Chapter 26: What a Massive Wild Boar

If it had been any other time, Zhang Tiejun would certainly have stepped forward to see what the commotion was about, but today, he felt a flicker of hesitation.

There was no other reason than the fact that this area was known as "Wild Boar Howl."

"Wild Boar Howl" was the name given to the place by the locals of Qiao Family Shop. In reality, it was a vast, untouched expanse of primeval forest. According to the markings on the cowhide map he carried, the word "boar" was written there in clear, ominous characters.

In the Guandong Mountains, there was an old saying: "First the boar, second the tiger, third the bear." Unlike the domesticated pigs raised in pens, wild boars possessed offensive and destructive power that could far exceed that of a wolf. These beasts, with their green faces and long, protruding tusks, were not picky eaters. They could swallow wild grasses and berries, gorge on rotting animal carcasses, and even include live rabbits or chickens on their menu. An adult Guandong wild boar could reach a length of two or three meters and easily weigh several hundred pounds. While these boars did not typically travel in packs, they were terrifyingly dangerous.

Most importantly, to soothe an itch, wild boars often rubbed themselves against the trunks of sturdy pine trees. The pine resin secreted by the trees would coat them day after day, and the sticky sap would mat their already thick, coarse fur into a natural suit of armor. This specialized armor was so tough that even a freshly sharpened blade would be useless against it. If he hoped to take down an adult Guandong boar with the old-fashioned flintlock hunting rifle in his hands, he might as well be walking into a latrine with a lit lantern—it was pure suicide.

However, although wild boars had thick skin and flesh, the probability of them attacking people unprovoked was low, and it was not currently the rutting season.

During the time Zhang Tiejun spent contemplating, the woman's cries grew increasingly frantic. Though he had initially wanted to ignore them, he hesitated for a moment and ultimately chose to investigate. Logically, a wild boar’s habitat was not static; to avoid predators and forage for food, an adult Guandong boar would often trek dozens of kilometers a day. Unsure of what was happening, even if he went, it was uncertain whether he could handle the situation. But regardless, it was a human life at stake.

Zhang Tiejun instinctively touched his holster. Unlike a wolf, his hunting rifle might not be able to kill a wild boar, and his heart hammered against his ribs as he tried to figure out how to respond. If the boar turned its aggression toward him, let alone saving someone, he would barely be able to save his own life.

He crept forward cautiously, climbing over a small hill following the sound, and finally witnessed a startling scene.

A wild boar, nearly three meters long and weighing hundreds of kilograms, was relentlessly ramming into a young, immature pine tree. Perched in the canopy of the tree was a girl, her face deathly pale with terror. Despite her visible fear, her exquisite makeup and clean, tailored skirt were proof that she came from an extraordinary background. Zhang Tiejun surmised she must have come from a big city, but with proper roads available, why would she end up in such a remote, inaccessible deep forest?

"No time to think," Zhang Tiejun realized, seeing that the boar had already gouged through the tree’s roots. In another three to five minutes, it would come crashing down.

"Save her." Zhang Tiejun quickly steeled his nerves. He had to save her, but the question was how. His low-power, old-fashioned flintlock hunting rifle could inflict injury, but the small lead pellets were far from enough to kill a boar with a single shot.

After turning it over in his mind, Zhang Tiejun had to take a desperate risk. "This is the only way."

The boar’s fur was impenetrable everywhere, but its eyes were its only weak point. Furthermore, a pig’s vision was peculiar; they could not look up and had no way of seeing what was above them. With his rifle slung over his back, Zhang Tiejun climbed a pine tree. Climbing was a technical skill, especially with a tall, straight tree like a pine, but fortunately, Zhang Tiejun was agile and experienced. He gripped the trunk with his legs to form a circle and pushed himself upward with his arms.

Just as he was about to reach the top, the girl in the distance spotted him and began waving her arms, shouting in hopes that he would notice her. This movement, however, drew the attention of the boar.

The scene reminded Zhang Tiejun of the old saying: "One does not fear an opponent like a tiger, but one fears a teammate like a pig."

The boar, now nearly crazed, came charging toward Zhang Tiejun, kicking up a storm of fallen leaves. Caught off guard, Zhang Tiejun was nearly shaken from the tree by the force of the boar’s impact against the trunk.

Facing such a perilous situation, Zhang Tiejun knew he was way out of his depth. This wasn't a game; he was essentially playing with his life.

The arrow was already on the bowstring; he had no choice but to fire. As the boar prepared for a second charge, Zhang Tiejun raised his rifle, aiming for its eyes. Unexpectedly, things went wrong. The gunpowder needed to prime the flintlock had spilled at some point, and without enough powder to ignite the charge, he couldn't pull the trigger.

The pine tree began to crack. If he couldn't find another way, he would likely die not in the jaws of a wolf, but under the hooves of a boar.

"I! I have a gun here!" the girl seemed to realize the problem Zhang Tiejun was facing and shouted urgently.

It was only then that Zhang Tiejun realized what had felt off—it was the girl's accent. Her voice was awkward, the tones were off-key, and there was a strange, foreign lilt to her pronunciation.

"Japanese!" Zhang Tiejun gasped, looking at the girl in disbelief.

But there was no time for that. Seizing a moment of hesitation from the boar, Zhang Tiejun leaped from the three-meter-high tree. A sharp pain shot through him, followed by a wave of numbness and soreness. Adrenaline surged through his veins, preventing his movements from slowing down; if anything, his speed was amplified.

When the girl saw him approach, she threw a handgun toward him. One look at the weapon made Zhang Tiejun’s heart sink. It was a Colt 1911 close-quarters defensive pistol with a six-round magazine. Because of its exquisite craftsmanship, it was mostly kept by collectors. While it was standard in terms of accuracy and fire rate, its only drawback was its lack of stopping power. It had an effective range of thirty meters and was meant for close-quarters combat against people, not a crazed, armor-plated wild boar!