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Chapter 5: Entering the Savanna
"Fuck!" The white man looked in terror at the leopard, which had somehow escaped the cage without him noticing. His scalp tingled as he frantically raised his tranquilizer gun, but it was too late.
At a distance of ten meters, he might have had a chance to escape. Within five meters, even if the dart hit the leopard, he’d still be done for.
Now, however, they were less than a meter apart—a range at which no feline ever misses.
Speed is undefeatable.
A scream echoed, and the tranquilizer dart flew off who knows where. The white man was struck squarely in the face by a powerful leopard paw, spinning 720 degrees before collapsing behind the vehicle in a posture of absolute defeat. Blood streamed down his neck, forming a gruesome red mosaic on the ground.
Though Wang Ping was no stranger to wild animal attacks, seeing it so up close was a first for him. His scalp prickled at the savage brutality.
But then he remembered the leopard was currently on his side, and he felt a little reassured.
With this kind of power, they were bound to succeed!
Wang Ping swiftly jumped down from the truck, darting beneath it and towards the front, planning a diversionary tactic.
The bearded driver up front had heard the other man’s curse and scream, but the sound faded as quickly as it had erupted. Growing uneasy, the driver pulled out a handgun from his waistband and got out of the vehicle.
With his gun drawn, he cautiously made his way to the back, calling out the other man’s name as he went, but there was no response. Sensing something was wrong, he turned back toward the driver’s seat. That’s when he spotted the black-spotted, golden face of a leopard emerging from the back of the vehicle.
“Oh my god…” With a scream, the bearded man prepared to fire, but suddenly a searing pain shot through him. Something essential to his dignity and pride had left him forever, leaving him to kneel with a strangled cry, clutching his groin.
“Roar!” The leopard pounced.
...
The vehicle had stopped close to the savanna, near the edge of the East African Maasai Mara. It seemed the two men had purposely taken this little-traveled road, as the savanna was teeming with wildlife and resources were scarce. By avoiding main roads, they also bypassed most of the checkpoints.
Wang Ping regretted his impulsive decision to intervene. Did he really need to get involved? With the leopard’s agility, that driver wouldn’t have stood a chance.
He glanced down at his blood-stained claws, feeling a pang of regret. A few yellowish hairs were still stuck to his sharp claws, bent and twisted like they were mocking him.
“Grr…”
Still dazed beside the vehicle, Wang Ping was startled when a large, furry head nudged him from behind, causing him to stumble forward.
The leopard rubbed affectionately against Wang Ping, purring as it smeared its blood-stained face onto the white fur on his back.
Wang Ping was dumbfounded.
Now, not only did he need to clean his claws, but he would need a bath too.
"Tch," Wang Ping sighed inwardly. A moment ago, this ferocious creature had taken down two men, yet now it was acting like a playful kitten. Sure enough, all felines must be a bit crazy!
Though the leopard couldn’t fully understand the bizarre creature’s body language, it knew who had freed it from the cage. Perhaps for felines, this affectionate display was a way of saying thanks.
"Raaawr!" Wang Ping let out a yell, startling the leopard and making it leap back.
He’d momentarily forgotten he was now an animal. About to speak, he realized with embarrassment how absurd his voice sounded—even he himself couldn’t stand it. Silently, he vowed never to make any unnecessary sounds again.
After brushing off the fur the leopard had ruffled, Wang Ping headed for the driver’s seat. The leopard sat nearby, watching curiously as he walked on two legs, without a hint of the usual predator’s menace.
With both men now cold in the dirt, Wang Ping felt he could piece together their identity. Smuggling wild animals in the dead of night, armed with guns, taking deserted back roads—if these two were upstanding citizens, he’d eat his own tail.
Rummaging through the driver’s seat, he found two handgun magazines and a phone in the glove compartment. No ledger, no address, nothing useful. It wasn’t surprising; the real important documents wouldn’t be entrusted to the transport crew.
He grabbed the phone, intending to send a message to his team to investigate the zoo that might be behind this operation. But then he froze.
The phone was a brand-new iPhone, with a capacitive touchscreen. Wang Ping held it in one paw, looking down at his other paw with a sinking heart.
"Seriously? Out here with a touchscreen? Couldn’t they at least have a basic phone with buttons?”
With a swipe, he knocked the phone out of the truck and onto the ground, then stomped on it until the screen shattered into pieces. Well, there went his chance to investigate.
Glancing at the blood-soaked bodies, Wang Ping nodded with satisfaction. The leopard had only killed them without consuming them; the bodies were left intact.
There’s an unwritten rule in conservation that animals who have killed people should not be spared, as a taste for human flesh could make people part of their diet.
But for Wang Ping and those fighting to protect endangered species, an animal that doesn’t eat human flesh hasn’t crossed that line.
“You’re a good kid, sensible! I’ll call you Rosette from now on.” He moved his lips, but held back the words that were on the tip of his tongue, only silently saying them in his heart.
The truck had a stash of bottled water, so Wang Ping grabbed one, punctured it with a claw, and poured it over his back to wash off the blood, finishing with his paws. He looked over at Rosette, who still had blood smeared on her face, and grabbed another bottle. But the leopard simply drank the water happily, infuriating Wang Ping, who gave her a couple of quick swipes. Then he figured he’d let the leopard groom herself, as all cats do.
By now, the sun was rising, so Wang Ping glanced up to get his bearings.
The savanna suggested he might be near his target destination, though he couldn’t be sure. After all, Africa had no shortage of sprawling savannas.
He took a few steps northwest, then sighed, lowering his front paws to the ground and dropping onto all fours. There was no getting around it; his legs were just too short.
Following behind was Rosette, alert to every shift in the breeze and rustle in the grass. Together, the unlikely duo—a honey badger and a leopard—made their way toward the heart of the savanna.
...
Elsewhere, a jeep raced across the savanna at an alarmingly erratic pace.
The driver, Gu Lang, was a wilderness streamer.
Nowadays, if one randomly throws a stone on the street, they are likely to hit a live streamer. But it’s not an easy job. Without the appeal of an attractive body or a beautiful face, and being a guy with no particular skills in singing or dancing, Gu Lang didn’t have much of a following.
His best live streaming performance was having ten thousand viewers watching concurrently.
However, that was purely an accident. Originally, Gu Lang's streams focused on outdoor activities—running, playing sports, and occasionally hiking. But during a trip to Jiuzhaigou, a South China tiger unexpectedly appeared on the live stream.
It was a South China tiger!
The audience got their fill, witnessing a tiger outside of a zoo in its full, majestic form.
Hmm… it was stronger and more powerful than the ones in the zoo, taller and more imposing than those in the zoo, and even more "holy crap, holy crap" than those in the zoo.
This accidental encounter opened Gu Lang’s eyes to a surefire way to boost his following: genuine wilderness experiences. People wanted to see untamed landscapes and rare wildlife.
Thus began this African adventure.
For this live stream, Gu Lang specifically found a club and spent six months learning survival skills. He also bought a ton of equipment. If it weren't for his family's good financial situation and the fact that his parents didn't mind his antics, he really couldn't have afforded all these expenses.
Things had started well. With the allure of the East African Maasai Mara, and advance promotion, which he paid, on the streaming site, his viewer count broke ten thousand right away.
But now, Gu Lang couldn’t care less about his viewership. His face was contorted with fear, and he didn’t even glance at the comments flooding his screen. He was too busy, for there was a pride of lions chasing his speeding jeep.
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