That kid.
He's increasingly resembling Black from back in the day—ruthless and steady.
Just then...
A strange scream suddenly came from outside the door.
"My God."
The sound was shrill and piercing, completely distorted, and didn't sound like a normal man could make.
Then came a series of chaotic and frantic footsteps, the sound of someone falling in panic on the icy snow, then scrambling to their feet, the soles of their boots screeching against the ground.
Bang.
The oak door was flung open with a loud thud, hitting the wall.
The young man in the denim jacket stumbled in.
His hat was missing, his hair was a mess, and his face was deathly pale.
His lips were trembling, and his teeth were chattering.
"Raging..."
He pointed to the door, his fingers trembling violently, his words incoherent, his eyes filled with a primal fear.
"What bear? It scared you like this?"
The hunters at the table closest to the door were the same bearded man who had been provoking them earlier; he laughed disdainfully.
Even if a live bear wandered in, it wouldn't wet its pants. Jimmy, you're really getting more and more out of touch with reality.
No... it's not...
The young man was panting heavily, gripping the door frame tightly, his knuckles white from the strain, as if trying to draw strength from it to stand.
"A head... such a big head... blocking the door..."
"What utter nonsense."
The bearded man grew impatient.
"What exactly did Black do? Did he knock the kid's soul out? What a disgrace!"
Before he could finish speaking, two more people rushed in from outside the door.
Those were the other two movers who went out with us earlier.
Their performance was hardly better than the denim jacket.
One of them even collapsed to his knees on the floor, his hands bracing against the ash-covered surface, retching violently.
It was a physiological reaction caused by the extremely strong smell of blood and the terrifying aura left behind by the death of a top predator.
What exactly happened?
Finally, one of the veteran hunters couldn't sit still any longer.
A muscular man with a gray braid slammed his wine glass down on the table, splashing wine everywhere.
He stood up and strode towards the door.
"A bunch of country bumpkins. Get out of the way. Let me see what's scaring you like this."
He shoved aside the denim jacket blocking his way, strode out the door, and exuded a menacing aura.
The tavern fell silent again.
Everyone is waiting.
Waiting for the old hunter's reaction.
Old Joey was a seasoned hunter who had hunted dozens of brown bears; there wasn't a single thing in this town he hadn't seen.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
There was absolute silence outside the door.
There were no laughs, no voices, not even the sound of footsteps in the snow.
This eerie silence was even more unsettling than the screams from before.
"That's... Old Joey, isn't it?"
Someone swallowed hard and asked in a low voice.
Why hasn't he made a sound?
Before he could finish speaking...
A heavy, suction-like sound came from outside the door.
"Hiss!"
That was the sound of someone's lungs instinctively drawing in large amounts of cold air when they were in extreme shock.
Immediately afterwards.
The burly man called Old Joey walked back backwards.
He retreated very slowly and stiffly.
One step at a time.
His eyes were fixed on the doorway, his pupils dilated to the extreme.
His gray beard trembled, a sign of shock at the horrific hunt.
"Oh My God..."
Old Joey muttered to himself, his voice carrying an unbelievable sense of unreality.
"That's... that's the King of the Island..."
This sentence.
boom.
The entire tavern erupted in chaos.
King of the Island?
Everyone knows what this word means on Kodiak Island.
That was not just a bear, but a legend, a nightmare, the glory that countless hunters dreamed of, and a symbol of being at the top of the food chain on this island.
Brown bears weighing over 600 kilograms!
Only then are they qualified to be given the title of King of the Island!
"Impossible."
"Stop joking around. Old Joey, you've had too much to drink."
"The biggest one this year was the one from the day before yesterday, weighing 593 kilograms."
"That monster disappeared long ago. I don't believe it."
Although they verbally expressed their disbelief and hurled insults, their actions spoke volumes.
"Whoosh!"
The sound of tables and chairs being overturned filled the air.
Dozens of hunters rushed to the door, fearing that if they were even a second late, the legendary beast would vanish into thin air.
The once crowded tavern became completely empty in just half a minute.
All that remained was a mess, with overturned glasses spilling wine.
There were also four people sitting at the bar.
Black remained calmly holding his glass, not even raising an eyebrow, as if everything was within his expectations.
Aruk finally couldn't hold back any longer. He lay face down on the smooth bar counter, his shoulders shaking violently, letting out a strange "kukuku" laugh, laughing until tears streamed down his face.
"Awesome. That's fucking awesome! Hahaha!"
He slammed his fist on the table, his palms turning red from the impact.
"Did you guys see Old Joey's expression? Like he'd swallowed a dead rat. And that bearded guy who was just trying to get some laughs, he ran faster than a rabbit. Hahaha."
Su Wei did not laugh.
But a slight smile played on his lips as he turned around, leaning against the bar, his gaze fixed intently on the open door.
Outside the door, the once pitch-black night was now illuminated by the beams of countless flashlights, as bright as day.
The sounds of exclamations, gasps, and camera shutters mingled together, creating a noise level even louder than the busiest market.
"Look at those claws... My God, those claws are bigger than my face. If they were to hit someone..."
"That tooth... it's half broken. How vicious must that be?"