Chapter 10: The Range Trap
Time: 5 Days after the Pest Crisis.
Location: The Outer Perimeter of Cloud Forest.
The Cloud Forest was a place of suffocating silence and sudden violence. Massive trees, their bark covered in wet, slippery moss, blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving the forest floor in a perpetual twilight.
Luo Feng moved through the undergrowth, his boots sinking slightly into the damp leaf litter.
He didn't move like a scared scavenger anymore. He moved like a predator.
Qi Refining Layer 4.
The power coursed through his veins, warm and constant. His senses, sharpened by the Sun & Moon Refining Technique, picked up everything: the scuttle of a beetle under a rock, the distant cry of a hawk, the smell of ozone and pine.
He touched the hilt of his Spirit Iron Saber. It felt light.
Before leaving his shack that morning, Luo Feng had made a calculated decision. He had looked at the heavy ceramic jar of "Blood-Clotting Wine" and the pouches of dried meat and water skins.
'Why carry the weight?' he had thought, leaving them on the black soil of his Farm. 'If I need them, I'll just open the Space and grab them. It takes a split second. My Space is the ultimate storage bag.'
So, he walked into the wilderness empty-handed. He felt liberated. He felt superior to the other rogue cultivators lugging heavy backpacks.
He was about to learn a very painful lesson.
The Hunter becomes the Hunted.
Luo Feng stopped near a clearing filled with waist-high ferns. A strange scent hung in the air—sharp, metallic, and coppery.
Blood.
He crouched low. Through the gaps in the ferns, he saw it.
A Wind Wolf.
It was crouched over the carcass of a deer, tearing at the flesh. The beast was massive, the size of a small pony. Its fur was a sleek, oily gray that seemed to blur even when it was standing still. Mana swirled around its paws like green dust.
[System Scan]
[Target: Wind Wolf.]
[Rank: 1 Low Tier (Peak).]
[Threat Level: Moderate.]
[Note: High Agility. Capable of ranged Wind Blade attacks.]
"Rank 1 Peak..." Luo Feng whispered, his eyes narrowing. "That's equivalent to a human at Layer 4 or 5. A perfect test subject."
He didn't sneak away. He wanted to know if his Iron Body was real, or just a cosmetic effect.
Luo Feng stepped into the clearing and whistled.
The Wolf's head snapped up. Blood dripped from its muzzle. Its green eyes locked onto Luo Feng. It didn't growl; it didn't hesitate.
BOOM.
It kicked off the ground with explosive force. Mud sprayed backward as the beast launched itself at him.
It was fast. Terrifyingly fast.
It crossed the twenty meters in a single heartbeat, becoming a gray blur aimed straight at Luo Feng's throat.
Luo Feng's pupils constricted. 'Faster than I thought!'
He didn't have time to draw his saber. He instinctively raised his left forearm to block the bite.
CRUNCH.
The wolf's jaws clamped down on his arm. Its fangs, designed to puncture deer hide and crush bone, ground against Luo Feng's skin.
Luo Feng braced for the pain. He braced for the sound of snapping bone.
Instead, a sound rang out like a hammer hitting an anvil.
CLANG!
Luo Feng's skin turned a dark, matte gray color at the point of impact. The Iron Body membrane hardened instantly upon contact. The wolf's teeth skidded off his skin, unable to pierce the flesh.
The wolf's eyes widened in confusion. It bit down harder, its jaw muscles bulging, but it was like biting a steel pipe.
"Get off!" Luo Feng roared.
He channeled Qi into his arm and flexed. The shockwave blasted the wolf backward.
The beast landed on its feet, sliding through the mud, shaking its head. It spat out a chipped tooth.
"My turn," Luo Feng grinned, the thrill of battle surging through him. "You can't bite me. Now let's see if you can bleed."
"Heavy Plow Saber!"
Luo Feng drew his weapon in a smooth arc. He charged.
He swung the blade down with the weight of a mountain. It was a farming technique adapted for war—crude, simple, but devastatingly heavy.
The Wolf snarled. It didn't try to block. It dissolved into the wind.
Whoosh.
Luo Feng's saber smashed into the ground, carving a deep trench in the mud. He had missed.
Slash!
A stinging pain flared on his thigh.
The wolf had circled behind him in the split second he swung. Its claws raked across his leg.
Luo Feng stumbled, spinning around. His pants were torn, and three shallow white marks were etched onto his skin. The Iron Body had protected him from being disemboweled, but the force still bruised him.
"You're fast," Luo Feng spat, resetting his stance. "But you have to come close to hit me."
The Wolf seemed to understand. It sneered—a disturbing, human-like expression. It backed away to a distance of ten meters.
It opened its jaws. Green light gathered in its throat. The air in the clearing began to vibrate.
'Ranged attack!' Luo Feng realized. 'Dodge!'
PEW! PEW!
Two crescent-shaped blades of compressed wind shot out of the wolf's mouth. They spun like buzzsaws, shredding the ferns in their path.
Luo Feng threw himself to the right.
