao Hengyi out of the village, heedless of their own lives.

Against a beast like Black Gale, the hand crossbows were still far too weak, and they had few bolts left. It seemed as if they had fallen into a trap with no way out.

Nimble as a cat, Wang Erhu leapt down from the tree, ignoring his brother’s shouts. He swiftly moved, seeking an angle to shoot at Black Gale’s vital points from the side.

But this enormous bear, the perpetrator of yearly carnage, seemed to have anticipated such moves. Though it climbed clumsily, its speed was undiminished, and it shielded its vulnerable spots with care, leaving only its tough, thick back and powerful limbs exposed to the shouting humans’ futile shots.

An experienced hunter, Old Wu quickly made his judgment.

Black Gale not only wanted to kill the boss but intended to slaughter everyone present.

An adult black bear could outrun any human; no one could escape Black Gale on foot. The bear had allowed everyone to climb the trees—this was its fishing line, and the three girls trapped above were its bait.

This monster, with its trail of carnage, did not intend to leave a single soul alive.

“Erhu, run down the slope!” Old Wu shouted, his voice ringing out. “If you run back, Black Gale will chase you!”

Since the bear, almost preternaturally clever, meant to kill everyone, it would not let even one prey escape. But the grim truth was that whoever tried to lure Black Gale away would likely pay with their life.

Sixteen-year-old Wang Erhu’s eyes flashed with a strange light. His quick wits and love of adventure made him act without hesitation—he shouted loudly as he ran toward the village.

The blood of youth surged within him. In this vast world, it seemed that only he, Black Gale, and Zhao Hengyi hidden in the tree remained.

He still had two bolts left. If he could lure Black Gale down from the trunk, he might not only save the boss for the moment, but also have a chance to blind the bear’s only remaining eye.

This boy, whom Zhao Hengyi secretly called a born killer, possessed a soul unlike any other.

Wang Erhu was a natural daredevil. The more dangerous his predicament, the more exhilarated he felt—a fact he’d never confided to anyone, not even his own brother.

To others, he was merely a restless mountain village youth, full of wildness, always looking for trouble, a genuine handful. Yet, in this moment of life and death, he chose a form of self-sacrifice.

He was like the wind—dangerous and untamed.

Wang Dahu, who had survived battlefields and once clawed his way out from a mound of corpses, was the calmest of them all. He immediately understood Old Wu’s plan.

Wang Dahu did not complain, for Old Wu himself had leapt down and was running in another direction, shouting—away from the village.

With his single arm, Wang Dahu slid down the trunk and fired his last bolt at Black Gale’s massive head.

Thunk!

It was as if he had struck armor. The bolt pierced the skin but did not penetrate the bear’s skull. It stuck askew in the back of Black Gale’s head, and with a casual shake, the beast dislodged it, as if mocking their efforts.

Wang Dahu threw aside his crossbow and, instead of retreating, charged toward the tree where Zhao Hengyi was hiding.

The boss could not die. If it cost him his wretched life, he would fight to win the boss a chance at survival.

The three men’s sudden, reckless moves gave Black Gale a moment’s hesitation. The force of Wang Dahu’s shot made the giant bear pause and roar, shaking its head.

Hiding in the fork of the tree, Zhao Hengyi, who had seemed paralyzed with terror, suddenly sharpened his gaze—it was time.