--- STATUS ---
[Host]: James
[Species]: Smilodon fatalis (Male)
[Age]: 1 Year
[Strength]: 70 (+)
[Agility]: 65 (+)
[Physique]: 67 (+)
[Gene Points]: 35
[Integrated Genes]: Flat-headed Peccary, Clouded Leopard, Giant Hyena, Shark
[Reinforced Parts]: Skin Hardness (Lv1), Tail (Lv1)
[Added Abilities]: Bite Force (Lv1), Tooth Regeneration (Lv1)
---
James stared at the status panel. Strength, Agility, and Constitution had each been reinforced by 5 points.
The effect was immediate. He felt the surge of physical power flowing through his limbs. The stamina he had drained during the previous fight was replenished instantly. He was revitalized, his body functioning with renewed energy.
"System, do you have the standard three-dimensional attributes of an adult Smilodon for comparison?"
James issued the query. He needed to calculate the exact distance between his current sub-adult state and a fully developed apex killer.
---
DING!
[The standard three-dimensional attribute data for a male adult Smilodon fatalis in its peak period is as follows: Strength is 130 points, Agility is 60 points, and Constitution is 100 points.]
[Note: From the sub-adult to the adult stage, as body size increases, the Strength attribute of the Smilodon will grow significantly, the Constitution attribute will grow slightly, and the Agility attribute will drop back.]
---
The system provided the data instantly. James processed the logic. The male intruder that had previously invaded their territory was likely operating at this level.
Typically, a Smilodon reached full physical development at age three. However, their true prime occurred between five and eight years old. In this window, their bodies were fully mature, and they possessed the accumulated combat experience and survival instincts honed by the natural world.
Based on his observations, Mom and Dad were currently in this peak phase. They were likely five years old. Once a cat passed the age of eight, their biological functions would decline. By age ten, they entered old age. Surviving the hazards of the Pleistocene while elderly was a desperate, losing struggle.
Back in the safety of the den, Mom and Dad rubbed their heads and necks together. They were communicating. It was clear they intended to follow the path of the herbivores and migrate back toward the Rocky Mountains in the north.
The Mississippi plains offered plenty of prey, but the concentration of predators was too high. The Titanis birds, the American lions, and the Pachycrocuta clan were constant threats to the family's survival.
James supported the decision. Winter was over. The herbivore herds would be returning to the Rockies. Food would be plentiful.
However, before leaving, James had a specific objective. A Pachycrocuta clan of this size was a rare opportunity. He wouldn't find a gene point haul like this in the mountains. He was not going to let them go.
The night was black. Thick ink-like clouds smothered the horizon, blocking out the light of the stars.
James slipped out of the cave. He walked across the dark prairie, a solitary silhouette. He had not informed Mom or Dad of his departure. They would not understand his goal and would only attempt to prevent him from leaving. Moving alone was the only efficient option.
The hyena clan was reeling. They had failed to secure a kill today, and nearly half their members were dead. Their Queen had been slaughtered. Their power was shattered.
They were still more fortunate than the other clan James had seen earlier, which had been exterminated by a pack of Dire Wolves.
In the hyena camp, a coronation was taking place. The remaining female guard had been chosen as the new leader. The air was filled with noisy, hysterical barking as the ceremony concluded.
The process was strange. The hyenas formed an orderly line, each approaching the new Queen to lick her genitals. This was their way of showing submission.
Hyena society was a strict matriarchy. The females were the rulers, physically larger and more aggressive than the males. Their authority was reinforced by bloodlines and a web of kinship that ensured they always had more supporters within the pack.
The ceremony ended. The exhausted hyenas scattered across the camp, lying down in small groups to sleep.
James located the camp after a search. He found the piles of white, chalky feces the pack used to mark their territory and warn off other predators. He ignored the signal and moved inside.
He stopped at a large tree and climbed. He stood on a thick branch, looking down at the complex terrain of rocks, bushes, and flat ground where the hyenas were sleeping.
He watched for fifteen minutes, his mind working to map out the positions of every hyena. Then, he slowly climbed down. He had selected his first targets.
To eliminate his scent, James had caked his body in a thick layer of river mud. The dark, wet earth made him look like a black-clad assassin.
He dropped his belly to the ground. He crawled through the thickets, moving toward two hyenas sleeping together at the edge of the camp.
His shoulder blades rose and fell with a rhythmic motion as he walked. His lower body remained low. His long tail was held straight and stiff like a spear, providing perfect balance. He was silent. The sound of his movement was so slight it could not be detected even from a few inches away.
A few male hyenas were still awake. In their hierarchy, the males were the lowest class. They were forced to perform the most grueling labor, patrolling the territory and guarding the cubs while the females slept.
These sentries failed to notice James. They did not believe any predator would be bold enough to invade their camp alone under the cover of night.
James reached a position twenty meters from his targets and stopped.
Like most animals, hyenas were light sleepers, ready to wake at the slightest vibration. But as James reached their side, they remained deep in sleep. They were completely unaware that their deaths were standing directly over them.