A hulking boar-beast burst through the bushes—tusks like scimitars, hide matted with mud, red eyes locked on us.
Twice my size, muscles rippling under bristly fur, its cock swinging half-erect like a club.
"And it's hung like a horse. If this is the alpha male, I'm the side dish."
[System Notification:
E-GRADE PRODUCT Identified
Wild Boar Carcass (Combat Yield).]
[LP Gained: +25 (Shared Kill Assist - Observer Bond).
Total: 31/100.]
[New Unlock Tease: Combat Scan - Future Yields Scale with Participation.]
It charged—earth shaking, straight for Lira.
She dodged lithe, drawing a bone dagger from her hip, slashing a shallow gash across its flank. Blood sprayed, but the beast wheeled, tusks swinging wild.
"Stay tied, whelp!" she barked, leaping onto its back—thighs clamping, dagger plunging for the neck.
"Stay tied? Fuck that, how can anyone stay tied in this situation"
Adrenaline surged, those measly LP buzzing like caffeine.
"hey system—dump it all LP into strength and agility!"
[LP can't be allotted to strength and agility]
"Why…?"
[Need 50 LP to unlock body status]
"50 LP to even access my body…? Oh come onnn… can you at least give me some starter package…?"
And yeah, there was no answer from that blue box bastard…
The vines snapped like wet noodles under my yank—strength humming through my veins, shoulders popping wider by the inch.
"Whoa, budget Hulk mode."
I lunged, agility kicking in like I'd chugged espresso—tackling the boar's side mid-swing, my shoulder slamming home with a crack that echoed my old boardroom bravado.
She glanced back, eyes wide—shock melting to heat. "You... broke free?"
Her tail flicked, brushing my leg as she vaulted off, landing beside me—body pressed close in the fray, breasts heaving against my arm.
That's what I hoped for, but I can't even free myself from these vines so I just have to wait for her to defeat that.
Well, now that I think that my brain is not tied up so I can help her a little bit with my knowledge.
"Hey, bikini lady, do you need my help? I can help you defeat it if you say 'help me, master!"
.
..
…
Well, what did I expect? no answer from her, but I could see her anger from her eyes.
Lira exploded into motion like a coiled spring snapping free—dagger already drawn, her body a blur of fur-tipped ears and lethal grace as she sidestepped the boar's initial charge.
The ground trembled under its hooves, tusks slicing the air where she'd stood a heartbeat ago, close enough to ruffle my loincloth.
"Ha! Too slow, you mud-grubber!"
she taunted, voice a sharp bark that echoed through the ferns, her tail flicking like a signal flag.
The boar snorted steam, mud flying from its nostrils as it barrelled after her shadow, but she darted left into the thicker underbrush, using the vines as her personal obstacle course.
"Terrain's my blade, pig bast*rd. Ferns for footing, vines for trip. Force you wide, expose that soft belly. Come on, charge blind—I've danced this dance with hungrier beasts."
The boar wheeled, eyes rolling red with rage, and Lira feinted right—dagger low for a gut slash that made it dip its head low, tusks gouging earth in a frantic swipe.
"That's it—commit, you dumb brute! Show me your throat!" she crowed, rolling under its belly in a tactical flip that flashed those killer curves mid-tumble, hides riding up just enough to distract even me.
Up she sprang behind it, dagger whipping in a precise arc.
*Schink.*
The hamstring tendon parted like wet rope, blood welling hot and black against the mud-matted fur.
The beast squealed—a high, pissed-off wail that hit like nails on a chalkboard—and lurched sideways, its thunderous charge turning into a hobbling stagger.
"Feel that burn? That's for rooting up my trails, tusk-rat!"
It spun sloppy now, off-balance, tusks swinging wild arcs that shredded vines but missed her by inches.
Lira circled like a shark in shallow water, forcing it to pivot on that wounded leg, her laugh throaty and wild.
"Oh, you're mad now? Good—mad means sloppy. Come at me again, pig; let's see if you learn!"
"Got your rhythm, tusk-face. Slow turns mean open flanks. One more feint, then the kill.
Eye for the village's pot, heart for my trophy."
She darted in close, dagger thrusting for the throat in a feint that pulled its head low—classic bait-and-switch, making the boar overcommit with a bellowing lunge.
Its neck stretched exposed, and she struck true: blade sinking into the soft spot behind the ear, twisting to sever the artery in a gush of crimson spray that painted her arm like war paint.
"Yes! Bleed for the village, you bastard—scream louder; let the sisters hear your end!"
The boar thrashed harder, haunches bucking air in a desperate bid to shake her off.
But Lira was already moving—yanking the blade free and leaping onto a low branch for height, using the tree like a sniper's perch.
"Up here, you blind fool—try reaching me now!" she mocked from above, raining down stabs with surgical precision.
One to the shoulder joint—*crunch*—crippling the foreleg with a spray of bone-shards and blood.
Another grazing the spine—paralyzing twitches rippling through its hide like a bad shiver.
The beast reared up on hind legs, tusks scraping bark inches from her boots, steam puffing from its maw.
"Almost... hold the pose, idiot. One drop, and you're mine. Too high for you, eh? Pathetic—fall already!"
While Lira was cursing the boar, I had only one thing in my mind:
"Wowwww, she can curse that boar that much.
But come on, you idiot, you can just kill it by flying high, its head is it weakness—that's the easiest way to kill it…"
By hearing that she dropped from the branch like a falling star—dagger reversed for the overhead plunge, driving straight into the exposed eye socket with a wet *pop-schlick*.
Hilt-deep, she ground it ruthless, carving through to the brain in a tactical finisher that popped like overripe fruit.
"Die, you froth-mouthed swine—Shadowfang claims you!"
The boar froze mid-rear—eyes rolling white—then collapsed in slow motion, legs folding like cheap lawn chairs, body slamming moss with a thud that sprayed blood and dirt in a wide, steaming arc.
Lira landed light beside the corpse, ripping her blade free with a flourish, flicking gore from the edge like confetti at a kill-party.
No mercy from her eyes, just killing instinct.
Just the electric afterglow of a fight won hard, not by smart. Her chest heaved under gore-splattered hides, nipples peaked like victory flags, a blood-smeared grin splitting her face.
It scared me a little, seeing her like that—raw, unfiltered, a bikini-clad whirlwind knee-deep in the slaughter.
*A Lady in a Bikini, Wading Through the Pool of Blood.*
Yeah, that's the viral title screaming in my head, the kind that'd blow up feeds and spark fan art nobody asked for. Hot as a fever dream, sure.
But with that edge of "holy shit, she's a machine."
My heart hammered—my mind still throbbing from her tease, now laced with a chill that said play wrong, and I'm the next dish for her dagger.
From my spot against the oak—wrists still vine-bound above my head, heart jackhammering like I'd chugged a triple espresso—I watched the whole thing unfold like a front-row seat to a beastkin blood ballet.
"Holy shit, she's a one-woman slaughterhouse," I thought, a mix of awe and "what the fuck did I sign up for?" churning in my gut.
Now what is going to happen to me, earlier I thought I can escape from her but there are lots of disadvantageous situation for my escape plan.
I have been tied up like a piñata at a sadist's birthday party, my basic body strength is literally low all I could do was yank futilely at the knots while she danced death around that porker.
I have to explore more so that I can gain the upper hand...…