The thick, bone-white tusks curved upward. Its mud-stained bristles stood on end like steel needles. The Bullfango pawed at the ground, lowering its head to charge at Ethan.
Whether in the games or in these days of wilderness survival, Ethan knew well how fierce the Bullfango's charge was. Turning to run would only lead to its tusks goring him from behind. He had to calm down and carefully observe its movements to avoid injury.
Reaching for his waist, Ethan drew the bone knife. In his other hand, he held the self-made, simple Flash Bomb. He took a slight crouch, his whole body tense, watching the agitated Bullfango.
Perhaps Ethan's posture provoked it. The Bullfango stopped scraping the ground, engaged all four hooves, kicked up a trail of dust, and charged relentlessly towards Ethan.
Here it comes, the Pig-Cart!
Ethan stared intently at the Bullfango's distance. He waited until it was about a meter in front of him, the earthy, rank smell hitting his face. Only then did he swing his arm and abruptly lunge to the right, rolling once on the ground before quickly getting back up.
He didn't look up immediately. Instead, he saw the brief, intense flash on the ground and sensed the animal's momentary panic from its temporary blindness transmitted through its "heart-voice." He then gripped the bone knife and charged forward swiftly.
The distance between them had been closed by the Bullfango's charge. Ethan ran only two steps before he was right behind the monster.
His arm tensed. Mimicking the "Charged Double Slash" of a Charge Blade from memory, he delivered an upward cut, followed by a downward cleave, both landing squarely on the Bullfango's left hind leg joint.
Although he failed to land both cuts on the exact same wound, the damage inflicted on the Bullfango was substantial. The sharp pain in its hind leg made it instinctively try to turn around, but the injured leg couldn't bear the weight. It stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.
Ethan was not greedy for more hits. After two slices, he immediately back-hopped to assess the situation.
This good habit saved him. Although the Bullfango stumbled, it immediately steadied itself, shaking its head as it turned around, likely trying to use its tusks to obstruct any further attack from Ethan. If he had been greedy for another hit and continued to press the attack, he might have completely crippled that hind leg, but with no armor to protect him, he certainly would have been pierced by those bone-white tusks, leaving a bloody hole.
However, the Bullfango had clearly not recovered from the brief blindness caused by the flash. Although it had turned, it was merely shaking its head erratically, trying to rely on its tusks to ward off Ethan's subsequent attack.
Ethan bared his teeth, ran in a frantic circle, came up behind the Bullfango's rear again, and delivered another Charged Double Slash to the joint.
The two consecutive wounds completely unbalanced the Bullfango. It tipped over and fell to the ground, its four hooves kicking as it tried to right itself. Blood poured out of the hind leg wound with every struggle.
That one cut had severed an artery.
Seizing this opening, Ethan, quick as a flash, plunged the bone knife into the exposed throat of the Bullfango. Blood sprayed all over Ethan. He quickly pulled back, avoiding the monster's final death throes, breathing heavily. "Phew!"
The Bullfango's wails gradually weakened, and the confused thoughts transmitted from it slowly faded. Ethan pounded his chest, forcing himself to calm down.
"Hah… Soloing a Bullfango without weapons or armor. I live up to my name."
He regulated his breathing and stabbed the throat twice more. Ethan confirmed the creature was thoroughly dead, and the joy of surviving the encounter spontaneously welled up.
The clothes he wore when he transmigrated had long since become tattered rags. This Bullfango hide would absolutely be a godsend; even without stitching, wrapping it around himself for warmth would be excellent.
He painstakingly skinned the wild pig, looking at the large, ugly, butchered hide, along with a few shredded pieces. Ethan thought about taking out the bones as well, but the unique howling of a Great Jagras pack echoing faintly through the woods forced him to abandon the idea.
The smell of blood was too strong here. Staying any longer would be very dangerous.
…
Ethan had thought the Bullfango's corpse would be enough to satisfy the greedy Great Jagras pack, but now it seemed they had also targeted him, splashed as he was with pig blood.
Listening to the continuous howls behind him, and sensing several greedy, excited thoughts closing in, Ethan spat and increased his speed. "Ugh."
To eliminate his scent, he either needed to jump into the creek and wash himself thoroughly or use a specialized item like a Deodorant. However, the direction of the creek he had previously scouted was blocked by the Jagras pack and inaccessible, and he had no idea how to combine Bitterbugs and Scatterfish into a Deodorant. Ethan could only take out a Bitterbug, crush it, and rub the juice over the areas stained with pig blood.
The pungent bloody smell seemed slightly fainter, but it certainly wouldn't fool the monsters' keen noses. Ethan could only continue forward, hoping to encounter a water source large enough to wash in along the way.
The pursuit and escape lasted for about half an hour. Ethan stood at the edge of a cliff, looking at the roaring waterfall before him, his face grim.
Heavy footsteps gradually approached. Ethan looked back. A colossal beast, primarily white with red stripes and shaped like a Tyrannosaurus, stepped out of the forest shadows. Several small, orange young monsters bounded around it. Compared to the King, the Great Jagras, which was nearly nine meters long, the smaller Jagras, only a third of its length, were practically miniature.
However, even the miniature Jagras were over three meters long. Ethan, surrounded by them, looked like a small girl encircled by a group of burly hooligans—small, pitiful, and helpless.
Ethan couldn't help but take two steps back. His heel suddenly met empty air. He twisted his head to look, and several fragments of rock cracked from beneath his feet, rolling down and disappearing into the white torrent of the waterfall.
The Great Jagras King stepped forward calmly. Its massive silhouette blocked the sunlight, and the shadow it cast completely enveloped Ethan. Rank saliva drooled from its jowls, and the playful, cat-and-mouse mockery in its eyes was clearly transmitted to Ethan through his special perception.
The bone he'd scavenged and used as a weapon was only forearm-length. In front of this creature, it seemed utterly thin and powerless.
"Damn it, I'm going to carve you up for this, you bastard!"
Ethan took a deep breath, flipped the monster the middle finger, and, without hesitation, jumped off the cliff.
'There's no fall damage in the Monster Hunter world, Geralt wouldn't even die from a drop like this…'
That was Ethan's last thought before his consciousness faded. Immediately following, the thundering sound of the water swallowed him.
…
The Stream area was rich in water. The waterfall cascading from the Sacred Pinnacle surged through the mountains, transforming into countless rivers that branched out and eventually flowed eastward into the sea.
However, a significant portion of this water was intercepted by low-lying valleys, forming swamps, wetlands, and lakes.
By the side of one such lake, the calm water reflected the lush greenery on the shore until ripples broke the reflection. A thick hind leg covered in blue-green fur waded in.
Looking up, a large Arzuros—a Blue Bear—with foreclaws covered in yellowish-brown carapace, glared with its bear eyes, continuously scanning the water, trying to find some plump, fresh Sushiphish.
Suddenly, the Arzuros tilted its head. It looked with slight confusion at a figure drifting slowly towards the shore on the water's surface.
"Hoo?"