In the dense woods, the air was filled with the pungent scent of blood. SLASH. SLASH. The sound of flesh being cut open echoed continuously.
Breathing heavily, Gao Zhiming raised the blood-dripping dagger, gritting his teeth as he stabbed forward. The already-cold blood splattered onto his youthful face.
He was very tired now. The high-intensity practice of wielding the knife made his arms ache terribly.
But after glancing at Anna beside him, Gao Zhiming didn't complain. He just continued stabbing the calf hanging from a tree branch in front of him.
This was no easy task. The cowhide was tough, and the dead meat was extremely stiff. Combined with the resilient sinew, each stab required Gao Zhiming to exert all his strength.
"Don't use brute force. Try to slip the blade between two muscle groups. Remember the feeling of the blade slicing through flesh—you must get used to it quickly."
"Fools who just let you cut their necks, like those punks from before, are rare."
