Chapter 3

In an instant, Zhi Hao twisted his body, dodging the incoming attack. As his opponent’s sword slashed toward his head, he swiftly rolled to the side, narrowly escaping the fatal strike. Panting heavily, he quickly got to his feet and ran through the dense forest. However, in his haste, his foot caught on an exposed tree root, as if the forest itself had set a trap for him. Zhi Hao fell hard, and the mocking laughter of his pursuers echoed around him. "Hahaha, are you catching crickets or something?" one of them jeered with a sneer. Anger burned within Zhi Hao’s chest. With a voice choked by fury, he shot back, "Crickets, my ass! Damn you!" His heart boiled with shame and rage. In the midst of his frustration, a new figure suddenly appeared beside him. The man wielded a gleaming sword, ready to strike. Reacting instinctively, Zhi Hao unsheathed the sword at his waist, his sharp eyes locking onto this unexpected opponent. Clang! A powerful clash sent Zhi Hao’s sword flying. Clearly, relying solely on his physical strength without energy was not enough to counter his enemy’s strike. Zhi Hao panted, his eyes fixed on the two figures standing arrogantly before him. His weapon, now out of reach, left him defenseless, sending a chill down his spine. The two men, reveling in their advantage, exchanged glances as if plotting a cruel game. “You can’t run anymore, can you?” "Of course not! Look at his legs shaking," one of them scoffed, pointing at Zhi Hao’s slightly trembling legs. "Who wouldn’t tremble before death? Hahaha. So, which one of us gets to finish him off?" the other asked, laughing loudly as if this were some sort of party rather than an impending murder. They chuckled among themselves, feeling completely in control of Zhi Hao’s fate. "How about we play rock-paper-scissors first?" one of them suggested, treating the situation like a child’s game rather than a deadly confrontation. Zhi Hao swallowed hard, desperately searching for an opportunity—even as a part of him believed this was the end. Beneath his fear, however, anger simmered, refusing to let him die at their hands. Wei quickly formed a fist, signaling ‘rock,’ while his companion, with a sour expression, revealed ‘paper.’ Wei burst into laughter, his joy echoing through the trees. "Rock, paper, scissors!" he exclaimed again, fueling their competitive spirit. "Let’s go again. You cheated!" his friend accused, eyes narrowing suspiciously, lips pursed in dissatisfaction. Wei furrowed his brows, annoyed. "A loss is a loss, just admit it. What’s so hard about that?" he scoffed, crossing his arms with a piercing gaze. "Come on, I wasn’t ready," his friend countered, trying to keep his tone calm, though his body remained tense, prepared for another round. Meanwhile, Zhi Hao carefully observed the two fools bickering. The corner of his lips curled slightly—an opportunity had presented itself. This was his chance to exploit their distraction for his own survival. His eyes locked onto the sword lying not far from them—the sword that carried the memories of his mother. With nearly silent movements, Zhi Hao crawled toward the weapon, taking each step cautiously to avoid rustling any leaves or stepping on stray twigs. Finally, his fingers brushed against the sword’s hilt, and he gripped it tightly. Bang! Suddenly, a kick from behind sent him sprawling to the ground, his sword slipping from his grasp. Wei, having noticed Zhi Hao’s subtle movements, stood with heavy breaths, his gaze blazing as he loomed over the fallen boy. "Did you really think you could take advantage of our argument, you worthless piece of trash?" Wei sneered, his voice dripping with menace. Zhi Hao had no words left to say. The forest was dark and dense, illuminated only by slivers of sunlight filtering through the canopy. Their laughter echoed through the trees, breaking the tense silence. Suddenly, two large wolves emerged from the undergrowth, their red eyes glowing menacingly, their dark fur absorbing what little light remained. Both men stiffened but quickly prepared themselves. "Wei, keep an eye on the boy. I’ll deal with these two wolves first!" one of them commanded, his voice firm and unwavering. Without waiting for a response, he leaped forward, sword raised. The wolves growled, their sharp fangs glistening, ready to strike. But with swift and precise movements, he swung his blade. Slash! The sound of steel slicing through flesh filled the air, cutting the first wolf’s cry short. Slash! His second strike was just as quick, slashing through the second wolf that attempted to attack from the side. Both wolves collapsed to the ground, their blood staining the dry leaves beneath them. "Wei, where’s the boy?" Dong’s voice echoed through the withering trees. Wei, still in shock, snapped out of his daze. His eyes widened, and his lips quivered. "I—I don’t know, damn it! Where did he go?" Wei shouted, his voice high with panic and fear. "What do you mean you don’t know?! I told you to watch him!" Dong roared, frustration boiling over at Wei’s carelessness. Wei lowered his head, consumed by guilt. "There’s no point arguing now. We need to find him. I know I messed up!" he admitted, his voice steadier but still shaken. Without wasting another moment, they sprinted off, determined to track down Zhi Hao before it was too late. Dong moved swiftly with large strides, while Wei followed behind, burdened by his mistake. --- Zhi Hao’s eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching as he realized he was in an unfamiliar place. A mixture of awe and confusion swirled within him. "What happened?" he wondered, piecing together the recent events. Just moments ago, he had only shifted slightly in his sitting position—yet now, he was somewhere completely different. Amid his disorientation, the eerie silence of the forest was suddenly shattered by a deep, menacing growl. Zhi Hao stood frozen, his eyes widening in terror as he spotted a massive black tiger emerging from the dense foliage. Its sleek, midnight-black fur gleamed faintly under the dim light that managed to pierce through the leaves. The beast let out a guttural growl, its mere presence sending a chill down Zhi Hao’s spine. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, cold sweat trickling down his back. "There has to be a way out of this," he thought, frantically scanning his surroundings for a branch or stone he could use as a weapon. His gaze never wavered from the tiger, which was now steadily advancing toward him, its predatory eyes locked onto its prey. "This situation is no different from before. Escaping from a crocodile only to land in a tiger’s jaws. Am I really so special that misfortune keeps chasing me?" Zhi Hao murmured to himself, caught in a storm of internal turmoil.