This was an old dhole with much of its fur fallen out, its whole body a reddish-brown, a pair of pointed ears standing tall, blood-red tongue lolling, and its fierce canine eyes fixed intently on Baby Duke's back.

The dhole, a member of the Carnivora order, Canidae family, Cuon genus, is the most powerful canid species alive today. It inhabits a wide range of environments, from coniferous forests to tropical rainforests in hilly and mountainous regions, and is distributed throughout China from the northeast to the southwest.

Dholes are social animals, often forming small packs of 3 to 5 or large groups of 10 to 20 that roam together. Their hearing and sense of smell are extremely acute, and they move quickly and stealthily, fleeing at the slightest sign of trouble. Dholes hunt in groups, mainly preying on hoofed animals such as deer, muntjac, musk deer, and goats, and sometimes even attack water buffalo. By nature, they are ferocious, and all animals, big or small, fear them upon encounter.

This was an old dhole that had been driven out by its pack. Though aged, its ferocity had not diminished in the slightest; instead, under the threat of survival, it had only grown more intense.

Baby Duke turned his head, and in that instant, the dhole lunged at him with a roar.

"Run!" Edward Baldwin rushed forward, shielding Baby Duke behind him, and raised his military knife with both hands to stab at the charging dhole.

"Thud!"

"Awooo!..."

A long, mournful howl came from the dhole's mouth as the mottled chest was pierced straight through by the knife, a spurt of fresh blood bursting out. It stretched out its two front paws, unwillingly clawing at Edward Baldwin's cheek.

With a "shhk" sound, several deep gashes appeared on Edward Baldwin's face, bright red blood gushing out, streaming down his neck and soaking half his clothes.

Still gripping the bloodstained knife tightly, Edward Baldwin's eyes were opened as wide as possible, his legs trembling uncontrollably, but his small hands remained exceptionally steady.

"Awoo..."

The dhole let out another mournful howl, blood-tinged foam flowing from its open mouth. Its fierce eyes were filled with unwillingness, yet it was powerless, seeing its prey so close but unable to advance even half a step.

This dhole had forgotten the golden rule of hunting. In its eyes, these two children had no sharp claws or fangs, nor any ability to fight back, weaker and softer than a rabbit. So it attacked, abandoning the golden rule of hunting for the right to survive.

Unfortunately, the consequence of breaking the rule was being counterattacked by the weak prey and stabbed in the heart, dying with a howl full of unwillingness.

"Beat it to death! Beat it to death!" Snapping back to his senses, Baby Duke pinned the dhole's corpse to the ground, punching and kicking it furiously.

Still holding the bloodstained knife, Edward Baldwin felt a sharp pain on his face. He reached out a trembling hand to touch his cheek and found several long, bloody gashes, the hot blood streaming out.

"D-d-Baby Duke..." Covered in blood, Edward Baldwin struggled to say to Baby Duke, "Let's g-go..."

"I'm not leaving!" Baby Duke turned to glare at Edward Baldwin's torn right cheek, raised the blood-soaked knife, and shouted, "I'm going to kill them all, not a single one left!"

"Baby Duke, let's go." Tears filled Edward Baldwin's eyes as he sobbed, "It hurts..."

Edward Baldwin himself didn't even know how he had killed the dhole. Only after snapping out of his fear did he feel the piercing pain, so intense that he burst into tears.

"Crybaby! Coward!" Baby Duke stood up and, without warning, kicked Edward Baldwin, shouting angrily, "Let's go, let's go, hmph!"

With that, Baby Duke stomped off in a huff.

Edward Baldwin hurried to follow Baby Duke, the searing pain on his face making him cry out loud as he walked.

"Hold my hand." Baby Duke reached out from ahead, scolding in great displeasure, "No crying. You're a boy, you can't cry."

Chastised, Edward Baldwin immediately stopped crying, though tears still streamed down his face.

"Baby Duke, wuwu... you're going the wrong way, we should go that way, wuwu..."

"Hmph!" Baby Duke snorted heavily, then asked, "Edward Baldwin, does it still hurt?"

"It hurts." Edward Baldwin answered honestly.

"Coward, crybaby, you're a boy, how can you say it hurts?" Baby Duke glared fiercely at Edward Baldwin again.

Edward Baldwin quickly shook his head, indicating that it didn't hurt.

"Good, as long as it doesn't hurt." Baby Duke walked two steps ahead, tore off two leaves, chewed them a couple of times, spat them into his palm, and turned around, saying, "Edward Baldwin, bring your face over."

Edward Baldwin obediently leaned his face over.

Baby Duke applied the not-so-thoroughly-chewed leaves to Edward Baldwin's face, turned his little head, and continued walking forward, holding the other's hand.

With the leaves applied, Edward Baldwin felt a cool sensation on his wound, and the pain seemed to ease a lot. He couldn't help but ask, "Baby Duke, what did you put on me?"

"Leaves!" Baby Duke rubbed his little nose, looked around, and said, "That's how they do it on TV—when you're hurt, you just put leaves on it and it's fine... Edward Baldwin, where is this? It doesn't look like the way we came."

Edward Baldwin looked up, then confidently pointed to the left, "Baby Duke, you went the wrong way, it's this way."

"Really?" Baby Duke asked doubtfully, "I remember it was this way."