Liam Price didn’t care what Nikolai planned to do in the future, but for this bear hunt, they had to follow his orders.
To accommodate Nikolai and his group’s stamina, he and Broly had intentionally slowed their pace.
Walking from morning until past three in the afternoon, they had covered only a dozen miles or so.
Liam Price’s main reason for bringing young Broly along was that he considered it a great opportunity for the boy to interact with all kinds of people, saving him from struggling to adapt once they eventually moved to a populated area.
Whether his son appreciated his fatherly thoughtful intention, he couldn’t say for sure, but he could tell that little Broly was indeed having a good time today.
The others in the group, however, were another story.
“Dad, I really can’t walk anymore!” Nikolai’s second son, Dimitri, was on the verge of a breakdown from the walk and finally couldn’t help complaining aloud.
Sergei tugged at him, wanting to warn his younger brother not to be foolish—after all, their father’s beatings were far from gentle.
“If you think your backpack is too heavy, give it to me and I’ll carry it for you,” Sergei offered, trying to lighten Dimitri’s load.
But Dimitri slumped straight onto the ground, abandoning not only his backpack but also tossing aside the “youth model” hunting rifle his father had bought for him.
“No, no!
I really can’t walk on my own!
I want someone to piggyback me!” Dimitri threw a full-blown tantrum, kicking and rolling on the ground.
Because of this sudden outburst, the hunting party had no choice but to stop.
“Dimitri!
As a man, how could you just toss your gun aside?!” Nikolai walked back from the front of the line with an ashen face, habitually reaching down to unbuckle his leather belt, only to find nothing there.
Since they were out hunting, he was wearing hunting clothes with an elastic waistband.
Young Dimitri was genuinely dense.
Escaping a belt-whip lesson for the moment, he failed to notice the warning sign in his father’s movement.
“That green-haired brat up front isn’t carrying a gun either!
Besides, the rest of you all have guns—what difference does one less gun make?” Hearing this kid bring up Broly’s hair color yet again, Liam Price walked back from the head of the party.
As he passed a cedar tree, he conveniently snapped off a fresh, newly sprouted twig.
“What’s wrong, little buddy?
Can’t walk anymore?” Liam Price put on a “kindhearted” facade.
“It’s alright.
We’ve actually entered bear territory now—you can even see bear tracks on this game trail.
Since our little friend here can’t walk, we might as well set up camp and rest, then resume our search tonight.
After all, during Alaskan summers, brown and black bears are much more active at night, and real bear hunters track them after dark anyway.” Liam Price used the supple cedar twig to point around, explaining that they were currently on a game trail deep in the forest, before “inconspicuously” dropping the twig right at Nikolai’s feet.
Then he deliberately added a humblebrag: “I remember when little Broly was just over two years old, he tagged along with me around here at night and tracked down a male black bear.
The two of us had a bear meat barbecue late at night—man, it tasted incredible.” With that, Liam Price turned and casually strolled away.
Before long, sharp whipping sounds echoed through the forest, accompanied by a child’s mournful wailing.
Evidently, someone was using a disobedient child to test the flexibility of a fresh Alaskan cedar twig.
Liam Price had no objections whatsoever—it wasn’t his son getting beaten.
Sitting around camp with nothing to do was boring anyway; beating a kid to kill time was understandable enough.
Besides, the brat getting thrashed was no angel.
In just a few hours, he had mocked Broly’s hair color twice.
Little Broly hadn’t provoked him at all, yet Dimitri insisted on badmouthing him.
Who would believe the kid wasn’t doing it on purpose?
When a child badmouths another, the goal is nothing short of isolating the target—and that is often where bullying begins.
Liam Price was fiercely protective of his own.
Restraining himself from slapping the nasty kid across the face was already a massive display of self-control.
Besides, the boy had his own dad.
As long as the fire was properly stoked, what difference did it make who delivered the spanking?
Liam Price wanted to teach the brat a lesson about the cruel realities of the world: not everyone on Earth was his father, so why would anyone indulge him?
Hilarious…
Liam Price counted—the twig snapped after only four or five strikes.
He had been too kind, picking a twig that was far too thin and lacking in resin.
Seeing that the show was over, Liam Price set about preparing a nutritious snack for little Broly.
He pulled two homemade venison sausages and flatbreads from his pack, assembling several hearty meat sandwiches for himself and the boy.
Compared to the father and son, Nikolai’s group had only brought high-calorie US military MREs—filling, sure, but whether they tasted good was another story.
They rested from past three in the afternoon until nightfall.
After eating, Liam Price and little Broly took turns napping.
At 7:30 PM, thoughtful little Broly woke his father up.
Finishing the remaining meat sandwiches, they went to gather Nikolai’s group to prepare for the night hunt.
In Liam Price’s eyes, the bodyguards Nikolai brought were mediocre at best—just decorative tough guys.
Having been handed a rare few hours of rest, none of them had thought to take turns catching a quick nap.
The ones relieved from watch duty actually spent their time playing cards and chatting with their companions.
Still, Liam Price didn’t bother saying anything.
He had no obligation to, and the fee Nikolai paid didn’t cover tactical advice.
“Alright, we’re heading out to track,” Liam Price clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention to what he was about to say.
“No matter what you hear or see in a moment, don’t let your imagination run wild.
“Don’t be fooled by those *Discovery Channel* documentaries.
Bears may look goofy, but they’re extremely cunning—especially full-grown, solitary black bears.
“That’s why ordinary hunters usually set traps or use bait during the day to hunt bears.
Tracking them at night is quite dangerous.
“Although bears are omnivores, they’ll attempt to prey on any living creature they see, including their own kind and other bears’ cubs.
“Humans are definitely on their menu.
Even if hunting us is difficult, they will actively try when food is scarce.
“They won’t just stalk you like predators; they can also mimic human movements and even produce sounds that mimic human speech.
“So if you see a strange silhouette or hear odd noises later, don’t panic.
“Also, keep a close eye on the two kids.
Sandwich them in the middle of the group and don’t let them step outside the line.
“There are many of us.
As long as no one strays, a naturally cautious bear won’t risk coming close.
And once we find a mature male black or brown bear, we can start the hunt.”