The female Macrauchenia had clearly reached her limit. Losing patience with the male's relentless pestering, she let out a complaining moan and walked away toward a different patch of grass.
Seeing his efforts ignored, the male's temper flared. He trailed her to the new spot and suddenly reared up on his hind legs, slamming his weight onto her back. He wasn't asking anymore; he was going for a forced approach. In the wild, there are no laws—if the soft approach fails, raw power takes over.
The female whipped her head around, refusing to submit. She began bucking and kicking like a stubborn mule. This was no easy task, and the male was clearly lacking in experience. He strained to keep his grip, but within seconds, the female's frantic struggling allowed her to slip free and trot away.
The male didn't give up. He remained obsessed, trailing her with a pathetic, clingy persistence. He tried several more times, failing at every turn.
Watching from the high grass, James felt more embarrassment than him. The creature couldn't even manage a basic mating act, yet it was supposed to be a Harem Beast? Despite the mental mockery, James kept his eyes locked on them, subtly shifting his position to stay in the perfect strike zone.
Time crawled by. Under the male's relentless badgering, the female finally began to show signs of submission. Her resistance grew sluggish, and her kicks lost their fire. Sensing his moment, the male rearmed himself and moved behind her for one last attempt.
James watched with a cold, unblinking gaze. He even found himself silently rooting for the male.
Come on, buddy. Get it done. The moment you succeed, I'll make sure your death is quick.
Under James's poisonous encouragement, the male finally found his mark.He gave a victorious shout , self-satisfied howl, as if bragging to the entire herd about his victory. But his expression quickly turned serious as his body began to rhythmicly shake. There was no joy or pleasure in it; he looked like a soldier performing a routine, mechanical duty.
In the natural world, few animals enjoy the act of reproduction the way humans do. For most, it is a high-risk necessity for the survival of the species. Furthermore, animal mating is often pitifully brief. Many birds finish in less than a second. Even lions, the kings of the savanna, usually wrap things up in about ten to thirty seconds.
To compensate for the brevity, they simply increase the frequency, sometimes going dozens of times a day during the heat.
James knew the window was closing. The moment the male mounted and became physically locked into the act, his situational awareness dropped to zero. This was the turning point.
James broke cover.
He didn't creep or stalk. He surged forward in a direct, explosive motion. His golden fur rippled in the wind. Every bound sent grass and dirt flying.
"MOOO~~"
The two herbivores caught sight of the charging Smilodon and erupted in high-pitched shrieks. The male felt every muscle in his body go soft with terror. Abandoning his legacy instantly, he scrambled off the female's back and bolted.
James witnessed the ultimate act of unfaithful survival. The male didn't care about his mate; he just wanted to live. The female fled in the opposite direction. James didn't hesitate—he locked onto the male.
The Macrauchenia was fast, but the trap was already set. Mom, Dad, Zack, and Zoe burst from the brush in a coordinated pincer movement. They blocked every escape route, funnelling the terrified male back toward James.
"ROAR!!"
James leaped. He airborne-tackled the male from behind, his claws digging into its rear. The herbivore tried to drag James's weight for a few stumbling steps, but the momentum was too much. It tripped and slammed into the dirt. Before it could scramble back up, Mom and Dad were on top of it, pinning it to the earth.
The hunt was over. The male Macrauchenia let gave final, despairing shriek, his eyes bulging as he stared at the red-stained sabers of his killers.
The female had already escaped into the distance, following her herd away from the danger zone.
James drove his teeth into the male's throat, ending his life in a spray of red.
[Ding! Host participated in killing a Macrauchenia. Gene Points +25.]
As the system chimed, James released his grip, ready to eat. But the victory was short-lived.
"A-OOO! A-OOO!!"
The raspy, discordant yapping of hyenas echoed from the nearby brush. James turned to see the scouts they had noticed earlier. They were no longer hiding. They approached with a mocking, sinister confidence.
Then, more shapes emerged. Twenty. Thirty. A massive clan of nearly thirty Giant Hyenas swarmed out of the thicket. They laughed and barked in a chaotic, ear-piercing chorus, circling the family like sharks sensing blood.
The trap had been sprung. Led by their Queen, the clan had been stalking the family all day, waiting for the cats to exhaust themselves on a kill before moving in. In the face of such massive numbers, the hyenas were arrogant and predatory. They stared at the fresh meat and the tired tigers with hungry, unblinking eyes.
Mom and Dad stepped forward, baring their blood-soaked sabers and letting out a thunderous, vibrating warning. But the hyenas didn't back down. Under the Queen's direction, they began to fan out, forming a perfect circle.