The three of them arrived at a small patch of bushes, startling two young warthogs. Falke's arrow shot, but missed.
Nash and Haizaki Shogo both felt a pang of regret—the roast pork that was within reach had flown away.
They pushed through the bushes and arrived at a small pool, the same one where they had gathered water and caught catfish yesterday.
Falke set up the fishing net while Nash and Shogo kept watch. Once Falke finished, all three crouched in the low shrubs beside the pool.
When everything was in place, Falke, with his experienced hunter's air, whispered to Shogo and Nash.
"Keep your voices down. Maybe a gazelle will come to drink. Could be dinner tonight."
"Your archery skills—are they good? Should we set a trap?"
"Yeah, are you any good?"
Falke, looking both confident and slightly pitiful, lifted his bow without a word.
Silence fell over the pool, broken only by the chirping of unknown birds.
Soon, a lone gazelle cautiously stepped to the water's edge.
Shogo, Nash, and Falke's eyes lit up. Falke already drew his bow, aiming at the gazelle.
"Swoosh!"
The arrow struck the gazelle, likely piercing its lung. The three cheered and dashed through the bushes after it.
Nash ran ahead, Shogo followed, and the tall Falke stayed behind.
"I'll chase Nash. You check the fishing net, Falke."
"Got it!"
Considering Falke's size, Shogo decided it was better for him to manage the net. He and Nash pursued the gazelle, one after the other.
Suddenly, Nash stopped. Shogo, puzzled, heard Nash's low voice.
"Don't move. There's a leopard in the grass."
Instantly, Shogo froze, gripping his spear, alert.
"Where?"
"Left, ten o'clock. Don't look directly at it."
Shogo used his peripheral vision. There it was—a massive leopard, crouched in the bushes, completely still.
Instead of fear, Shogo felt excitement and anticipation.
In a whisper, he said, making Nash's hairs stand on end.
"Nash… want to hunt this leopard together?"
Nash paused, then finally responded, his voice low, almost bloodthirsty.
"You sure?"
"Absolutely. I want a leopard fur scarf. Heh heh heh!"
"How do we attack?"
"I will go in strong. You cover its escape route. Deal?"
"No problem."
"Alright, three-second countdown after I speak. Ready?"
3… 2… 1…
"Ssshhh!" The spear sliced through the air.
Shogo's gray eyes glowed with electric intensity. The spear shot forward like a dragon striking the sea—precise, deadly—targeting the hidden leopard.
"Roar… meow… roar…"
The spear struck perfectly at the leopard's neck, pinning it to the ground.
Shogo was already empty-handed—the spear had been thrown with full force.
Nash reacted instantly. With the glowing Belial Eye, three swift cleaver strikes severed the leopard's head.
Shogo pulled the spear from the silent body, impressed.
"Excellent technique—fast, accurate, lethal. I like it."
"You're good too. Using the spear like that… you must be trained. And entering the [Zone]? Impressive!"
"Ha! Enough praise. Help me skin it—I want a leopard fur scarf."
"No problem, just a moment."
"Hmm, you handle that. I'll fetch the gazelle."
Nearby lay the fallen gazelle. One arrow had pierced its lung—dead instantly. Falke's shot clearly revealed him as an expert hunter.
Dragging the gazelle, Shogo approached Nash, who had quickly skinned the leopard and tossed the fur to him.
Nash then gutted the gazelle, discarding the unwanted organs.
With surprising strength, Nash dragged the gazelle back alone.
"Need help?"
"No, piece of cake. Easy work."
Seeing Nash handle it easily, Shogo led the way back to the pool with the leopard fur in hand.
At the pool, Falke, fishing net full of catfish, looked at Nash dragging the gazelle and Shogo carrying the leopard fur. His expression said: What the heck happened here?
"Hey, guys, what's going on?"
"Nothing. This madman killed a leopard, and I skinned it," Shogo said casually.
"WHAT?"
Ignoring Falke's incredulous look, Shogo threaded the spear through the fishing net and began heading back to camp. Nash dragged the gazelle ahead.
Falke looked at his spear, the drops of blood still dripping—it was unbelievable.
Soon, the three were back at camp. Nash handled the meat—processing excess fresh meat into jerky and dried fish to prevent spoilage within two days.
Shogo cooked the catfish and set up a large fire to roast meat.
Falke gathered firewood. Without wood, no fire. Without fire, an African night is no place to be.
"Shogo, you play basketball?"
"Yes, you?"
"I do. Seems we're both decent."
"Agreed."
Shogo roasted meat while casually chatting with Nash.
"You're crazy… killing a leopard! Didn't you fear death?"
"If I wanted to kill it, I dared to think about it. Once I dare to think, I ask you! Are you afraid of death?"
"Madman! But… I like it. You're my brother, Shogo!"
"Ha! From the moment you agreed to hunt the leopard, you became my brother too."
Shogo and Nash exchanged a look, then laughed heartily. Words weren't necessary—they understood.
Falke, returning with firewood, looked bewildered.
"Guys, did I miss some fun?"
"No, the meat will be ready soon. Excited?"
"Ha! Yeah! Finally, we have meat to eat!"