Chapter Eighty-Seven: Encountering a Leopard!

At this moment, Qin Feng was completely unaware that others were discussing him. He was running at full speed, knowing he had to leave this place before the enemy caught up. Only by escaping quickly could he ensure his safety; otherwise, if the enemy managed to surround him, he could very well end up captured with no way out.

Qin Feng raced through the wilderness, moving so fast he no longer knew exactly where he was. All he understood was the need to keep heading forward—only then would he avoid his pursuers and stay alive.

Suddenly, a piercing wolf’s howl echoed from the nearby forest, powerful and resonant, carrying a palpable sense of menace and a formidable fighting spirit.

“A wolf king?” Qin Feng had fought packs of wolves before, and had even faced a wolf king. He immediately recognized the distinctive howl: it was deep and carried far, reverberating through the woods with an ominous warning of danger and a fierce, looming battle.

“If there’s a wolf king, there’s likely a pack nearby. I must be careful,” Qin Feng thought. The wolf king’s presence usually meant its pack wasn’t far behind.

He had killed wolves before, and he knew they were vengeful creatures. Caution was essential if he wanted to avoid another deadly encounter with a pack. But if evasion proved impossible, he would fight as he always had—only through constant battle could he hope to survive.

The law of the jungle was simple: the strong preyed on the weak. Power determined survival. Qin Feng, now deep in the wild, too had to abide by these rules; otherwise, living through the ordeal would be nearly impossible.

Just then, a thunderous sound rumbled overhead—the sky threatened rain.

Qin Feng dared not slow down. He sprinted ahead, pushing himself harder. A chill wind swept through the forest, setting the trees swaying and sending leaves fluttering down, the stark cold of winter pressing in from all sides.

Birds chirped and flitted among the branches, searching for food. Once they realized no sustenance was to be found, they moved on, their lively calls fading as they vanished deeper into the woods.

Suddenly, a shrill cry—sharp and commanding—cut through the air as a mountain eagle soared up from the forest, disappearing swiftly into the darkening clouds above.

Thunder rolled once more, lightning flickered, and an ominous, electrifying tension filled the air.

Then came the rain. First in steady sheets, then pouring down in torrents, drumming relentlessly against the canopy.

Zhang Cheng, too, dared not linger. He ran swiftly, circling to the far side of the forest. The heavy rain washed away his tracks, making it nearly impossible for the enemy to follow.

Qin Feng’s pace grew even faster, and gradually the sound of his pursuers faded behind him, drowned out by the relentless downpour. Yet he did not stop—he knew only by fleeing could he find safety.

The rain hammered the leaves, filling the forest with a ceaseless roar. After more than ten minutes, Qin Feng realized the chase had ended; the downpour and the harsh environment must have made pursuit impossible.

He slowed his steps but did not stop. He understood that in this cold, soaking rain, pausing would only sap his body heat and risk illness. Only by keeping up his speed could he generate enough warmth to survive.

All around him, the world turned to a blur of white mist and rain. The forest seemed shrouded in fog, obscuring the way ahead. Winter had made the cold even more biting, and the rain was merciless.

Still, Qin Feng kept running, knowing his best chance was to never stop, to keep his energy up and his body alive.

Suddenly, he sensed danger ahead—a powerful, predatory presence. He turned sharply and caught sight of a leopard, standing motionless, almost perfectly camouflaged in its surroundings. If not for the cold gleam in its eyes, one might have mistaken it for a creature long dead.

Qin Feng’s heart skipped a beat. He had not expected to encounter a leopard here. It was hiding, perhaps from the rain, but its searching gaze hinted at another motive—it was hunting.

He halted at once, assessing the animal. It was a full-grown adult, strong and dangerous. Qin Feng braced himself, every sense alert.

In a flash, he drew his combat knife, watching the leopard with icy calm. He dared not use his gun—the shot would only draw the enemy’s attention, placing him in even greater peril.

He was amazed to encounter a leopard here, but this one appeared to be a solitary hunter. Leopards were known for acting alone; rarely did they form groups.

The beast met his gaze, cold and unyielding, sizing up Qin Feng as potential prey—wondering if this intruder could be brought down to fill its belly.

“So it’s really a leopard,” Qin Feng thought, noting the savage glint in the animal’s eyes. He didn’t wish to fight it; he needed to reunite with his team, not waste precious time here—unless, of course, the leopard forced his hand.

Gripping the knife, he began to inch backward, unwilling to linger any longer. The leopard, however, remained motionless, its eyes flickering with disdain, as if mocking Qin Feng’s retreat.

“Imagine that. Even the leopard is laughing at me,” Qin Feng mused, surprised by the animal’s apparent contempt, as though deriding him for backing away from a fight.

But the leopard had made up its mind—it saw Qin Feng as prey. In its world, only the fiercest survived. It believed it could triumph over him, that Qin Feng was no more formidable than any other creature of the wild.

The jungle’s law was absolute: only the strongest endured.