“I really don’t want to die like this...” Despair blew her pupils wide. Xiao Qianxue tried to drink in one more glance of the jeweled sky, but a massive bear paw eclipsed her whole world. Little Loli was about to be snuffed out like a candle—when a boulder whistled in and smashed into the bear’s skull.

“Rooaaar!” The bear toppled with a crash. Little Loli’s unfocused gaze caught a spark of light again, and she shouted, voice sharp as a tossed pebble on a still pond, “Stupid bear! If you’ve got guts, don’t hit girls—come chase me!”

She forced her golden eyes toward the voice. Lin Fan stood there, both hands raised, waving like a man trying to bait thunder.

“Roar!” The bear staggered up and shook its head, rage rolling off it like heat. Its prize was about to be in its claws, yet this pest had spoiled it. With a simple, brutal mind, it dropped Little Loli and chose the louder target first.

Bang. Another rock—who knew where Lin Fan dug it up—cracked off the bear’s head. “Roar!” The beast went berserk, and Lin Fan bolted into the dark-green sea of undergrowth. He ran faster than when Little Loli had chased him earlier, feet a drumbeat on roots and stone.

“This idiot...” The corner of Little Loli’s lips twitched upward, a fragile crescent. “Cough...”—blood flowered from her mouth, staining her uniform a fiercer red. Pain tore through her organs like a storm ripping paper screens. “Even my insides... looks like... this is... the end...”

An irresistible drowsiness swept her, a tide that softened even the killing pain. “Lin Fan... I hope... you live...”

“This bear’s a tough one.” Lin Fan felt the hot breath on his back and pushed harder, heart pounding like a war drum. “Still... that scene just now...”

He’d been trailing Little Loli when the bear burst out, shadow-quick. He had meant to finish it, but Little Loli transformed before his eyes. Milk-white little hands bloomed into blood-red talons in a blink—enough to make anyone flinch. Then she struck and wounded the bear with a single savage blow.

“Could she be also...” The thought snagged him. In that heartbeat, the tiny figure was swatted into a tree with a bone-deep thud. Lin Fan didn’t think. He leapt out, yanking the bear’s hate onto himself. Only now did he realize how reckless that was. If he’d known this could happen, he would’ve prepared, and he wouldn’t be this ragged.

A bear can cruise at forty kilometers per hour, and hit sixty in a sprint. No human can outrun that. Even if Lin Fan wasn’t ordinary, he couldn’t hold that pace for long. “Going head-on with a mutant bear was arrogant. I don’t regret it.” He saw the blonde girl drenched in blood in his mind’s eye. “Even if I can’t escape, I’ll drag it far away from her.”

His focus slipped. A root hooked his foot. He went down hard. Behind him, the bear roared with glee and launched, a dark hill in motion.

At the knife edge of danger, Lin Fan rolled sideways, felt claws shear air where his spine had been, then kicked and sprang up. The bear, frantic, charged in with a flurry of wild haymakers, smashing the air like a blacksmith gone mad.

Lin Fan’s nerves snapped bright. He dove—clean, sharp—and slipped out of range. A tall tree loomed ahead. He shot a glance at the bear as it reset its weight, then scampered up the trunk like a monkey climbing to the moon. The bear blinked, found the ground empty, and glared up.

It hurled itself at the tree. Thud. The impact shook bark loose. Lin Fan’s balance pitched; he clung to the trunk by fingertips and grit, body dangling, breath caught high in his chest.

The bear saw that hit work and slammed in harder. Thud. The trunk boomed like a drum. The whole tree swayed. Lin Fan swung with it, inches from the fall.

“This can’t go on...” Only the iron in his arms kept him from being flung down. The bear kept ramming, again and again, a battering ram of muscle and hate. Then it roared, backed up a few steps, and threw everything into one last charge.

Crack. The trunk split where it had been battered. The tree groaned and began to topple. “Waaah—murder! Somebody save me!”

As the world tilted, Lin Fan tumbled with it, shouting and clinging to bark until both hit earth. The bear, seeing the tree finally down, plopped onto its rear and panted, steam rising like mist in cold dawn. That last charge had cost it plenty.

“Ah—” Lin Fan hit the ground hard, back-first, breath blasted out. During the tilt, he’d managed to plant a boot on a sturdy branch and kick off, dodging the cliché of getting his leg pinned under the trunk.

He’d taken a beating. He lay there, stars popping in his vision, and turned his head. The bear wasn’t coming yet. It was catching its breath. “Phew. Looks like this big oaf’s nearly spent.”

The ramming had split its wounds wider. Blood ran, dark as ink in shade. “Roar.” The bear steadied and started toward him.

“Don’t come. I taste terrible.” Lin Fan scooted back, palms dragging lines in the dirt.

A sweet voice rang behind him, like a bell in fog. “Run. I’ll hold it for a bit.”

He snapped his head around. The blonde Little Loli had arrived, a long, razor-sharp branch clenched in her hands.

Five minutes earlier

“It hurts...” Little Loli pried her eyelids open. A blood-colored mist wrapped her, knitting torn flesh with slow, stubborn threads.

“System: backup energy depleted. Host, acquire energy immediately. Repair suspended.” The mechanical voice faded like a dream.

She forced herself up. Most of the wounds had half-closed. “Not dead. Good... not dead.” She caught her breath in a thin whisper. Then the memory struck—Lin Fan, the bear, the chase. She grabbed a fallen limb beside her, bark rough against her palms, and sprinted after the tracks of one man and one bear.

Now

She went for the finish at one breath. She drove the branch straight for the bear’s eye, planning to spear brain with wood and end it clean. Reality was cruel. A heavy paw swatted the wooden spear aside, and the other paw flashed like thunder, slamming into her belly.

“Pfft...” She flew and crashed beside Lin Fan. Blood sprayed again. Half-healed wounds tore open, though not as catastrophically as the first time.

Seeing how her uniform was red through, Lin Fan’s temper flared. He ignored his own pain, pushed to his feet, and red light surged from his hand. Before he could even finish posturing—whap—another paw sent him skidding back to the dirt.

He staggered up again after a breath, legs trembling, planting himself between her and the bear. “No strength left... to use my ability.” Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.

Little Loli turned her head with effort and rasped, “Why... cough... didn’t you run... idiot?” She spat more red, never noticing the strange change that had flickered over his hand before.

Lin Fan smiled back at her. “Because... I want to protect you.”

The bear didn’t care about words. The human was standing again, a provocation in flesh. It slapped, casual and cruel. Bang. Lin Fan flew and crumpled, lights out.

“Roar!” The bear bellowed, delighted, ready to erase the last nuisance—then froze. That terrible pressure, that suffocating presence, returned like winter wind.

Little Loli rose by inches. Blood qi boiled around her, a storm that smelled of iron and rain. Her eyes burned abyss-red. Her golden hair bled into a heart-piercing crimson.

Blood qi gathered in her right hand. In a heartbeat, a scarlet longsword condensed there, a blade forged of mist and will.

She lifted her head. Those abyssal pupils locked onto the mutant bear. A cruel smile unfurled on her exquisite face. “Die... all of you die.”