Evolution points had almost been wiped clean, dropping to just 850.
However, his Constitution had risen sharply—by a full 7 points—pushing Zhang Yang's Constitution into the 20 range.
This sudden surge of 7 Constitution points caused Zhang Yang's body to visibly swell in a very short time.
The abrupt increase even caught the attention of Lang Qing, the wolf standing guard at the entrance.
But Lang Qing didn't think much of it; he simply assumed this was the result of Zhang Yang digesting that tiger.
In Lang Qing's view, it was only right and proper for the strongest member of the pack to become even stronger. Only then could he lead the pack toward a better future.
After another day of rest, Zhang Yang's injuries had completely healed.
Not only that—the wounds didn't leave a single scar on his body.
By now, Zhang Yang's physique had changed dramatically. After swelling up a size, his body length reached 2.5 meters, with a shoulder height of about 1.7 meters. He was already an extremely large jungle wolf—more imposing than even Lang Qing's father.
"Today we hunt. Same rules as before. Once all of you have raised your strength, we'll go annex other wolf packs."
Zhang Yang announced his short-term goal to the pack.
Hearing about annexing other packs, the jungle wolves immediately became excited. They all wanted to belong to a large pack instead of their current small group that could be wiped out at any moment.
In the end, Zhang Yang left five strong adult wolves to guard the den—along with Lang Qing leading the five juveniles. There was food stored here, and he didn't want any more accidents happening at the home base.
Same rhythm, same pattern, same results—except now the hunting range had expanded significantly.
There weren't as many prey animals left near the den anymore.
By afternoon, while crisscrossing the territory, Zhang Yang suddenly stopped.
One of his subordinates had signaled that they were about to hunt an elk ahead, but on the way, he had spotted another kind of prey—a species they hadn't hunted in the past few days.
A wild boar.
The boar was very sturdy—short legs, low build, but extremely long tusks. In this jungle, almost nothing dared to provoke it.
Because this thing was reckless enough: 300 kg of body weight, capable of sprinting at 70 km/h, plus those two massive tusks—anyone who messed with it would suffer.
Even that young tiger wouldn't dare touch a wild boar; one mistake and it could easily flip the situation.
Even a wolf pack hunting as a group usually wouldn't provoke such a creature unless they were desperately short of meat.
When Zhang Yang locked eyes on this wild boar, it was grunting contentedly, sound asleep in a mud pit.
Even though it knew a jungle wolf was staring at it, the boar showed zero awareness of being targeted.
Utterly self-assured—sleep when it wants to sleep, no one can make it change.
Zhang Yang was not pleased.
Hey, are you seriously showing this little respect to me, the hunter?
"King, unless it's necessary, don't hunt wild boars."
The jungle wolf following behind Zhang Yang finally caught up.
Seeing Zhang Yang's eyes gleaming as he stared at the boar, he immediately guessed what his leader was thinking.
But this thing is really hard to deal with… we can't be impulsive!
You're the only pillar left in our pack. If you get taken down by that boar and flip the script, how are we supposed to survive afterward?
"You stay here and watch. I'm going to have a little chat with him."
Zhang Yang was never the type to listen to advice.
This cute little wild boar—would killing it count as an over-level kill?
Spending a whole day hunting in his range only netted him around 3,000 evolution points. Compared to that, Zhang Yang much preferred over-level kills.
The jungle wolf following him was dumbfounded.
What on earth is inside our Wolf King's head? Did he not hear a single word I just said?
That thing can't be provoked! If something goes wrong, we're done for.
…Fine.
No use saying anything now—Zhang Yang had already charged forward.
This just goes to show: no creature should ever be careless; one must always maintain reverence toward everything around them.
This wild boar clearly hadn't faced any real attacks for years—vigilance wasn't even in its vocabulary.
Lying in the mud pit with its belly up, it proudly exposed its weakest point right under Zhang Yang's wolf jaws.
Fortunately, Zhang Yang didn't have a habit of biting into mud.
Otherwise that one bite would have ripped its guts open.
Even so, just the pressure of Zhang Yang's four paws stomping on its belly was absolutely agonizing.
The wolf claws left deep gashes in the boar's stomach. The bloody wounds mixed with mud felt like salt being poured into them—excruciating pain.
The boar squealed in agony. After two loud cries, it rolled over and stood up from the mud pit.
By now, its eyes were blood-red.
It was about to go berserk.
This wasn't some special talent—just a very short temper. When its rage couldn't be controlled, it had to vent.
And the target of that vent was none other than Zhang Yang, the instigator.
A puny little jungle wolf dares to mess with your great pig lord? You must have a death wish.
The boar began pawing the ground with its hind legs, then charged like a small freight train, tusks lowered, straight at Zhang Yang.
If that hit solidly, Zhang Yang would almost certainly be launched into the air.
He might even end up with two bloody holes in his body.
The subordinate jungle wolf, seeing this scene, was about to rush in to help.
But before he could move, Zhang Yang let out a sharp bark.
"Stay put. This one's mine."
Zhang Yang was outrageously arrogant.
Asking for help from a subordinate just to deal with a little wild boar? That would be far too humiliating for a Wolf King.
Still, he had to admit—this boar really was thick-skinned and tough. The claw wounds on its belly had only bled a little before stopping.
Perhaps the mud helped somewhat, but it was mostly due to the boar's own constitution.
"With this body weight, having high Constitution makes sense. Looks like this should count as an over-level kill, right?"
Zhang Yang's eyes were shining again. Facing the boar's charge, his four legs coiled like springs and he effortlessly leaped into the air.
The boar missed, skidded to a stop, and immediately turned around.
Another charge—this time it even backed up a few steps on purpose, increasing the run-up distance to make the impact even more powerful.
"What a worryingly low IQ…"
Zhang Yang couldn't bear to watch anymore. How on earth have these jungle wild boars managed to survive so long?
Apart from being reckless, they have zero connection to intelligence. Just the slightest bit of trickery is enough to kill them.
The boar, of course, had no idea what Zhang Yang thought of it—otherwise it might have tried even harder.
Who are you calling stupid, huh?
The next moment, Zhang Yang leaped in front of a large tree—thick enough that three people could barely hug it. The red-eyed boar didn't care where Zhang Yang was standing; it was going to ram him anyway.
The result was predictably tragic.
The wild boar perfectly demonstrated what "low IQ" really looks like.