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122: Lin XiaIn the nick of time.

Jiang Yuan moved.

He didn’t use any high-tech weapons, nor did he even utilize supersonic movement speed.

He simply reached down and picked up a fist-sized, sharp-edged rock from the ground.

At this moment, the Male Lion was less than half a meter away from the young man’s throat.

Jiang Yuan’s gaze turned icy in that instant as he instantly calculated wind speed, distance, and the hardness of the lion’s skull.

Precision Throw.

There were no fancy movements; the muscles of his right arm simply tensed for a split second before he swung it violently.

Swoosh—!

The stone tore through the air, actually letting out a sharp whistle similar to a sniper bullet breaking the sound barrier.

Bang!

A dull, teeth-gritting thud rang out.

As if it had eyes, the stone traced a straight afterimage through the air and struck the Male Lion precisely in the center of its forehead.

A massive amount of kinetic energy erupted instantly.

The two-hundred-kilogram beast was hit as if by a high-speed truck; its massive body was actually sent flying two or three meters away, crashing heavily into the dust.

Its limbs twitched a few times, and before it could even let out a scream, it rolled its eyes back and fell unconscious.

Jiang Yuan had held back, controlling his strength.

Otherwise, the stone would have shattered its skull like a cannonball.

The entire field fell into a dead silence.

The remaining two lions were stunned by this sudden, terrifying commotion.

They looked at their fallen companion and then at the indifferent-looking human in the distance. Some biological instinct told them—run.

The two lions tucked their tails between their legs, letting out whimpering whines as they dove into the bushes without looking back.

The young warrior who had escaped death sat blankly on the ground, looking at the unconscious lion before him and then at Jiang Yuan.

Was that divine power?

A single stone, from thirty meters away, had sent a lion flying?

Jiang Yuan, however, acted as if nothing had happened. He brushed the dust off his hands, walked over to pull the dazed warrior up, and helpfully patted the dirt off the man’s back, saying in a gentle tone:

“Be more careful next time.”

At that moment.

The way all the Maasai warriors, including the old chief, looked at Jiang Yuan had changed.

They no longer saw him just as a friend, nor merely as a brave warrior.

They were looking at a God of War descended to the mortal realm.

That night, the highest bonfire was lit in this primitive tribe.

Jiang Yuan was invited to sit in the seat of honor.

The old chief personally untied the red checkered cloak that symbolized the highest honor and power from his own body and solemnly draped it over Jiang Yuan’s shoulders.

Under the brilliant canopy of the starry sky, this group of Earth’s oldest warriors surrounded the Eastern man in the red robe and performed a war dance reserved only for heroes.

The firelight reflected on Jiang Yuan’s face. Holding a cup of the unpalatable local liquor, he watched this wild and sincere scene, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

After bidding farewell to the hospitable Maasai tribe, Jiang Yuan continued driving deep into the heart of the Serengeti.

As the rainy season approached, the climate on the savanna became increasingly volatile. The sun had been blazing in the afternoon, but by evening, heavy dark clouds suddenly gathered. After a brief thunderstorm, the originally hard red earth instantly turned into a muddy swamp.

This sticky soil, known as ’black cotton soil,’ is a nightmare for all off-road enthusiasts. Once stuck, the more one struggles, the deeper one sinks, like the savanna opening a black maw.

As dusk approached, the last glow of the setting sun was about to be swallowed by the horizon. The predators of the savanna began to stretch, preparing for their hunting hour.

Just as Jiang Yuan was preparing to find a high ground with a clear view to set up camp, a weak distress signal suddenly popped up on his vehicle’s radar screen.

In a low-lying area less than three kilometers away, a vehicle seemed to be in trouble.

“Let’s go take a look.”

Jiang Yuan turned the steering wheel. Although his land rover defender, modified by the system, looked no different from an ordinary car on the outside, its tire grip and engine torque were enough to drive it up a vertical wall; a mere bit of black cotton soil was nothing to it.

Ten minutes later.

Jiang Yuan saw the unfortunate vehicle.

It was a heavily modified old-model land rover defender 110, with spare tires and fuel cans on the roof rack. The body was covered in mud spots and scratches, clearly belonging to someone who made a living in the wild year-round.

At the moment, all four of its wheels were deeply embedded in the black mud, and the chassis was resting firmly on the ground. No matter how the engine roared, the tires just spun in place, splattering mud everywhere.

Beside the car, a figure wearing a khaki photography vest, cargo pants, and a high ponytail was vigorously swinging a shovel, trying to dig out the silt around the tires.

Judging by the silhouette, it was actually a woman.

Hearing the approaching engine, the figure stopped her movements and turned back warily.

By the light of his headlights, Jiang Yuan saw her face clearly.

It was a typical Eastern face. Her skin had been tanned to a healthy wheat color due to long-term outdoor work. She had a high bridge to her nose and eyes that were resolute and bright, lacking the delicate air of a city dweller and instead possessing the resilience of wild grass.

Her face and arms were covered in mud, making her look a bit disheveled, but her back remained ramrod straight.

Jiang Yuan parked his car on solid ground and rolled down the window.

“Need some help?” he asked in standard Mandarin.

The woman was clearly taken aback. Hearing her native tongue in the middle of the uninhabited East African savanna caused a flash of surprise to cross her eyes.

She put down the shovel and strode over, her voice clear and concise:

“Hello, I’m Lin Xia, a documentary Photographer. As you can see, I underestimated the power of this rain and got stuck.”

She didn’t cry or plead for help, nor did she show excessive joy; she simply stated the facts objectively. This calmness and courage earned Jiang Yuan’s appreciation.

“I’m Jiang Yuan, just a passing tourist.”

Jiang Yuan pushed the door open and got out. The moment his black Nano-Combat Suit came into contact with the outside air, it automatically adjusted the micro-climate based on the ambient temperature, so it didn’t look bulky like a normal windbreaker.

He walked over to Lin Xia’s car to take a look.

“It’s stuck deep, and the chassis is hung up. You won’t be able to dig it out,” Jiang Yuan judged.

Lin Xia frowned and wiped a smudge of sweaty mud from her forehead: “I have a winch, but there are no large trees nearby to use for leverage. I was planning to dig a hole and bury a spare tire as an anchor point, but that takes time, and...”

She glanced at the darkening savanna around them; the hair-raising cries of hyenas could already be heard in the distance.

“And it’s getting dark; it’s not safe here.”

“True.” Jiang Yuan nodded. “So, let’s use the simplest method.”

He turned back to the rear of his car, pulled out an extremely thick tow rope, and skillfully hooked it onto the tow hook of Lin Xia’s old Defender.

“Get in, put it in neutral, and keep the steering straight,” Jiang Yuan told her.

Lin Xia was a bit hesitant: “Will your car... be okay? The mud here has a lot of suction. Pulling hard might drag your car in too, or snap the frame.”

She looked at Jiang Yuan’s vehicle, which, though brand new, didn’t look like a heavy-duty off-roader, and felt some concern.