Chapter 189: Giant Beast: Grizzly Bear (Request Updates, Follow, Send Power)

On the third day, before dawn, Qin Yun set out.

Over these two days, he traveled day and night without pause, devoting almost all his time to movement except for brief rest periods.

In two days, he was about to cover a distance of over 70 kilometers.

He pulled out his locator and glanced at it, then suddenly froze— the light dot on the locator had moved.

His expression changed; he brought the locator close to the camera lens.

"Bad luck— my key got eaten by a wild beast, but this beast hasn't moved far. Hopefully it's not some animal with a huge range. What I fear most is being eaten by the bald eagles or ravens here— then there'd be nothing I could do."

With that, he continued forward.

As he drew closer to the locator's position, the surrounding environment began to change dramatically. Rivers branched into numerous ice gullies, ice fissures, and shallow flats, all buried under thick snow, littered with mud, sand, and rotting leaves.

Stretching into the distance, endless rolling coniferous forests rose and fell in unbroken waves.

"This must be the He Kou region of Lin Hu. Look."

The drone flew out, circling the area and capturing the entire terrain. Compared to the faint signs of life still present in the forest, this river mouth had none— only frozen, rigid dead branches and tree roots.

The closer he got to the river mouth, the more tilted trees he saw, with tangled, raised root systems and low shrubs hugging the ground.

The locator's position was still over two kilometers away, deeper into the terrain.

Qin Yun had no time to waste. He crossed this lifeless black-and-white world and plunged in— walking for half an hour.

When he removed his snowboards, crouched on a raised patch of ground, and stared at a cave not far ahead, his expression turned Grave.

The drone lay beside him, not airborne, its lens fixed on the cave entrance.

Outside the cave, a colossal beast sat slumped on the ground, its body as massive as a small hill. Its fur, a deep brown streaked with silver-gray, was thick and disheveled.

Its head was broad, its snout long and thick, its face sunken, with small eyes hidden deep within— it was unmistakably a grizzly bear that had awoken prematurely.

Judging by its physique, it had clearly entered hibernation in peak condition, still appearing heavily built. Its shoulders and back rose in towering muscle ridges; its limbs were short and thick, radiating immense power. Merely sitting there, it exuded a terrifying pressure.

Qin Yun swallowed hard, lowering his voice: "Fuck— did I get lucky? A grizzly ate my key?"

In the Douyin livestream, viewers erupted.

"Qin Ye's wilderness survival is over— terrible luck."

"Damn, grizzly bear? Even tigers would avoid this."

"Scared the hell out of me— Qin Ye, run! Your life matters!"

"Terrible luck, but maybe we can wait for this bear to defecate? Maybe it'll poop out the key? Then Qin Ye can search for the key in shit."

"Fucking search for the key in shit?"

On TikTok, everyone who saw this was stunned.

"Jesus, that's terrifying."

"What will Qin do? Give up?"

"I came here for Qin— to end the wilderness survival like this? Too bad."

"What else can he do? Charge the grizzly and die?"

Production team, camp.

George's face was grim; he glanced subtly at Daniel. Daniel, as if sensing it, turned his head— his expression blank.

George sighed. Up to this point, Qin Yun's failure was not due to incompetence— but it was a disgrace to the show.

Nasty politics!

Daniel was also helpless, but to him, one person's success or failure wasn't worth risking— so he complied.

On the main screen, Qin Yun's livestream #32 remained isolated. All crew members at the camp were watching. Backend data showed nearly ninety percent of viewers had switched from other streams to #32.

Everyone waited for Qin Yun's decision.

Qin Yun pulled his head back, frowned at the camera, hesitating.

But his hesitation wasn't about the viewers' opinions— it was whether to attack.

If the livestream audience knew his thought, they'd think he was insane. Look at the grizzly in the frame— its size was enormous, surely over four hundred jin, standing over 2.7 meters tall— to humans, it was a giant beast.

At close range, even with Zhenli in hand, he'd likely be crushed.

Such a terrifying giant— Qin Yun actually wanted to attack? What else could this be but madness?

Yet Qin Yun's idea wasn't baseless— he had a real, feasible plan.

Hand-to-hand combat was impossible. He was human, not a superhero. No matter how much his strength increased, it could never surpass the grizzly's— that was a species limit, dictated by genes.

But he was also a legendary wilderness hunter with master-level archery skills. Combined, they might still have a chance.

The only question: could his bow and arrow pierce this grizzly's defenses? If the arrows couldn't even break the skin, what was the point? Just end the wilderness survival now.

But based on his estimate, his hunting bow was still powerful enough. Though the grizzly had thick hide and tough flesh, it wasn't impossible to penetrate.

"Friends," Qin Yun made his decision, leaned forward again, and stared at the grizzly at the cave entrance, "If I just give up now, I can't accept it. So I'm going to challenge this grizzly."

"Win, I take the key and search for the treasure chest; lose, I retreat into the forest and press the rescue button— ending this wilderness journey."

At his words, every viewer in the livestream froze.

"What the fuck— did I hear that right?"

"Is Qin Ye going all out? Going to kill this grizzly?"

"Holy shit, Qin Ye, your life matters!"

"That bear's arm is thicker than your waist— what the hell are you going to fight with?"

"It's over— Qin Ye's lost his mind."

Overseas, hearing Qin Yun say this, viewers were equally stunned.

