Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C169

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Chapter 169:

BANG!

A massive cloud of dust erupted at the edge of the poachers’ hideout. Among the group, one man who had been craning his neck to watch the aerial acrobatics between and the suddenly collapsed.

There was an unspoken rule within the security team: if their members were injured by enemy fire, they were authorized to eliminate the poachers outright. More often than not, the captains turned a blind eye to this approach.

But , visibly frustrated, was frantically calling out to over the radio, urging her to hold her ground until he arrived. Unfortunately, Anna had removed her earpiece earlier and hadn’t heard a word.

For a few tense seconds, silence hung between the hillock where Anna hid and the poachers' pit. Then, like rapid gunfire, bullets rained down on the mound in front of Anna, sending up plumes of dirt and smoke.

The sudden escalation didn’t escape Wang Ping’s notice either, but he had far more pressing concerns at the moment.

"Hey, buddy, why don’t we take this fight to the ground?"

Terrified of accidentally pulling out the eagle's feathers and turning himself into a splatter of pixels upon impact, Wang Ping had shifted from grabbing to clutching. He now clung to the bird’s neck with all fours, holding on for dear life.

Meanwhile, the golden eagle—struggling to breathe under Wang Ping’s chokehold—performed a series of aerial stunts. It flipped, spun 360 degrees, executed graceful glides, twisted into 720-degree rotations, and even flew upside-down before abruptly halting mid-air, plummeting briefly, then swooping back up again, attempting to dislodge its unwanted passenger.

Some say life is like a rollercoaster, full of ups and downs. But Wang Ping would argue that rollercoasters are nothing compared to riding a golden eagle. That kind of thrill makes any theme park ride feel as tame as a family reunion.

The wind roared past his ears, feeling as though invisible hands were yanking him downward. Wang Ping dared not loosen his grip, fearing that one slip would leave no room for recovery.

After what felt like an eternity, the eagle finally seemed to tire, using wide circling glides to catch its breath.

Only then did Wang Ping dare to relax slightly, clinging to the eagle’s neck. He realized belatedly that he’d been holding his breath since being lifted skyward. Miraculously, he hadn’t passed out—a feat he credited to his survival instincts.

From high above, the view stretched endlessly across the . Everyone’s positions became crystal clear. Wang Ping spotted Anna crouched behind a small hillock, pinned down by relentless gunfire. To her south, another figure sprinted toward her position.

In the southeast, a third figure moved laterally, forming a triangular pattern with Anna and the poachers. Meanwhile, Wang Ping remained largely unnoticed.

"Damn it," he muttered. "If only I’d brought those detonators—I could’ve dropped them from up here!"

Just then, Wang Ping noticed the eagle veering eastward, carrying him farther away from Anna.

"Hey! What are you doing? Stop flying! Get us down, big guy!"

Wang Ping tried nudging the eagle’s neck downward, but without leverage in midair, his weight barely registered against the powerful bird. His efforts proved futile.

Frustration mounted as his fear of heights subsided, emboldening him. In a fit of anger, he raised a paw and smacked the eagle squarely on the head.

A piercing shriek echoed through the air as the eagle flapped wildly twice, then suddenly went limp. Wang Ping felt a surge of weightlessness—he was spiraling downward, accelerating uncontrollably. His reckless slap must have stunned the bird.

"Oh crap! Wake up! We’re crashing! I’m sorry!"

Panic-stricken, Wang Ping clutched the eagle’s neck and shook it desperately. As the ground rushed closer, he scrambled toward the bird’s back, searching for a softer spot to cushion his fall.

At the last possible second, the eagle regained consciousness—or perhaps it had been feigning injury all along. With a powerful beat of its wings, it pulled up sharply just meters above the ground.

But inertia carried Wang Ping forward. He barely grazed the eagle’s back for a split second before tumbling off, clutching a handful of feathers.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!"

With a loud THUD, Wang Ping hit the ground amidst a swirl of feathers. Dust billowed around him as he lay sprawled in the classic “five-point star” position, dazed and motionless.

Above him, the eagle soared back into the sky, circled once, and dove again with alarming speed, aiming straight for the prone honey badger.

"Ow… ow…"

Thoughts sluggishly returned to Wang Ping’s mind. Every bone in his body ached as though it might shatter. He pushed himself up with trembling paws and noticed a faint trail of blood marking the indentation his body had left in the dirt.

He touched his face; no visible wounds, but when his paw brushed his lips, it came away smeared with blood. Internal injuries?

"Crap, am I going to drop dead later from internal bleeding?"

Cold sweat trickled down his spine as he strained his ears. The sound of flapping wings grew louder.

"Again?"

Spotting a walnut-sized rock nearby, Wang Ping snatched it up, rolled onto his feet, and hurled it at the diving eagle, now less than two meters away.

SMACK!

The rock struck the eagle’s chest, dislodging a few feathers. The bird cried out, flapped its wings, and retreated skyward, circling menacingly overhead.

Wang Ping collapsed onto his rear, heart pounding wildly. Relief at surviving warred with anxiety over potential injuries.

Then, a strange rustling noise caught his attention. Looking ahead, he saw a gray-furred rabbit lying motionless just twenty meters away.

"What the heck? Where did this rabbit come from?"

As he scratched his head in confusion, the rustling grew louder. Following the sound, he noticed a slight rise in the terrain west of the rabbit. A canvas tarp covered with uneven layers of dirt blended seamlessly with the surroundings. Hidden beneath the camouflage, two dusty faces peered out, making exaggerated “pspsps” noises, desperately trying to draw Wang Ping’s attention.

"Come closer, just a little closer," one of the men cooed with a lecherous grin, resembling a creepy uncle luring children to look at goldfish.

Glancing at the rabbit, the exposed trap frame nearby, and the two grime-covered faces opposite him, Wang Ping couldn’t help but feel a mix of disbelief and disdain.

"Have poachers’ standards really dropped this low, or was my judgment always too high?"

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