When your luck went bad, it really went bad. Eight lifetimes' worth of fucking bad luck!
Shen Yangge bent down to pick up the torn-off half of his trouser leg. The moment he leaned closer,
his gaze met a pair of gleaming eyes.
And then they entered a staring contest.
The worst part was that the thing's eyes glowed green.
Shen Yangge swallowed. Even someone as clueless about the wilderness as he was knew what was staring back at him.
He tried to communicate with it.
Bro, how about picking another target? See that guy standing by the river up ahead? Lots of meat, delicious, absolutely mouthwatering. The kind you'd give five stars with your own paw!
Why the hell is there one of these things here?!
Screaming frantically inside, Shen Yangge remained bent over, utterly motionless.
The thing didn't move either. It still held half his trouser leg in its mouth.
Saliva dripped down the fabric onto the grass.
Those glowing green eyes made Shen Yangge afraid to so much as breathe.
If a wolf bit him to death, that would count as an accidental death. And without a pain-off button, how much would that hurt?
No. He refused to die like that.
Even System 615's mechanical voice sounded a little distorted:
[Host, the system recommends running immediately. Preferably toward the male lead!]
Shen Yangge wanted to, too. But if he could run, he wouldn't be locked in a staring contest with this thing.
"Get down!"
Perhaps his body reacted too strongly to that voice. Before Shen Yangge's brain could act on those two words, his entire body had already dropped to one side.
And he did it all in one fluid motion.
A longsword whistled through the air and violently pierced the green-eyed thing. Blood splattered