The Evolutionary Path of the Lion

Chapter 12 Mother's Lesson

What pulled Chen Fei out of his half-awake state was not light, but sound.

The muffled thuds of bison hooves pounding on the grass came rhythmically from the west, the low-frequency vibrations creeping along the ground into our ears.

Chen Fei's ears automatically turned toward the sound source during sleep, and his consciousness was pulled back.

He opened his eyes, his nostrils twitching first.

The morning breeze blew in from the east, carrying the dampness of the river and the scent of the grassy plants, as well as a faint, highly recognizable lioness's scent—but Sel's scent was not beside him.

Ahead.

The direction closer to the western grassland.

Chen Fei raised his head and looked ahead, following the scent.

Sel is gone.

Big Head was still curled up in the same spot, with his four legs in the air and his belly turned over, sleeping like a stone that had been casually thrown onto the grass.

Chen Fei got up without making a sound, followed the scent of Sair to the western edge of the grassland, squatted down next to a clump of waist-high grass, and looked ahead through the gaps in the grass.

Sel has already taken action.

She kept her body extremely low, her abdomen almost touching the ground, and her limbs landed so lightly that they seemed weightless. Each step she took landed on the sparsest part of the grass, minimizing the sound.

Chen Fei stared at her movement path, not reacting immediately.

Then he understood.

Instead of heading directly toward the lame bison, Sel walked in an arc.

Bypass the bison herd from the right, always keeping the landing point on the line connecting the lame target and the main body of the herd.

It's not about approaching the prey, it's about cutting off its escape route.

This is the core logic behind a lioness's hunting strategy.

It doesn't rely on speed, it relies on angle.

When a bison herd is startled, its instinctive reaction is to shrink towards the center of the group, and the slower the individual, the more likely they are to be pushed to the outside.

However, if the predator blocks the path between the lame target and the group in advance, the first step it takes after being startled will be in the wrong direction.

They're not running towards the group, they're running towards the predators.

Chen Fei's mistake yesterday was right here.

He chose a spot with a lower wind direction, which was the right direction, but the entry point was directly to the side of the lame bison. Once exposed, the target's first reaction would be to run towards the herd, and he would end up being the one chasing after it.

Sel chose to position himself diagonally forward, inserting himself between the target and the group.

By the time the wind direction revealed her, the target had no way out.

Chen Fei silently noted this detail down in the bushes.

The wind direction has changed.

The lame buffalo raised its head, half a second slower than yesterday—because when it was startled, it didn't see the threat at first glance.

Then it saw Sel.

But Sel was already rushing.

There was no warning at the start; the distance from stillness to full speed was just a breath away. Two deep claw marks were left on the grass, and the figure became an elongated yellowish-brown arc in the morning light.

The lame bison turned right, trying to run, but the right side was exactly where Sel had cut in.

It reacted and veered to the left, but the old injury on its left leg slowed it down by a whole beat in this sharp turn.

Sel pounced on it from its right side, placing its front paws on the bull's back and using the momentum to shift its center of gravity to the left. At the same time, its other paw gripped the side of the neck, and its lower jaw snapped shut, locking the throat.

It's not biting off, it's locking.

Lionesses kill differently than male lions.

A male lion crushes objects directly with the strength of its jaws.

Lionesses suffocate their prey by continuously locking their throats.

The former requires greater strength, while the latter requires better skill and endurance.

The bison struggled for about forty seconds, its hooves digging several deep grooves in the grass, before slowly coming to a stop.

The herd of cattle stopped twenty meters away.

The sentinel cow lowered its head and stood in confrontation for a moment, confirming that the threat was only directed at the lame individual. Then it slowly turned around and led the calf deeper into the grassland.

It's cruel, but that's just the daily life on the grasslands.

Chen Fei emerged from the bushes.

Sel raised his head, used his hind legs to slightly move the prey, then stepped back half a step and waited for him.

He walked over, bent down, and sniffed the wound on the prey's neck; it was warm and smelled fresh blood.

Then he started eating.

The lion's efficiency in eating was one of the things Chen Fei had been secretly grateful for since he transmigrated.

Large felines have digestive systems that absorb protein and fat very efficiently. The calories provided by an adult bison are enough to sustain an adult lioness for three to five days.

For this sub-adult male lion who is still developing, every high-quality meal means a considerable increase in evolutionary points.

In layman's terms, the better you eat, the faster you grow.

He ate for about ten minutes, prioritizing the thickest hind leg meat and the abdominal organs, then stepped back to give his place to Sel.

Sel didn't come over immediately; she used her paws to push the softest part of her abdomen toward Chen Fei.

The movements were casual and effortless, as if they were just a passing gesture.

Chen Fei paused for a moment.

He understood the meaning of the gesture.

You didn't get to eat it yesterday, so make sure you get some more today.

He didn't hesitate; he bent down, picked up the piece of meat, and ate it again.

Just then, a series of hurried running sounds came from the bushes.

Big Head is here.

He was clearly jolted awake from his sleep by the stench of blood. He stumbled over, his eyes not yet fully open, but his nose had already pinpointed the location of his prey. He plunged headfirst into the abdomen, ready to bite.

Sel slapped it with its claw.

Big Head was spun around halfway after being slapped, then sat down beside him looking aggrieved, turning his head away and staring at the distant river with an innocent expression that said, "I was just passing by."

But there was a small piece of internal organ at the corner of his mouth.

He didn't know when he caught it.

Chen Fei didn't expose him and continued eating his own food.

After finishing their meal, the three of them went their separate ways to digest.

Chen Fei found a sheltered spot on the grass and lay down, going over every detail of the hunt with Sel in his mind.

Angle of entry.

Landing point selection.

Starting time.

He put himself in the shoes of the other person, comparing his route yesterday with that of Sel today, and the difference was immediately apparent.

It's not a difference in strength, it's a difference in experience.

The fact that Sel walked that arc so naturally shows that she has done it countless times. Every step is muscle memory; she doesn't need to think, she just needs to execute.

And yesterday, on that grassy field, he was still thinking with every step he took.

The difference between thinking and doing is time.

He needs to practice.

[Host: Chen Fei]

[Identity: Sub-adult male lion]

[Energy Points: 433↑]

There are still 67 points away from the threshold of heat flow covering the limbs.

Chen Fei squinted, mentally solidifying the number.

Following this eating rhythm, with four to five more full meals, plus daily accumulation, you should be able to reach the threshold within half a month.

He got up and planned to walk to the edge of the western grass to practice the cutting-in movement he had just seen.

When I got close to the bushes, I stopped.

A low hum came from deep within the bushes.

Suppressed, brief, and slightly hoarse.

It wasn't the sound of a leopard.

The leopard's vocalization is a rough vibration similar to sawing wood, which Chen Fei has become very familiar with over the past few days; that sound is not it.

It was lower and deeper, like the cry of some larger animal deliberately suppressing its own.

Chen Fei stood still, turned his ear towards the bushes, and re-identified the frequency and source of the sound.

It's not a leopard.

What is that?