26: Chapter 26 Black Bear

The next morning, when Chen Mo sat up from his tent, a thin layer of mist was still drifting over the Deep Pool, and the roar of the waterfall had echoed throughout the valley all night long.

After eating a simple, high-calorie breakfast, he packed up his backpack.

He did not plan to move his campsite again for now—the side of the Deep Pool was currently the most ideal training ground.

But the exploration could not stop.

One of his purposes for coming to the Shennong Mountain Range was to verify whether Spiritual Qi had a gathering effect in famous mountains and great rivers; this goal had not yet been fully completed.

The searches over the past two days had covered the western and northern parts of the core area, and today he planned to head east to scour the remaining areas as well.

If there was no phenomenon of Spiritual Qi gathering in the entire core area, then he could draw a relatively definitive conclusion: the distribution of Spiritual Qi was uniform on a macro scale and was not affected by terrain, vegetation, or human activity.

He had one more goal—the Wildman. Since entering the mountains, he had been keeping an eye out for traces on the ground along the way.

The footprints of large primates were completely different from those of Black Bears or wild boars; they had a larger stride, and the shape of the feet was closer to that of humans.

If some kind of undiscovered humanoid creature really existed in the Shennong Mountain Range, given his search range and observation density over the past few days, he should have been able to find at least some traces.

But so far, he had not seen any footprints that resembled human feet.

Of course, not finding them did not mean they did not exist.

The core area of the Shennong Mountain Range covered more than three hundred square kilometers, and his search coverage over these few days had at most covered a small fraction; there were still vast areas he had not reached.

If the Wildman really existed and was scarce in number, it was entirely possible that they were hiding in some isolated deep valley that had never been set foot in by outsiders.

He temporarily put this thought aside, shouldered his pack, and walked along the rock wall toward the depths of the sea of forests to the east.

The primeval forest in the early morning was filled with thick mist. Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the canopy, scattered by the mist into beams of gray-gold light.

Chen Mo moved rapidly through the forest. He maintained a speed of about thirty kilometers per hour; this speed could ensure search efficiency while allowing his perception to cover every detail within a radius of several dozen meters.

After walking for about thirty minutes, he had crossed two low ridges and entered a dense forest he had never been to before.

The tree species in this forest were mainly fir and hemlock, with thick, straight trunks, and the canopy was so dense that it was almost opaque.

Just then, he heard a scream.

It was from a monkey.

The sound came from the east, passing through layers of trees, and by the time it reached his ears, it was somewhat distorted, but his judgment of the direction was correct.

The sound was short but sharp, carrying obvious pain and fear.

Following closely were a few weaker shrieks, which then stopped abruptly.

Chen Mo immediately changed direction and ran toward the source of the sound.

In less than a minute, he approached the location where the sound originated.

When passing through the last patch of dense low shrubs, he slowed his pace, suppressed the sound of his footsteps, and silently crept to the side.

Then he saw the scene in front of him.

A Black Bear was lying on a patch of flattened shrubs, its two thick front paws pinning down a golden monkey.

The golden monkey was no longer struggling; its black claws hung powerlessly at its sides, and its golden fur was stained with mud and blood.

The Black Bear lifted its mouth from the monkey's throat, drool mixed with blood dripping from the corners of its mouth, and a low, satisfied rumble emanated from its throat.

Chen Mo stood where he was, watching quietly. The golden monkey was beyond saving.

However, even if he had been in time, he would not have intervened—the Black Bear hunting monkeys was a Law of nature, and he had no reason to interfere. He was not a savior.

Just as he was preparing to turn and leave quietly, the Black Bear suddenly stopped tearing at its prey and lifted its head.

It twitched its nose vigorously in the air a few times, then turned its head, its pair of small, shiny black eyes locking directly onto Chen Mo's direction from a distance of several dozen meters.

The Black Bear's eyesight was not good, but its sense of smell was seven times that of a hound.

It smelled the scent on Chen Mo—an unfamiliar scent.

The Black Bear stood up on its hind legs.

Its hind legs were as thick as two tree stumps, and its front paws hung in front of its chest, each paw equipped with five hook-like long claws.

Its standing height exceeded two meters, and its massive body cast a shadow in the morning light.

It opened its mouth and let out a low roar at Chen Mo, the bloody maw still containing traces of blood and flesh from the golden monkey.

It was showing off. When facing an uncertain opponent, a Black Bear usually stands up first to confirm the opponent's size and threat level.

But today it was different—having just killed a prey and being interrupted while eating by an unfamiliar scent made it more irritable and less inclined to back down.

Chen Mo did not move.

He did not adopt a defensive posture, did not retreat, and did not even put down his backpack.

He just stood in place, watching the Black Bear roaring at him calmly.

He recalled a piece of advice he had looked up on the internet before entering the mountains—when encountering a Black Bear, do not run, do not look it in the eye, and back away slowly to show that you are not a threat.

But for Chen Mo, this bear posed no threat at all.

The Black Bear made the first move. It roared, dropped to all fours, and charged toward Chen Mo at an astonishing speed.

An adult Black Bear weighing nearly two hundred kilograms could reach a speed of over fifty kilometers per hour when sprinting at full force; the sense of oppression when such a massive creature charges at you cannot be described by any language.

The ground vibrated slightly under its feet, shrubs were knocked to both sides by its body, and the air was filled with a strong, pungent, gamey odor.

Chen Mo did not retreat but advanced instead.

He pushed off the ground with his hind legs, his body launching forward, moving very fast.

