Reborn in 80: Starting with hunting in the mountains to get rich

Old Qin tried his best, but he couldn't climb up the high branch to get the raccoon hat down.

The tree was slippery, with many thin branches. Only a nimble raccoon could easily leap up it. If an adult man tried to climb the tree with great effort, he would probably break a branch and fall from a great height, breaking his thigh bone, before he could even take off his raccoon hat.

Qin Pao did some mental calculations and decided that he had no choice but to give up the raccoon fur hat and replace it with other furs. He walked back to the big tree 300 meters away to look for the jumping cat in the cloth bag, thinking that if he skinned the jumping cat, it could be used as a hat, which was better than having his ears frozen in the freezing cold of minus 40 degrees Celsius. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and he almost glared at the tree where he had left the cloth bag.

He looked again, then paused, stunned. A cloth bag?

The cloth bag that he had placed under the big tree is nowhere to be found now.

He turned his head again and saw that the head dog's corpse, whose neck had been bitten off, was gone. He followed the blood trail for a few more steps and found wolf paw prints and a cloth bag that had been dragged away. The jumping cat in the cloth bag had been taken away.

There are wolves nearby!

Qin Pao calmly and collectedly loaded the ammunition, his piercing eyes fixed on all directions, his peripheral vision glancing at the wolf paw prints in the snow.

He thought to himself: Oh no!

Ahead of them were the cunning mountain weasels, and behind them followed a pack of wolves. Judging from the paw prints scattered on the ground, there was at least one pack of wolves, following them at a distance. Based on his experience, the wolves were likely starving in the freezing cold and had set their sights on the pack of hunting dogs. But the dogs all huddled together and rushed out to chase the weasels, leaving him, four hunting dogs, and a gray wolf cub behind.

Qin Pao was furious because he had no raccoon hat on his head, and was all alone except for his gun and four dogs.

He had been in the mountains for decades and had never suffered such humiliation. Today, he was completely outmaneuvered by a mountain weasel. How could he swallow this insult?

Danger was creeping closer. On the left, a grown male wolf nimbly trudged through the snow, using the trees as cover, and slowly approached the four pack dogs.

Two adult male wolves on the right also quietly approached, their green eyes fixed on the four dogs, occasionally glancing at the hunter and sniffing the gunpowder scent that made them wary.

The three male wolves formed a pincer movement, but none of them made the first move, as if they were quietly waiting for something.

On the right side of the roe deer herd, Qin Paotou, using the trees as cover, raised his gun and slowly approached.

He knew that wild animals were hungry in extreme weather, but even more wary. As was his custom, he would thoroughly heat his rifle with a straw fire before going hunting. But now, the rifle, having been fired, emitted a stronger smell of gunpowder, making the wolves both wary and hostile.

Suddenly, Qin Pao was the first to attack. He raised his semi-automatic rifle, aimed at the rightmost wolf's head, and pulled the trigger.

The shotgun made only a click when the trigger was pulled; there was no explosive sound.

As Qin Pao hurriedly loaded his ammunition, the three male wolves became enraged. They simultaneously opened their foul-smelling mouths and pounced on Qin Pao.

He quickly struck the snow with his stick, grabbed the dagger from his waist, and engaged the male wolf in hand-to-hand combat.

The reputation of the "King of the Loops of Changbai Mountain" is well-deserved. As a close-quarters knife hunter, he possesses exceptional mental fortitude, stabbing the male wolf under the armpit with his knife.

Good dogs protect their master. Seeing their master in trouble, the four hounds lunged at the groin of the other two male wolves. The hounds weren't large, but their numbers made up for it. The four hounds held down the wolves' hind legs, ready to strike at their anus when the opportunity arose.

Qin Pao's favorite hunting dog was Da Bai. Da Bai was pure white, blending perfectly with the snow in the snowy weather. Now, Da Bai was the most vicious, biting and grabbing the male wolf's anus, then kicking off the ground with all four limbs, tilting its neck back and violently dragging him backward.

The male wolf howled in pain, its teeth bared in a fierce and menacing manner. Two male wolves crouched down on the snow to protect their anuses, engaging the four pack dogs in a fierce battle. Soon, the pack dogs were wounded, but even though they were covered in blood, they didn't let go.

Big White clung tightly to the male wolf's anus, and another male wolf bit the back of its neck, snapping its neck with a "crack." Even so, Big White's mouth remained on the male wolf's body, and it did not let go even in death.

Old Qin, the gunner, was locked in combat with the wolf when he turned around and discovered that his beloved Big White was no longer alive, its corpse still hanging behind the male wolf, being torn apart. He was filled with anxiety and rage, his eyes bloodshot, his blood rushing to his head, his adrenaline surging, his blood boiling. With a roar, he grabbed his semi-automatic shotgun.

In that brief moment of distraction, his right arm was viciously bitten off by the male wolf that was fighting in front of him.

A gunshot rang out.

boom!

The male wolf, shot in the abdomen, let out a mournful howl and turned to run away.

The three male wolves turned and ran in unison, disappearing into the forest in a few leaps.

Qin Pao was wrapped in a sheepskin coat, but his right arm had been ripped open by a wolf, revealing a bloody, mangled arm. He hadn't felt the pain at first, but now he belatedly felt a burning pain all over his right arm. Thank goodness for the sheepskin coat; otherwise, with a bite force of 184 kilograms, the wolf could have easily severed his arm in one bite.

The thought of almost losing his arm alone in the snowy forest filled him with lingering fear.

He knew wolves all too well; they were masters of patience and relentless pursuit. Now, he was injured, the wolves were wounded, and he didn't even know how many wolves there were. If he didn't quickly find his pack and rejoin them, he feared he wouldn't survive the night. He'd be relentlessly pursued by the wolves, and once they exhausted him, they'd surround and hunt him down.

We must find someone! To rejoin the main force.

Qin Pao gritted his teeth and tore open his inner garment, tearing open the bloody flesh of his wounded right arm. Then, stepping on the snow, which was uneven, he painfully picked up the hunting dog, Da Bai, whose throat had been bitten off and which was still stubbornly refusing to let go.

With tears in his eyes, he peeled off the white wolf's fur, wrapping it around his cold forehead and ears, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. The wolves' revenge must be taken!