Shaun didn't have the strength to stop the creature's bite, barely managing to push its upper jaw up with the pole just enough to keep it from tearing a huge chunk of flesh from his body. The beast's top row of teeth sank deep into the rock wall behind him, but its bottom row had lodged into his left shoulder, pinning him there like some grotesque trophy. They were locked in a gruesome stalemate—the creature unable to pull its teeth out, and Shaun stuck, feeling more like a piece of meat than a man fighting for his life.
His arms trembled, nearly spent as the venom from the reptile's bite seeped deeper into his flesh. The toxin spread like wildfire from his shoulder to his left hand and leg, numbing his entire left side with a cold, creeping paralysis. The creature, slanted forward in its attempt to devour him, struggled to bend its body enough to finish him off. Its shorter forelimbs clawed desperately at the air, trying to rip into his flesh.
Shaun knew he had only seconds left before the toxin completely took hold. His vision blurred, and he felt his body growing heavier, his movements sluggish. Desperation kicked in, spurred by the stubborn resilience that had kept him alive so far. He grabbed his knife and, with a grimace, stabbed it deep into his right thigh. The sharp pain exploded through his nerves, triggering a surge of adrenaline that temporarily flushed his system of the toxin's effects. But the pain was blinding, white-hot flashes filling his vision, threatening to knock him unconscious.
He forced himself to focus, his sharp mind searching for a way out. His gaze dropped to the creature's legs, noticing how they stood precariously on a loose pile of gravel. An idea—reckless and desperate—sparked in his mind. With a shaky breath, Shaun lifted his left hand, now barely more than dead weight, and activated the Wrap Trap on the wall, binding the creature's upper jaw. He pressed the staff against the beast's upper jaw and, with every ounce of strength he had left, pried its lower jaw open.
Then, in a move born from sheer determination, he lifted both legs off the ground, letting his full weight hang from the creature's teeth. The flesh in his shoulder tore painfully, the sound muffled by Shaun's gritted teeth as he stifled a scream. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he kicked out at the reptile's legs, sending it slipping on the unstable ground beneath it.
The sudden loss of balance caused the creature to lurch forward, now awkwardly propped up only by its upper teeth, which were still lodged in the rock wall. With a pained grunt, Shaun slid free from its lower jaw, collapsing to the ground with a sickening trail of blood running from his torn shoulder.
But he couldn't afford to rest. The creature scrambled, trying to regain its footing and pull itself away from the wall. Shaun forced himself up, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side, the shoulder punctured with six deep holes that went all the way to the bone. Gritting his teeth, he set Wrap Traps near each of the creature's legs, hoping to prevent it from regaining its leverage.
His body screamed in protest, his vision swimming from the blood loss and pain, but he had to finish this. With his right hand, Shaun grabbed one end of the staff and dragged it up, his determination burning through the agony.
"Wanna eat something?" Shaun muttered, his voice low and filled with defiance. "Eat this."
With every ounce of strength left in him, he swung the staff down onto the back of the creature's skull. The impact reverberated through his arms, but it wasn't enough. He braced himself, drawing from the anger and frustration that had been building inside him since this nightmare began, and swung again. And again.
Each strike drove the creature's lower and upper jaws further apart, smashing them against the rock wall. The reptile released howls of pain, its cries echoing through the jungle, but Shaun didn't stop. Not when its jaw ligaments tore, not when its teeth shattered against the rock. The Wrap Traps dissolved under the pressure, and still, Shaun kept swinging, even as the creature's jaw dislocated with a sickening pop.
But this wasn't just about killing the beast. This was about everything Shaun had been forced to endure—the pain, the fear, the relentless struggle to survive in a world that seemed determined to break him. Every blow was an outlet for the rage he'd kept buried, for the frustration of being torn from his old life and thrust into this savage new one.
He didn't stop until the creature's body went limp, its head reduced to pulp. And even then, his arm continued to twitch, the staff slipping from his bloodied hands only when he physically couldn't lift it anymore.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Panda had been searching for hours, a sense of unease gnawing at it. The jungle was littered with signs of battle—broken branches, splatters of blood—but no sign of Shaun. The rabbit's instincts told it that a particularly dangerous predator had been hunting nearby.
"Why am I even worrying about that idiot?" Panda thought, trying to convince itself to leave. "I could just go back to my life."
But despite itself, Panda found its way back to the hill, hoping against hope that Shaun had somehow made it back.
When it reached the top, its jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
In front of it, three reptilian bodies were stacked together, their blood still pooling on the ground. And next to them, half of a massive boar beast lay in pieces.
Any one of these creatures would have been a nightmare for Panda to face alone. Yet here they were, dead and piled together like trophies.
There was only part of the boar beast left—Shaun had cut off the rotting sections and divided the usable meat to bring it up piece by piece.
Suddenly, something dropped in front of Panda. It was Shaun, but he looked more grotesque than usual, his body a patchwork of blood and wounds.
It was only the 16th hour of the day, but Shaun was already reduced to this state. He had tied his left arm tightly after doing a rough stitch on his wounds, using the reptile's toxin to paralyze his left arm into a grip. The pain was excruciating every time he strained it, but it was the only way he could keep his grip for the climb up.
He'd already made two trips, hauling ropes down with him to divide the spoils into seven sections, each tied to a length of rope so he could pull up three loads at a time.
Four of those loads were just parts of the boar beast, its size too massive to be lifted in one piece. Without a second glance, Panda hopped into Shaun's backpack. Shaun didn't even notice; his entire focus was on staying conscious.
With grim determination, Shaun began pulling the loads up. As each one reached the top, another would begin its ascent, the system he'd rigged ensuring that he could maximize his efforts without wasting time.
Shaun didn't let himself rest, knowing full well that he had survived today by sheer luck. If the reptiles had taken him seriously from the start, attacking all at once instead of toying with him, he wouldn't have stood a chance. And if the leader hadn't been so arrogant, it wouldn't have made the fatal mistake that allowed Shaun to win.
He knew he was weak—painfully, frustratingly weak. Though he had shown a glimpse of the brutality needed to survive in this world, he was acutely aware of how far he still had to go. But for now, he had survived, and that was enough