Something Was Amiss

For a moment, the lynx felt a heavy, supple body coil around it, locking it down so tightly that it had no chance to fight back.

Then warm liquid began pouring into its body from its neck, spreading through it.

At that moment, alarm bells rang in its mind. Instinct told it that it was going to die. It was going to die!

Death—how terrifying it was.

As death drew near, it struggled desperately. Yet its normally nimble, obedient body seemed to have stopped listening to it, remaining perfectly still.

And the constriction only grew tighter. It felt as if it could no longer breathe.

Its heart seized with pain. Its whole body throbbed. Its breathing grew labored, and at last its head grew heavier and heavier.

A powerful wave of drowsiness crashed over it. It wanted so badly to sleep...

At last, its eyes closed.

Outside, Bai Chuan could feel the lynx slowly stop struggling as he squeezed harder and time passed.

Its limbs twitched, and a trickle of blood began to seep from the corner of its mouth.

At last, the lynx drew its final breath beneath his constriction and venom.

Only then did Bai Chuan release his coils. To his astonishment, the lynx's body had already begun to twist out of shape.

Even Bai Chuan couldn't help clicking his tongue at the sight. He hadn't expected his first attempt at constricting prey to have bent its bones out of shape.

That strength was downright terrifying.

In his previous life, Bai Chuan had once come across the saying: felines were the most powerful and successful predators to evolve on his planet.

This lynx wasn't a tiger, but it was no weakling either. It was at least a well-known member of the feline family, nothing like those nameless nobodies.

In other words, its bones and muscles were impressively strong.

And now, he had killed one with ease.

It was proof that he was growing stronger.

After marveling at his current strength, Bai Chuan extended his two sharp claws and began tearing off great chunks of flesh.

He ate with gusto, the bloody smell spreading wildly on the cold wind.

As he ate, Bai Chuan suddenly realized that something seemed to be missing.

Right! Teeth.

When he wolfed down meat now, it was always like swallowing it whole. He didn't bite or chew, only gulped it down. It wasn't quite satisfying.

He'd decided: if he got the chance during his next evolution, he'd give himself a pair of incredibly sharp teeth.

Then, even if he didn't have time to pierce his prey's flesh with his fangs and inject venom, all he'd need to do was bite a wound into it. A little of the venom that naturally seeped from his fangs could coat the wound.

That would still have a considerable effect.

Thinking this over, Bai Chuan picked up his eating pace.

By the time he'd eaten his fill, most of the lynx's hind legs remained, along with most of its warm internal organs, which he found difficult to stomach.

In theory, when eating—especially in winter—it was best to start with a prey animal's warm organs.

But he couldn't quite bring himself to do that. It wasn't that they tasted bad; it was the human mindset from his previous life getting in the way.

After all, organs and such were rather close to an animal's waste products, so he couldn't quite get them down.

Besides, as a snake, he didn't need to prioritize organs over flesh.

So he'd just let himself be a little fussy.

Of course, if he swallowed the whole animal, he wouldn't have minded much. As the saying went, what the eye didn't see, the heart didn't grieve over.

Seeing the organs made him feel queasy, but if he didn't see them, there was no problem. But ever since he'd taken to ripping apart flesh with his claws, he hadn't been as fond of swallowing prey whole.

That way of eating was a little too dangerous.

So it seemed animal organs and he were not meant to be.

After eating his fill, Bai Chuan slowly faded from view and left.

All that remained were the still-blowing cold wind, a huge hollow in the snow, and the crimson patch on the snow, along with the uneaten organs—proof that a snake-like creature had once been active here in winter.

Not long after Bai Chuan left, a huge, furry animal with a yellow coat, black stripes, and a white belly arrived.

It looked at the still-warm organs and twitched its nose, as if sniffing for something.

Then it came closer and began tearing into them.

In the days that followed, Bai Chuan returned to a relatively peaceful life.

And as he grew more and more accustomed to winter's temperatures, finding food became easier and easier.

Especially after he discovered moose, White-lipped Deer, Roe Deer, and other large prey on one occasion—his food supply suddenly became abundant.

With his increasingly large body, combined with Invisibility, constriction, and venom, he could kill prey without making a sound.

One thing worth mentioning was that, ever since the time he'd left animal organs uneaten, a little tagalong had been following him around.

That time, he and the creature had looked at each other from far away. When he saw that it didn't make any other move...

Since it hadn't done anything out of line so far, and he was somewhat wary of its strength, he temporarily ignored it.

He let it eat the fresh organs he left behind.

By now, Bai Chuan's body had finally reached 6.7 meters in length. He could be said to be approaching the world's second-largest python.

But as time passed, winter was slowly coming to an end.

The temperature began to rise. The snow on the ground had long since disappeared, and the ice in some places had even started to melt.

Everywhere he looked, the dark soil had begun to show the first hints of green.

All things were about to spring back to life.

That day, Bai Chuan crawled out of his cave and headed toward the stream, where a trickle of water had begun to flow.

Suddenly, he stopped, puzzled as he looked at the stream, whose current had inexplicably shrunk again. Slowly, he turned his gaze upstream.

For some reason, ice had formed there once more.

"What's this?"

Wasn't winter supposed to be over?

Only a few days ago, Bai Chuan had seen the ice melt with his own eyes, the last remaining chunks drifting along with the current before melting away.

Yet now, for some reason, the stream had frozen over again!

Strangest of all, he could sense an intensely powerful cold emanating from the frozen surface—almost as bitter as the coldest part of winter.

After all, winter was a natural phenomenon that inevitably came with the turning of the world. Snow, snowflakes, and cold winds all added to its chill.

It could be said that this was the boundless might of heaven and earth.

But now, the frozen surface of a tiny stream defied the natural order, giving off such intense cold.

What had happened?

As the saying went: when something unusual happened, there was bound to be a reason.

For such a chill to return during a season that had already warmed up was most likely not normal.

Bai Chuan's expression grew solemn. Could there be some undetectable mystery in the place where he'd stayed for so long?