Compared to domestic netizens, who rarely encounter wild animals, foreigners are more familiar with them. Many had personally experienced the terror of lions, tigers, and bears— that icy, chilling presence, where merely standing before one demands immense courage, let alone attacking with a blade.

This was not an animal a single human could handle.

Purely as a solitary creature, humans don't even rank on the scale.

Fear is an instinct of living beings; giving up is not shameful, especially when facing an adult brown bear, so foreign netizens couldn't understand Qin Yun's decision.

"Are Chinese people's guts made of stone?"

"Terrifying Chinese—I'll be much more polite when I meet Chinese people in the future."

"Too brave, Jesus."

"Maybe Qin was just pretending, then ran away."

"Heh, guy above, go try 'pretending' yourself."

Qin Yun took a deep breath; facing such a massive creature at this distance was unacceptable—the arrow's lethal range had to be kept within fifteen meters, or else it would have zero penetration capability.

But fifteen meters was nearly instantaneous for a brown bear's speed.

To inflict damage, you had to get close; to get close was to invite death—it was utterly contradictory.

"The slope I'm on is about fifty meters from the brown bear—I need to lure it over."

After speaking, Qin Yun stood up immediately, restarted the drone's propellers, and it buzzed straight into the sky.

At the same time, the brown bear, leaning against the cave entrance, sensed the disturbance at once, lifting its head warily toward Qin Yun's direction.

The next second, it rose fully upright, its two-to-three-meter height towering like a mountain, fur bristling, radiating thick malice as it let out a terrifying roar.

"Roar—!"

Then, its four paws hit the ground, legs striding forward, its massive body exploding with unimaginable burst speed, charging toward him—faster than Bolt, impossible to believe such speed came from a giant bear.

Qin Yun's expression grave, eyes locked on the bear, showing no fear, yet he still felt the crushing pressure of the bear's charge.

The action camera was fixed tightly on the brown bear, the drone capturing the entire scene.

"Suicide."

Yamamoto Kazusuke, seeing this, sneered, anticipating the scene of Qin Yun being smashed to death by the bear.

The other contestants each wore expressions of varied emotion—some worried, others gleeful.

Fifty meters was far for a human—five seconds to run—but for a brown bear, only three seconds.

Qin Yun nocked an arrow, his breath steady, aiming at the bear's neck.

"The brown bear's speed is around 55 km/h—I can't match it in a straight line," he remained calm as an old dog, "but this is a forest—it's both advantage and disadvantage for me."

By the time he finished speaking, the bear had closed to roughly fifteen meters—its enormous paw and terrifying face nearly within reach; everyone in the livestream held their breath, staring in stunned silence.

At this point, even calling for rescue would be useless.

Would the biggest surprise of this season's wilderness survival end in death?

At the production team's camp, all staff tensed up.

But at this moment, they had no way to help.

"Shh—!"

The arrow became a streak of lightning, slicing through the cold air, instantly appearing on the bear's neck.

"Pthsh!"

The brown bear immediately felt the sting on its neck—it grew even angrier, its furious roars mingling with the thunderous pounding of its footsteps, as if the forest were trembling.

Qin Yun fired one arrow, then turned and ran.

The thickest part of a brown bear is its shoulder and back, followed by the neck. Though the neck is a vital spot, its fat layer is also the thickest; Qin Yun aimed here precisely to see how much damage this arrow could inflict.

The result was clear: though the fat layer hadn't broken, the blood spurting out told him his plan wasn't futile.

But now, first priority was escape.

At this moment, the drone had climbed high above, closely following, framing the man and the bear together.

Qin Yun ran at great speed, unleashing his legendary-level wilderness hunter's skill—every footstep landed precisely on solid ground, providing sufficient recoil force; his speed surged instantly to its peak.

Even as he ran, he kept explaining.

"My bow's arrow set has nine arrows total—I've already fired one, eight remain."

"You all saw just now—at such close range, I still didn't inflict real damage. So every arrow must count, or it's wasted."

As he spoke, he'd already run over a hundred meters farther; behind him, the brown bear didn't dodge even small trees, charging straight through like a bulldozer.

But this inevitably slowed its speed, letting Qin Yun rest easy that he wouldn't be caught soon.

"Shh—!"

He kicked off a rock, leapt into the air, twisted his body mid-flight, nocked and drew the arrow, aiming straight for the bear's eye—movement seamless.

But the running grizzly wasn't a stationary target—he couldn't shoot where he pleased; the arrow veered off, grazing its scalp.

Qin Yun landed sideways, speed increasing again.

"Seven arrows left."

The violently shaking action camera lens intensified the tense, suffocating atmosphere—making viewers feel like they could barely breathe.

In Hangzhou, Su Huan had turned completely pale, her body utterly drained, staring blankly at her phone, eyes slightly red, helpless.

"Roar—!"

The brown bear, continuously provoked, had gone completely mad—the two-legged creature nearby had enraged it beyond reason; it would crush every bone, devour every scrap of flesh and bone whole.

Then return to its cave and sleep soundly.

In the livestream, everyone watched Qin Yun—but not a trace of fear showed on his face. At this moment, viewers from the other nine livestreams had nearly vanished—all had flooded into livestream #32.

Such a once-in-a-century scene, if missed, would be a terrible waste.

Whether Qin Yun was crushed to death or the bear gave up, this moment would be recorded in the annals of wilderness survival.