By the time Shun reached the Baron Archipelago's central zone, the sunset had painted the horizon a deep orange.
He found a patch of relatively dry ground. With a thought, he drew from his system space a prize from an earlier hunt—a massive drumstick from a Cloud-Swallowing Fire Turkey.
A Cloud-Swallowing Fire Turkey is a vicious, hyper-aggressive beast at Capture Level 20.
This leg was plump with meat and faintly pulsed with fire-aspect energy—perfect for restoring stamina and scratching a gourmand's itch.
Shun gathered some dry twigs. A flick of his finger sent a hair-thin spark to the pile, and the kindling caught.
He rigged the giant drumstick over the flames and turned it with patient rhythm.
The turkey meat, rich with fat, soon sizzled. Beads of golden oil fell into the fire, stoking it higher, and a fragrance—char and an oddly enchanting flesh-aroma—rolled outward like ripples across a still lake, flooding the silent jungle.
For starving beasts, that smell was lethal temptation.
Eyes began to glow between the trees—greens and reds pricking the dark.
A few rib-showing saber-tooth lynxes (Capture Level 2).
A drooling rot-venom hyena (Capture Level 3).
A coiled, restless giant python (Capture Level 4).
…
They'd been dragged from hiding by the unprecedented scent. They crouched and crept, growling low, saliva pattering onto the leaf-litter until it turned to mud.
They were obviously starving, pupils blazing not with pure wildness but with hunger and cornered desperation.
Yet none dared cross the invisible line.
Because they could feel it—terror that shook the soul—spilling from the human at the fire.
Older than appetite, written into life itself, that fear tugged harder than hunger. So they circled, torn between craving and dread.
Shun ignored the "audience" as if they were nothing but background props.
When the drumstick turned perfect—crisped outside, succulent within—he drew a pinch of Blaze Pepper Powder from the Universal Spice Casket and dusted the golden skin.
Szzzt!
At the first kiss of spice on hot fat, a bolder, piercing perfume detonated, sweeping the trees. The already ravenous beasts whimpered as if in pain, nearly losing control—yet still too afraid to advance.
Shun tore free a strip of meat and bit in.
Juicy, tender fibers burst on his tongue; the Blaze Pepper's gentle heat prodded his taste buds awake. The turkey's innate fire energy dissolved into him, topping off what he'd spent.
Eating, he turned over the island's ecology in his mind.
His brows knit, a thread of doubt rising.
Something was wrong with these predators.
Saber-tooth lynxes should be sleek, precise hunters; these had ribs like xylophones and dull, lifeless coats.
The rot-venom hyena looked gaunt, its drool threadbare and weak.
Even the giant python—normally round and cable-thick—seemed shrunken and dry.
The sickly green flicker in their eyes wasn't pure ferocity. It was hunger and hopelessness.
"Just like the storyline."
Chewing the energy-rich meat, Shun murmured, "A place like the Baron Archipelago should overflow with life. Tropical climate, rampant vegetation, herbivores in bulk. Predators at the mid-to-upper tiers might scrap for meals, but they shouldn't all be skin and bones."
He recalled what he'd seen on the way in: swaths of trampled vegetation; whole patches scraped strangely bare, like some giant had plowed through over and over.
He'd first chalked that up to the unusual Garara Gator's movements. But combined with these starved predators, the picture darkened.
"Unless a super-consumer showed up—something with an appetite way beyond the curve, strong enough to shatter the existing balance."
His eyes drifted toward the island's deepest heart—the source of the harshest, most violent aura.
"Ordinary Garara Gators sit around Capture Level 5—big eaters, sure—but not enough to strip the entire center. For this many mid- and high-tier hunters to starve on the doorstep, afraid to approach a den even when desperate… that Gator's strength—and appetite—are way past its kin."
"To sustain that kind of body, it needs more energy. To keep evolving, it needs more flesh. So it turns into a bottomless pit, devouring everything around its lair until the land becomes a 'food desert.'"
With that, Shun's view of the target sharpened.
It wasn't just oversized. For some reason, it had broken its species' limits—becoming monstrously strong and monstrously greedy.
"Looks like Komatsu's request is tougher than expected. But…"
He swallowed the last bite, warmth surging through his body, and a wolfish grin edged his lips. "That's the kind of prey worth hunting. The meat should pack one hell of an energy punch, too."
Boom… boom… boom…
Heavy footfalls rolled closer, thunder in the dirt. The ground trembled.
Shun rose, brushed off his hands, and faced the sound. The leisure was gone from his face, replaced by the poised focus of a professional Gourmet Hunter before battle.
"Perfect timing. I'm full. Let's meet, 'hungry' king."
Trees ahead toppled in rows under brute force. Through the blossoming dust, a mountain-sized silhouette bared its true shape.
A colossal crocodilian.
In form it matched an ordinary gator—but this one stretched over twenty meters snout to tail.
Its dark-green scales, matted with moss and scars, looked like chiseled stone.
Its maw gaped, short-sword teeth glaring bone-white; rank drool dribbled down to scorch the groundcover.
Lantern-big slitted eyes locked on Shun—and on the roasted drumstick still steaming in his hand.
The Baron Archipelago's overlord—Mutant Garara Gator—made its entrance.
(End of Chapter)
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