The first blade missed him by an inch, slicing a thick oak tree behind him cleanly in half.
The second blade curved.
Luo Feng couldn't dodge. He raised his saber to deflect it, but the angle was wrong. The Wind Blade clipped his ribs.
RIP.
The sound was sickening.
The Wind Blade was concentrated elemental magic. It was sharper than steel. It sliced through his gray robe, cut through the Iron Body defense, and bit deep into his flesh.
Blood sprayed into the air.
"ARGH!"
Luo Feng tumbled into the mud, clutching his side. A three-inch gash had opened up on his ribs. It wasn't fatal, but it was deep. Hot blood poured out, soaking his fingers instantly.
The Wolf howled in triumph. It smelled the iron scent of human blood. It lowered its body, preparing for the finishing lunge.
Luo Feng gasped for air, the pain clearing his mind instantly. The arrogance of the "Iron Body" evaporated.
"Fine," Luo Feng hissed, his eyes turning cold. "You want to trade lives? Let's trade."
He dropped his saber.
The Wolf saw the weapon fall and lunged. It aimed for the throat again, confident the human was defenseless.
Luo Feng watched the gray blur coming closer. He didn't move. He channeled every drop of his remaining Qi into his right hand.
'Wait for it... Wait...'
The wolf was in the air. Five feet away. Three feet. Two feet.
Luo Feng thrust his hand forward like a spear.
Technique: Spirit Finger.
He didn't shoot a projectile. He drove his physical fingers, wrapped in a drill of spiraling Sun & Moon Qi, straight into the wolf's open mouth.
SQUELCH.
His hand pierced the soft palate at the roof of the mouth, drove upward, and punched into the brain.
The wolf's momentum slammed into Luo Feng, knocking him flat on his back. The beast convulsed once, thrashing violently, and then went limp. Dead weight.
The Trap.
Luo Feng lay in the mud, trapped under the heavy, wet fur of the dead wolf.
He shoved the carcass off with a groan. He sat up, leaning against a tree.
His chest was heaving. His side was burning like it was on fire. The bleeding hadn't stopped; the movement had made it worse.
"Careless," Luo Feng coughed, tasting copper. "I underestimated the piercing power of magic."
He pressed his hand hard against the wound, his fingers slick with red.
"Need to stop the bleeding," he muttered. "System."
He visualized the jar of Blood-Clotting Wine sitting safely in the Farming Space. He reached out his bloody hand, expecting the familiar ripple of space to deliver his medicine.
"Retrieve Wine."
...
Nothing happened.
The forest remained silent. The wind rustled the leaves.
Luo Feng frowned, pain making him dizzy. "System! Open Space! Retrieve Medicine!"
Buzz.
A cold, mechanical red box appeared in his vision, hovering over the bloody mud.
[SYSTEM ERROR.]
[Connection Failed.]
[Reason: Out of Range.]
[Current Distance to Anchor Point (Bedroom): 8.5 Kilometers.]
[Required Distance: 5 Meters.]
Luo Feng stared at the text.
Time seemed to stop.
He looked at his empty hand. He looked at his waist pouch—empty. He looked at his sleeves—empty.
"No..." he whispered, his voice cracking.
He had bandages. He had healing wine. He had clean water. He had everything he needed to save himself.
But it was locked in a vault, and he was 8 kilometers away from the key.
Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in his chest.
"I can't open it," Luo Feng realized, looking at the gash in his ribs. "I'm cut off."
He had treated his cheat like a crutch. He thought he was a player with an inventory. But the System wasn't an inventory. It was a Location. And he wasn't there.
"I'm bleeding out," he said to the empty forest. "And I have nothing."
The Primitive Reality.
He couldn't stay. The smell of blood was already drifting on the wind. Other predators would come.
Luo Feng gritted his teeth. He grabbed the hem of his ruined gray robe.
RIIIP.
He tore a long, dirty strip of cloth. It wasn't sterile. It was covered in mud and wolf blood. But he had no choice.
He wrapped it around his chest.
Pull.
"GhhAAAA!"
Luo Feng screamed through gritted teeth as he tightened the knot directly over the open wound. The world spun. Black spots danced in his vision.
The bleeding slowed to a ooze. It held.
He slumped back against the tree, exhausted. He looked at the dead Wind Wolf.
It was a Rank 1 beast. The hide, the claws, the meat—it was worth 20 Spirit Stones. A fortune for him.
If the System worked, he could store it instantly.
Now?
"If I want the money," Luo Feng rasped, struggling to stand up, "I have to carry it."
He grabbed the wolf's hind legs. He hoisted the 100-pound carcass onto his uninjured shoulder. The weight pressed him down, making his knees buckle.
He took a step. Pain shot through his side.
He took another step.
He began the long, agonizing walk back to the city.
There were no shortcuts. No magic portals. Just a man, a dead wolf, and a trail of blood drops marking his path through the unforgiving forest.
The lesson was burned into his mind deeper than the wound on his ribs: The Space is a Sanctuary. The World is a Slaughterhouse. Never confuse the two.