The distance between them was shortened to zero in the blink of an eye. The Black Bear's right front paw had just been raised, ready to swipe down.

But its movements were too slow in Chen Mo's eyes—so slow that he could see the subtle air currents stirred up by each claw as it sliced through the air.

His right foot stomped into the ground, causing the soil and decaying leaves to explode under the force.

Power rose from the soles of his feet, conducting along his calves, thighs, hips, waist, abdomen, chest, and back; the entire kinetic chain was like a steel bow twisted to its limit, instantly released through his right fist.

When the right fist was thrown, the air in front of the fist could not escape in time; after being compressed to the limit, it emitted a sharp, explosive sound.

The face of the fist collided with the Black Bear's chest.

The ten-centimeter-thick layer of bear skin and fat on the Black Bear's chest, which could withstand the tearing of a peer's sharp claws and the fierce thrusts of a wild boar's tusks, collapsed inward like wet cardboard in the face of Chen Mo's punch.

Immediately following was the sound of bones breaking—not one by one, but all at once.

Under the impact of the punch, the ribs were like an ice surface hit by a hammer; cracks radiated from the point of impact, and then the entire section shattered.

Bone fragments and shattered flesh burst out from the Black Bear's back, exploding into a cloud of scarlet blood mist, mixed with broken bone fragments and torn visceral tissues.

The Black Bear's spine arched backward in a shocking curve under the remaining force of the punch, almost tearing the fur on its back.

Its roar was extinguished in its throat. The fierce glint in its small, pitch-black eyes instantly dissipated, its pupils dilated, and its gaze turned into a hollow, blank stare.

The massive body swayed in place and then crashed to the ground on its side.

The impact of landing caused the ground to tremble slightly, kicking up a circle of dust and leaf litter.

Its limbs were still twitching instinctively, its claws weakly scratching a few shallow furrows in the soil. But it was already dead. From the punch to falling to the ground, it took less than a second.

Chen Mo retracted his fist and straightened up.

His knuckles were stained with a layer of Black Bear fur and blood; he wiped his hands on the leaves of nearby shrubs, looking down at the nearly two-hundred-kilogram behemoth on the ground.

Then he crouched down, took out his dagger and tools from his backpack, and began to process the Black Bear.

The Black Bear had a very strong body odor, and the pungent, gamey smell spread through the air, but he processed it methodically—first using the dagger to cut open the joints of the bear skin, then cutting it piece by piece according to the muscle texture.

The bear meat was coarse, and the fascia between the muscle fibers was as tough as rope.

He carved out the most tender loin portion and cut it into long strips, then broke off a few branches of suitable thickness from the nearby shrubbery to skewer the meat strips.

Then he found a section of a dead, fallen tree trunk nearby, used his fingers to forcefully break the trunk into several pieces, and stacked them into a simple campfire.

He took out a lighter and lit it.

As the flames rose, the scent of pine firewood filled the forest.

He placed the skewered bear meat over the fire, rotating it slowly; grease seeped from the surface of the meat, sizzling in the high heat, dropping onto the charcoal fire and bursting into little sparks.

He took out the barbecue seasoning he carried in his backpack side pocket—salt, cumin powder, chili powder—and sprinkled it evenly over the meat.

The spices were stimulated by the heat, and the fragrance exploded instantly, mixing with the unique wild scent of the bear meat to form an extremely primitive yet extremely tempting compound aroma.

After it was grilled, he waited a few seconds for the meat to cool down slightly, then took a bite.

The outermost charred crust cracked between his teeth, emitting a slight crunch.

The first thing that surged up was the savory flavor of the barbecue seasoning and the strong aroma of cumin, followed by the unique texture of the bear meat—the fibers were coarse and tough, extremely chewy, and with every bite, he could feel the meat fibers springing between his teeth.

Then came that indescribable wild taste; it was neither the gamey smell of mutton nor the fishy smell of pork, but rather more like a primitive breath of life from the deepest parts of the deep mountains and old forests.

"Really not bad," he couldn't help but praise.

After finishing the bear meat meal, he was only seventy percent full. He packed the two bear paws separately; bear paws were suitable for stewing soup. After going back, he could set up a pot by the Deep Pool and stew them slowly for half a day, which should be even better than the grilled meat.

After packing up his equipment, he glanced at the remaining bear carcass on the ground and the golden monkey next to it that had long since expired, then turned and continued walking forward.

These carcasses did not need him to deal with them—it wouldn't be long before the wild wolves, foxes, vultures, and countless microorganisms in the forest would decompose them completely, returning them to the soil and becoming a part of the forest. Nature had its own way of clearing the scene.

He continued to walk east, passing through large areas of primeval fir forests that had never been logged, and crossed several crystal-clear streams.

The wild animals encountered along the way were countless—herds of muntjac flashed through the shrubs, a few wild boars were rolling in the mud in the distance, and a musk deer stood on a rock, its ears pricked up vigilantly.

He stopped to observe each one for a moment, and after confirming there were no abnormal mutations, he continued to move forward.

The traces of the Wildman remained completely blank. Let alone the Wildman, he hadn't even found a single large footprint resembling a human foot.

A few dozen minutes later, he had passed through the eastern side of the core area and reached an area he had never been to before. The map showed that further ahead was the buffer zone of the core area.

He stopped to look around, sensing the concentration of Spiritual Qi in the air. This whole day of searching had not revealed any gathering of Spiritual Qi.

He turned around and headed back to the campsite at a faster pace.