Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C49

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Wang Ping was laughing so hard he nearly fell off the tree branch. He was trying his best to suppress the "howling" sounds escaping his throat, but it was no use. Up in the dense canopy, it sounded as though an owl with schizophrenia was hiding among the leaves, scaring away any birds that dared to fly past.

When the poachers and the swarm had disappeared far into the distance, Rosette finally approached the tree where Wang Ping still lay sprawled, gasping for breath. Looking up at the hysterical honey badger, the young leopard’s face was etched with a melancholy far beyond its years.

But letting off steam wasn’t enough.

Wang Ping had already made it clear: "If they don’t want to leave, then they shouldn’t." Promises are promises, whether he is human or a honey badger.

Still, revenge could wait. First, they needed to regroup with Gu Lang.

By now, that livestreamer had wandered so far off course that he was practically lost in the forest.

Gu Lang’s Plan A was to sneak close to the poachers and check if Wang Ping and Rosette had been captured. If not, Plan B was to return to the spot where he and Wang Ping had parted ways—to collect his friends’ remains.

As for what to do if Plan A revealed that Wang Ping and Rosette had been caught, Gu Lang hadn’t quite figured that out yet.

Killing those poachers? He couldn’t do it. In his entire life, he hadn’t even slaughtered a chicken.

But abandoning Wang Ping and driving back to camp? That was equally impossible. Though Wang Ping was just an animal—with the added quirk of being surprisingly human-like—he had saved Gu Lang’s life more than once. Even if retrieving Wang Ping’s body meant risking his own safety, Gu Lang refused to back down.

In his heart, Gu Lang silently vowed that if Wang Ping really did die, he would honor him every day with three sticks of incense upon returning home. The memorial tablet would read: "The Spirit of the Nameless Buzz-cut Bro."

Such is the unreliable nature of the human mind. By the time Wang Ping found Gu Lang, the man had already decided which room in his house would hold the memorial tablet. He was even debating whether to add a statue of a honey badger riding a leopard, and whether the offerings should be snake soup or honey.

Gu Lang swore he wasn’t wishing for Wang Ping’s death. The first words out of his mouth—"How are you still alive?"—were absolutely not malicious; they were, in fact, born of concern.

Screams, unlike gunshots, don’t carry very far. So Gu Lang, who had gotten lost and wandered farther away, had no idea that the poachers chasing him were now too preoccupied to care about him.

With claw marks still fresh on his face from Wang Ping’s earlier swipes, Gu Lang followed behind the honey badger and the leopard, heading back toward the camp.

Considering the poachers still had guns—and even if they were swollen like pig heads from bee stings, they were still dangerous—Wang Ping decided that revenge was best left to him and Rosette. Gu Lang’s job was simple: get back to camp and cook dinner, making up for the fish he’d lost that morning.

As they passed a moss-covered fallen tree lying across the forest path, Rosette suddenly stopped, growling low.

Wang Ping sniffed the air. A fragrant scent mingled with the overpowering stench of blood.

“What’s wrong?”

Even a fool could tell something was off, and though Gu Lang might look foolish, he wasn’t stupid. Seeing the two animals pause, he instinctively crouched behind a tree root and whispered the question to Wang Ping.

Wang Ping cursed inwardly. He wanted to roll his eyes but, as usual, failed. Cursing again, he wondered why Gu Lang kept asking questions, knowing full well neither of them could—or would—answer.

The smell in the air told them everything they needed to know. Wang Ping leapt off Rosette’s back and ran to the top of the fallen tree. What he saw made his heart skip a beat.

The sight before him was one even he found hard to stomach.

The freckled man lay motionless in a puddle at the base of the tree, lifeless.

Wang Ping turned his small head, scanning the ground around him. On the trunk of the fallen tree, there was a distinct black streak—likely the mark left by the freckled man’s shoe as he slipped.

As for the cause of death, Wang Ping forced himself to examine the body for a while but couldn’t pinpoint it. The puddle beneath the corpse was dyed red with blood, though it was unclear where it had come from.

Despite the body being grotesquely swollen—like a 300-kilogram wild boar—and covered in dead bees, Wang Ping doubted the bees alone could have caused such massive internal bleeding.

Could this guy really have died just from slipping and falling?

Wang Ping found it hard to accept such a ridiculous death. Imagining the despair the freckled man must have felt in that final moment made Wang Ping feel almost sorry for him.

The freckled man could be said to have died from the fall—or not. More accurately, he died from sheer bad luck.

Of all the poachers who entered this forest, the freckled man was undoubtedly the unluckiest. First, Rosette had dealt him a brutal blow, breaking two ribs and causing him to bleed profusely. Then, before he could even catch Gu Lang, a hive of bees dropped on him out of nowhere.

Like everyone else, the freckled man had fled in terror—but not before running into a tree, losing two teeth, and lagging behind to become the bees’ primary target. Finally, as he crossed this very spot, the slippery moss on the fallen tree sent him tumbling forward. His broken ribs pierced his heart, and just like that, he died here, in the most absurd way possible.

“Ugh…” Behind him, Gu Lang gagged.

Seeing that Wang Ping hadn’t moved from the tree and that no immediate danger seemed present, Gu Lang cautiously approached Rosette and craned his neck to peer ahead. What he saw in the puddle made his stomach churn.

What does a person look like after being stung to three times their size? This bloated corpse bore no resemblance to the henchman Scarface had once relied on.

At that moment, both Wang Ping and Rosette, along with the retching Gu Lang, instinctively looked up at the sky.

The distant sound of a helicopter grew louder, approaching rapidly.

Gu Lang’s first thought was: “Damn it! Who did I piss off to warrant a helicopter coming after me?”

But after a moment of calm reflection, he realized the truth: the viewers in his livestream must have called the police. Help was on the way!

Glancing at Wang Ping, Gu Lang’s smile faltered.

What now? Should he really send them to the zoo?

Meanwhile, Wang Ping was thinking the same thing.

What now? Should he seize this chance and leave with Gu Lang?

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