Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C155

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Chapter 155: Would Eating Wolf Meat for Breakfast Be Too Greasy?

In the early morning, before the sun had risen, a thick layer of fog blanketed the valley. Across from the riverbank, in a triangular clearing, the tent's door flap stirred faintly as its zipper was pulled open just enough to create a small gap. A black, furry little paw slipped through the opening but quickly retracted after encountering the biting cold air.

Nearly ten minutes passed before the flap moved again. This time, a certain honey badger emerged, bundled up in a hoodie with its hood pulled snugly over its head. After stepping out, it carefully zipped the tent back up behind it.

Standing upright, Wang Ping watched his breath form tiny clouds in the chilly air and turned around to take in the scene. The world outside was engulfed in white mist. Barely two steps forward, he felt an icy chill shoot through his paw pads. Tiny ice pellets had lodged themselves between his toes.

"Damn… No wonder everything else is green and thriving while this place looks like a barren wasteland," Wang Ping muttered, hopping from one foot to the other as he made his way toward the Jeep. From the front pocket of his hoodie, he pulled out a set of car keys—larger than his own paws—and pressed the unlock button. The vehicle gave a soft chirp, and the side mirrors slowly extended outward.

He opened the door, shook the ice off his feet, and hopped inside. Making a beeline for the driver’s seat, Wang Ping inserted the key into the ignition switch. Sure, having fur helped him survive the cold—but surviving and being comfortable were two very different things. Inside the car, the temperature matched the freezing outdoors. His plan? Crank up the heater and warm himself first.

Perhaps it was because the heat from the tent had dissipated overnight or maybe because Wang Ping had opened the flap earlier, letting the cold seep in. Whatever the reason, just as he impatiently stomped on the clutch pedal and twisted the key, Gu Lang—rarely an early riser—emerged from the tent, bleary-eyed and shivering.

"Holy crap… holy crap! Did it snow last night?" Gu Lang exclaimed, startled by the frosty landscape that greeted him. Predictably, he shared Wang Ping's thoughts about seeking warmth and hurried toward the Jeep, climbing inside.

As soon as Gu Lang settled into the passenger seat, he burst into laughter at the sight before him. There was Wang Ping, straining with both feet on the clutch pedal, his head jammed under the dashboard, arms stretched taut as he awkwardly fumbled with the key using only the tip of one claw. It was straight out of a slapstick cartoon, utterly absurd.

"You laughing your ass off isn’t helping!" Wang Ping growled, giving Gu Lang a swift kick. Abandoning his efforts, he scurried over Gu Lang’s legs and plopped down onto the passenger seat.

Still chuckling, Gu Lang reached for the key, pressed the clutch, and turned it. The engine hummed briefly, but there was no roar of life. He tried again, twisting the key once more. Still nothing.

"Mmm…" The smile faded from Gu Lang’s face.

They exchanged glances, confusion written all over their expressions.

"It might’ve gotten too cold last night; the oil could’ve frozen," Gu Lang offered, trying to explain without alarming Wang Ping further.

"So what do we do now?" Wang Ping scratched his head, looking utterly baffled.

Glancing back at the tent, Gu Lang realized that when he’d exited earlier, he’d left the flap wide open. Even if they returned, it wouldn’t offer much warmth anymore.

---

Half an hour later, viewers trickling into the livestream greeted each other with cheerful "Good mornings" while observing Wang Ping huddled in a small blanket, his hooded head peeking out as he perched on a folding stool near the smoldering campfire.

Thanks to the hailstorm from the previous night, the fire had gone out prematurely, sparing Gu Lang the trouble of gathering more wood. However, due to dampness, the flames remained stubbornly weak, sending plumes of white smoke billowing everywhere. Wang Ping coughed repeatedly but refused to budge, cocooned tightly in his blanket.

Gu Lang considered heating up the engine with a charcoal brazier but found the only container available was a military-grade pot. Reluctantly, he donned his thick windbreaker, gloves, and headed toward the base of the mountain to gather dry firewood. If a brazier wasn’t possible, he figured burning a long log into charcoal would suffice.

As Gu Lang disappeared into the mist, Wang Ping tightened his grip on the blanket, steadfastly refusing to help. Just then, a shout echoed through the fog.

"Heh, you think I’m falling for that trick? Not happening!"

Pulling his hood lower, Wang Ping pretended not to hear. Moments later, Gu Lang’s voice rang out again.

"Boss! Come quick! You gotta see what I found!"

"Do I look like I believe that?" Wang Ping rolled his eyes internally. By now, some of the wood had dried, and the fire began crackling warmly, making Wang Ping even less inclined to move.

Soon, footsteps approached, and Gu Lang stumbled back into view, nearly slipping on the icy ground.

"Boss, I found a dog over there!"

Wang Ping: …Really? That excuse is laughable. Why not say you found a lion instead?

Sighing, Wang Ping prepared to feign death beneath the blanket when a sudden thought struck him. Considering their location, he bolted upright.

"A dog… Could it be a Tibetan mastiff?"

Throwing off the blanket, Wang Ping dashed out, following Gu Lang’s calls. But halfway, Gu Lang doubled back to grab the tablet from beside the fire.

"For heaven’s sake, why are you bringing that thing? If it is a mastiff, we’ll need to run for our lives!"

Annoyed, Wang Ping scrambled after Gu Lang, who stopped short less than a hundred meters away, crouching down to narrate something to the livestream audience.

Approaching cautiously, Wang Ping saw an animal lying motionless on the ground before Gu Lang.

"This doesn’t quite look like a mastiff…"

Circling around, Wang Ping kicked aside some ice pellets to clear a spot and stepped closer. On the ground lay a grayish-white wolf, its body lifelessly sprawled. One glance told Wang Ping that its spine was broken—it was unmistakably dead.

"So… all that yelling was because you found a dead wolf?" Wang Ping grumbled, his stomach rumbling audibly.

"Hmm… Would eating wolf meat for breakfast be too greasy?"

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