A few steaks in, full and drowsy, Jing Yuan loosed a satisfied burp.
Maybe it was a day without hot food, but snowboar meat tasted incredible—just a pinch of salt, better than any cut on Blue Star.
Fed and warmed, he yawned, stretched, and strolled into the cave—found a spot, leaned back, and shut his eyes.
[Nap time?]
[Eat then sleep.
That’s our boy (facepalm.jpg).]
[Eat when it’s time, sleep when it’s time.
The Zone’s dangerous?
Don’t see it.
He’s just vibing (shades.jpg)~]
[It’s fine, fam.
He’s got Mimi.
Mimi will stand guard… right?]
[Counterpoint: Mimi just curled up too (lol).]
Indeed—leader taught, follower learned.
The kitten toddled in, curled by his side— and soon, two snores rolled out of the cave.
“Er…”
“General, isn’t he being too careless?” The middle-aged officer frowned.
“He’s still on the battlefield.
What if something wanders in?”
The old general could only smile wryly.
“The kid… is a little unbridled.”
Even he hadn’t expected this contrast—steel-hard in battle, feather-soft at rest.
In a Shanghai alley, Old Wang kept his face placid over the Go board.
He’d seen this too many times.
This was the Jing Yuan he knew.
The kid would nod off mid-game—what’s a post-meal catnap?
If conditions allowed, he’d brew tea and light incense too.
“Heaven lets me laze; let the sun and moon be busy,” as the boy liked to say.
While man and cat dozed,
Eagle Nation’s Trailblazer hit his highlight reel.
He’d found a snowboar herd as well—and there were no humanoid monsters nearby.
On the surface, better luck than Jing Yuan’s.
The lieutenant brightened.
So Dragon Nation gets a resource?
Big deal.
I can, too.
Materialize a herd at home, and I’ll be a hero of Eagle Nation.
He topped off his mags.
With Jing Yuan asleep, some Dragon viewers went window-shopping in other streams, landing just in time to see this setup.
Kindhearted, they tried a warning:
[Don’t rush it, bro.
Those boars are nasty.
Save your ammo for your usual tough guys back home (plead.jpg).]
[No shade, but the pigs are strong.]
[Even our Little Jing spent serious effort on the king.
You think a hot barrel solves everything?
(awkward.jpg)]
[Uncle’s advice: this water’s deep.
You can’t handle it.]
They learned the meaning of “free speech” in a hurry.
“Wait, I got muted in Eagle Nation’s stream?”
“Bro, I didn’t even swear.
Bullying honest folks, huh.”
“Classic: tell the truth, get muted.
That’s so Eagle Nation.”
With the muted filing back to complain, more Dragons piled in.
Lunchtime crowd.
Half the country watched Eagle Nation’s show between bites.
For people raised in Dragon Nation, live-fire streams are rare.
Must-see TV.
The lieutenant didn’t disappoint.
He worked by the book—found cover, dialed his sights.
To keep the noise down and stack bodies, he even screwed on a suppressor.
Then he breathed, steadied, picked a boar—and squeezed.
Pffft.
Hit.
The boar shrieked and dropped.
He lit up.
So the pigs weren’t like the monsters.
Hot lead worked.
Praise be—he’d claim a node too.
Dragon Nation had just gotten lucky.
He “knew” Dragon Nation.
He’d studied the East in the service.
No private guns there.
Same species—huge difference armed vs unarmed.
Eagle Nation’s chat cheered:
[Nice!
Army lieutenant, and the aim shows!]
[Great work!
Clean the herd and get us that manifestation!]
[I’m dying to go hunting.]
[Dragon folks—don’t get cocky.
We’re getting a national reward too.]
That’s the key.
What are we celebrating?]
Rational voices vanished in the flood—until the king arrived and the chat panicked:
[Holy—why is it so big??]
[Dragon Nation killed that?
How?]
[What beats something like this?!]
[Uh oh—it’s locked onto the lieutenant!]
In the Zone, the lieutenant saw those enraged red eyes and his scalp prickled.
Primal fear of giants froze his legs.
Worse, those eyes swung onto his hide.
The beast pawed, charging a rush.
“Damn…”
His gut screamed: run or meet your maker.
He was a hard man.
To snap himself out of it, he slapped his own cheek, pain sharpening him.
He turned and bolted.
Behind him, the king roared like a tank, plowing snow, wind slicing.
The chase replayed—only this time, the runner lacked Jing Yuan’s calm.
In the Palace of Freedom, the suited elder barked at his secretary.
“Why isn’t the stream down yet?
Do you know what this does to our image?”
His first instinct: kill the feed.
The secretary sweated through his suit.
“Sir, the broadcast controls aren’t fully ours.
We can mute accounts, but we can’t cut the picture—”
“…”
“Sir?”
“Sir, are you all right?!”
“Doctor!
Get the doctor!!”
Thank you so much for reading until the end.
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