A Hunt for Survival
In the silent woods, bare trees stood tall, their branches reaching into the cold sky.
Several red-billed birds pecked at the ground, unaware of the predator nearby.
Tang Wen quietly approached, crouching behind a large tree not far away.
He bent down, his arm gently drawing back before suddenly swinging his hand, as if skipping a stone across a pond.
Whoosh!
A cry of agony filled the air.
A red-billed bird, about the size of a fist, fluttered its wings and tumbled to the ground.
Hit!
Tang Wen's excitement surged as he rushed over and grabbed the still-twitching red-billed bird.
Its sharp teeth and pointed beak dug into his hand, stinging him with every struggle. He twisted its head, and with a final snap, the bird went still.
Meat!
Tang Wen swallowed hard, stuffing the bird into the cloth bag at his waist. Then, he pulled out another stone.
"Chirp, chirp."
The remaining red-billed birds fluttered up to a tree within range, calling out as they landed on the branches.
Tang Wen smiled. These birds had learned to conserve their energy in the harsh environment, making them easier to hunt.
Whoosh!
Thwack!
The stone hit the branch with a miss.
The red-billed birds were startled and took flight once more, scattering into the air.
Tang Wen sighed.
Chasing them would be a waste of energy.
The experience panel updated:
[Skill: Stone Throwing, Mastery (0→17/1000)]
Seventeen experience points?
It felt different hitting a living target. Excited, Tang Wen carefully continued to search the forest.
The red-billed birds were fewer here. More could be seen on the black grass outside, where people from the camp and scavengers roamed.
Tang Wen preferred the forest's stillness and didn't want to reveal his stone-throwing skills in front of others.
His feet crunched over dry, withered branches and leaves, the earthy, rancid stench filling his nostrils.
"Chirp."
After walking for a while, a familiar cry reached his ears.
Tang Wen paused and carefully gauged the direction, moving toward the front-right.
"Chirp chirp chirp chirp."
Four or five red-billed birds were calling from the branches.
For the first time, their red beaks appeared so vivid, their chirping melodious.
This is what Seven Mile Fragrance must smell like!
Whoosh!
The stone interrupted their calls with a more satisfying scream.
The experience panel flashed:
[Skill: Stone Throwing, Mastery (17→33/1000)]
Thud.
The red-billed bird fell, but Tang Wen didn't pick it up immediately. He watched as the remaining birds took flight, scattering to different trees.
The distance wasn't great, and they were now dispersed.
Tang Wen smiled, retrieved the dead bird from the ground, and walked toward the next tree.
Even without their calls, the bright red beaks were more noticeable in the sparse, withered forest than the thinning hair on his previous company boss's head.
Whoosh, thud.
Another red-billed bird fluttered to the ground, lifeless.
[Skill: Stone Throwing, Mastery (33→51/1000)]
This didn't startle the other birds, who remained on the trees.
Bending down, Tang Wen picked it up, took out a fresh stone, and moved quietly toward another tree.
Whoosh, thwack!
The stone hit the branch, creating a sharp sound.
"Damn it!" Tang Wen cursed as the nearby red-billed birds flew away.
He took the stone, aimed, and threw it once more.
As expected, he missed.
The jungle grew darker quickly.
He had to speed up.
Half an hour later, the sun had completely set.
Tang Wen hurried back toward the camp. Without streetlights, the night brought a heightened sense of danger.
Many people were returning as quickly as he was, and a few people with sticks were crouched by the roadside, eyeing everyone suspiciously.
Their thieving gazes scanned the people passing by.
Tang Wen's bulging waist naturally drew their attention.
Fortunately, he noticed their intentions before they made any move.
What kind of world is this?
He cursed silently but didn't quicken his pace. Instead, he feigned a stumble, making the cloth bag at his waist rustle.
It's just a stone!
Those unlucky scavengers probably thought Tang Wen had uncovered some food.
The thieves heard the sound and eyed his thin, gaunt body. They knew this kid hadn't eaten much.
They quickly assessed him as easy prey, but with no food to steal, there was no point in bothering with him.
Seeing their disinterest, Tang Wen adjusted his pace slightly and walked toward the camp, keeping his expression neutral.
He didn't breathe easy until he was safely inside the camp.
Safe!
That was worth ten pounds of millet flowers.
He passed by the entrance to his shack without stopping, heading straight to the market.
On the east side of the camp, several rows of stone houses stood, and people were setting up stalls on the wide road.
Most of the stalls were filled with items scavenged from unknown sources.
As Tang Wen walked past, he noticed these were things that even the most desperate scavenger on Earth would avoid.
This area was on the outskirts of the camp, where people were only slightly better off than the scavengers outside.
Tang Wen continued down the path until he reached a stone wall. A large iron gate stood in the center, flanked by stone houses resembling bunkers. He stopped there.
From his memory, he knew that the area beyond the gate was called "the city."
In the eyes of the people living on the camp's outskirts, the city was a place where one could eat millet rice every day.
Everyone wanted to live there, but it was a place only for the privileged.
Li Ge, who collected the rent for the camp, had said that just paying extra grain wasn't enough to live in the city.
Tang Wen stared at the solid stone wall, his curiosity piqued.
The large stone slabs must weigh hundreds, maybe thousands, of pounds. How could such a well-constructed wall be built by hand?
With people like him, who could barely eat, could they really have constructed such a thing?
Or does the city still have some remnants of civilization?
His stomach growled loudly.
Tang Wen smiled bitterly. Who was he kidding? He couldn't even get enough to eat, so why bother thinking about these things?
He looked over at the right-hand side of the stone house, where a triangular flag with the character "Rice" embroidered on it hung.
A rice shop.
Rumor had it that it was run by a big shot from the inner city.
"Out with you, empty-handed!"
Tang Wen had just stepped inside when a voice came from around the corner.
A man, clad in leather armor with a leather hat and holding a crossbow, appeared. The steel arrow glinted coldly in the dim light.
"Yes, yes, I have red-billed birds," Tang Wen quickly said, taking out a dead bird from his bag.
"Go in," the man said.
Tang Wen nodded and walked into the room. A long table stood inside, with a scale at one end.
The yard was filled with large, black pottery rice vats, each one bigger than a person.
Are they all filled with grain?
Tang Wen, his stomach aching with hunger, breathed quickly, his eyes reddened.
If I had all that grain... or even just one vat, I could survive this winter!
"Red-billed birds are rare, let me see," an old man in the back of the room slowly stood up from a recliner.
Tang Wen handed over the bird.
"Oh, you captured it alive? Twisted its neck, huh?"
Before the old man could finish speaking, Tang Wen raised his thumb. "Boss! You're spot on! How much millet can I get for this one?"
The old man smiled slightly, weighed the bird, and noted, "It's less than two taels. After plucking it, there'll be about one tael of meat. I'll give you three millet for one tael."
"Uncle, can you give me a little more? I haven't eaten well in a long time," Tang Wen said with a smile, trying to sound charming. He knew that one tael of meat would usually get him ten taels of rice.
"Got anything else in the bag?" the old man asked.
"Yes, I have two more."
Tang Wen took out two more red-billed birds.
"Wow, quite capable!" the old man chuckled. "All right, since you're looking thin enough to become a skeleton, I'll give you one and a half catties of millet for each bird. If you catch more, bring them to me."
"I will! Thank you, uncle! Thank you, boss!"
"Okay, clever boy," the old man said with a smile.
The rice was scooped and weighed.
Tang Wen put the coarse cloth bag in his arms, thanked the man again, and walked out of the rice shop, his heart a little lighter.