James didn't care about the Saiga antelope carcass. His mind was on the Gene Points. While Mom and Dad focused on the meat, he watched the retreating shapes of the Giant Hyenas. These Hyenas had cornered him months ago, and now that he was nearly double their size, he wasn't going to let the opportunity for revenge—and experience—slide.
As the hyena clan scattered in a panic, James lunged. He didn't wait for them to find their rhythm. He used the explosive power of his cat muscles to bridge the gap in seconds, targeting the one lagging behind the group
BAM!
A single, violent paw-strike from James sent the slowest giant hyena tumbling into the dirt. Its limbs flailed in a frantic scramble, but the sheer impact left it stunned and unable to right itself.
James didn't give it a second chance. He lunged, pinning the hyena with his weight. Before it could snap its bone-crushing jaws, James drove his sabers deep into its neck. He clamped down, applying the full force of his reinforced bite.
CRACK!
The sound of snapping vertebrae echoed in the night. The sabers sheared through the carotid artery and crushed the spinal column instantly.
A clean kill.
The hyena's eyes bulged, its limbs twitching in a final, useless reflex. The light in its eyes vanished as its life spilled out into the snow.
[Ding! Host killed a Giant Hyena. Gene Points +35.]
"YIP! YIP-AOOO!!"
The remaining hyenas didn't look back. They poured every ounce of their strength into a desperate sprint, vanishing into the darkness.
These scavengers move fast... pity I only caught one.
James stared at the retreating shapes. He remembered the fight from three months ago when these same Hyenas had nearly cornered him. He had burned with a need for revenge ever since.
Times had changed. James was now a physical monster, nearly double the size of an average male hyena. In a one-on-one clash, he could end them in seconds. Even against three or four at once, he possessed the raw power to dominate the field. His explosive acceleration far outclassed theirs; only in a long-distance chase would their superior endurance give them an edge. But with James constantly dumping points into his Physique, even that gap was closing.
Leaving the carcass where it lay, James returned to Mom and Dad to share the fresh Saiga antelope meat.
Shortly after the family left, the four survivors returned. They weren't alone. They had brought a massive clan of over twenty hyenas, arriving with a chorus of low, menacing growls.
When they found nothing but bleached bones and red-stained snow, the clan erupted in a collective snarl. In these lands, the Pachycrocuta were the ones who stole from others. No one stole from them.
A few days later, James's family encountered several hyenas scouting the borders of their territory.
While most predators ignore different species unless competing for a kill, the Smilodon viewed the Giant Hyena as a persistent, notorious pest that needed to be eradicated on sight.
"ROAR—"
Mom and Dad bellowed a thunderous warning, ordering the trespassers to clear out. The hyenas turned and fled, keeping a wide distance. However, as the family began their hunt, James noticed the same shadows trailing them from the high grass.
He recognized them immediately—the scouts from the night of the antelope kill.
Are they looking for a rematch?
James narrowed his eyes, scanning the horizon. A handful of hyenas were no threat, but these creatures were bullies who only picked fights they knew they could win.
Are there more of them lurking?
"ROAR!!"
Infuriated by the persistence of the stalkers, Mom and Dad charged. The hyenas bolted instantly. The parents gave chase for a hundred meters before stopping, panting heavily. They watched with frustration as the hyenas stopped just out of reach, yapping and barking in a mocking display.
James stayed low, watching the brush. He knew the intelligence of social predators like dire wolves and hyenas. They uses dirty tricks. He wasn't going to let his parents be lured into a trap.
Field Note: The Giant Hyena (Pachycrocuta) was the ultimate opportunistic predator. While a Smilodon could overpower one easily, a coordinated clan would use harassment tactics—constantly nipping and retreating to exhaust a larger predator before the entire pack closed in for the kill.
Mom and Dad rested for a moment before giving up the chase. They couldn't afford to waste more energy; they needed to eat. As they moved on, James took the lead. His importance in the family had grown; Mom and Dad now relied on his analytical mind to pick targets and set tactics.
James eventually spotted a herd of Macrauchenia (Long-necked Llamas).
I don't know much about these guys, but they don't seem aggressive. They're fast, but they don't have much else going for them.
He decided on a classic ambush. He tracked their movement, calculating their path.
"They're moving from the west. There's a massive Bison herd to the east, so they won't head that way. They'll push north for the fresh grass."
"The wind is blowing south... perfect for an ambush from the north ridge."
James watched as the herd did exactly as he predicted. Now, he needed a target. He ignored the healthy ones, looking for a break in their focus.
He found it. A male Macrauchenia was busy circling a female, constantly nudging her with its long, trunk-like nose. The female ignored him, focused on the leaves of a nearby shrub, but the male was relentless—a literal simp of the Pleistocene.
James locked his gaze on the distracted male. He would teach the creature a final, bloody lesson: Simping gets you killed.