Chapter 190: Escaped

Brown bears are highly intelligent animals; according to research, their IQ is comparable to that of a four-year-old child or even higher.

Qin Yun took a breath and turned to look at the massive beast charging wildly in the distance, his expression utterly calm.

"Don't be fooled by its current frenzy—if you think it's lost its reason, you're terribly mistaken."

As he spoke, he fired another arrow—this time not at the beast's head, but at its throat. Yet the arrow struck only the thick flesh beside the throat, as the bear slightly shifted its neck.

The bear yanked out the arrow and tossed it aside. Thick fat glistened with blood, making it look disheveled—but in truth, it hadn't even broken the skin.

And the pain only made it more desperate to tear the two-legged creature ahead of it into pieces, as if it would never stop until it succeeded.

Damn, Qin Ye still has the energy to explain all this? Balls of steel.

"What a harmonious scene between man and nature."

"Haha, enough with the comments from upstairs."

To be honest, Qin Ye was reckless—if not for his constant arrows harassing it, he'd have been caught the moment his stamina ran out.

Qin Yun planted one foot on a protruding tree root, exerting and retracting force in one fluid motion, moving as lightly as a young deer. As he ran, he applied every martial arts technique he knew—every skill of generating and redirecting power—executed with flawless precision.

Moreover, his parkour skill was legendary; every terrain became instantly decomposable into viable pathways in his mind.

Even so, shaking off this bear was no easy task.

Of course, he never intended to escape it—if he had, he wouldn't have provoked it in the first place.

So far, he remained perfectly calm. After three arrows, the bear's eyes burned with rage, yet he could see clear wariness forming in them—this level of reasoning was nearly that of a sentient being.

And anything that shows wariness will eventually fear.

So Qin Yun's true goal was to make this bear feel fear. He needed the key, but nine arrows weren't enough—he had to reverse the situation: turn the hunter into the hunted, and reuse his arrows.

This insane idea was beyond ordinary comprehension; no one else could possibly understand it.

Any animal fears pain, fears blood loss—it's an instinct rooted in its genes, and this beast was no exception.

Once the pain reached a threshold and blood loss reached a critical point, fear would inevitably overwhelm it.

To flip the tide, Qin Yun had to keep running, keep kite-flying.

For the first time, his extraordinary stamina was fully revealed in the wilderness survival segment.

Circling the bear's den, Qin Yun ran in a wide loop—running for a full fifteen minutes.

This terrifying endurance made some female viewers on TikTok instinctively clench their thighs—so powerful.

This was sprinting at full adrenaline, maximum effort, with unbelievable endurance—and he was shooting back while running, all while talking.

Absolutely invincible!

"Qin, so strong."

"I've never watched a man run before—I got wet just watching him."

"Real man. Endurance beyond belief."

"OMG, does Qin have a girlfriend?"

Foreign platforms were blunt and unrestrained, their comments shockingly explicit, filled with lewd remarks.

In contrast, domestic platforms were purer—viewers were far more concerned for Qin Yun's safety, hoping he'd escape alive.

"Roar—!"

Another arrow—sudden, precise—struck the bear's cheek.

It let out a furious bellow, surged forward faster, ignoring the arrow still embedded in its face—the raw madness radiating even through the screen.

Qin Yun's mind remained as still as water. He glanced at his quiver—five arrows left. He swiftly grabbed one, nocked it, and fired without hesitation—aimed straight at the bear's eye.

Though hitting the eye was extremely unlikely, if he did, the entire plan would collapse—and the tide would instantly turn.

The bear lowered its head—the arrow struck its skull and bounced off, blocked by thick skin and bone.

But he didn't care. He drew another arrow and fired again.

"Pfft—!"

This arrow struck the bear's forearm—the bear didn't slow.

"Shhh—!"

Another arrow—struck the bear's chest. The sound of the shaft piercing flesh echoed clearly through the livestream.

The bear grew even more enraged.

Yet Qin Yun remained calm. His last two arrows—he didn't spare them. He drew them, aimed again.

The bear suddenly slowed, smashed a tree blocking its path with one swipe, roared furiously at Qin Yun, then snatched up a rock and hurled it.

Qin Yun dodged effortlessly, a faint smile appearing on his face—he saw his opening.

"Thud!"

The rock hit the ground. Both bear and man slowed, ran a few more steps, then stopped simultaneously.

Twenty meters apart.

"Roar—!"

The bear roared at Qin Yun, clearly frustrated. It took a few cautious steps forward—only for the two-legged creature to retreat a few steps, giving it no chance to close the distance.

Panting heavily, the bear glared at Qin Yun, slammed its paws on the ground several times, then turned and fled.

It fled!

Watching this through the drone's lens, every viewer was stunned.

On both Douyin and TikTok, the comment sections exploded—unbelievable expressions and uncontrollable exclamations flooded the screen.

Holy shit, Qin Ye actually scared off a brown bear?

"The bear's too heavy; chasing Qin Yun for so long drained it too much."

"Bear: F***ing bastard, don't you dare fall into my hands."

"WTF, Qin made a brown bear run away."

"God-like man. Invincible."

"I can't imagine how devastating Qin would be on an UFC ring."

"..."

Disbelieving comments flooded the screen. Even the production crew cheered.

George smiled and raised an eyebrow at Daniel.

Daniel, however, was even happier—he could now report upward, and the show's high viewership was guaranteed. The better Qin Yun performed, the happier he was.

But...

"The key is still inside the bear's belly—Qin still can't get it."

"Yeah, without the key, Qin will still fail."

"Sigh..."

Damn it, Qin Ye, think of something!

Qin Yun watched the bear retreat and burst into laughter.

"Hahaha—my chance has come."

Without hesitation, he sprinted after the direction the bear had fled.

He was about to launch his real plan: hunt down this 400-kilogram terror.

The locator's auto-shutdown timer had seven hours left. If he didn't retrieve the key within that time, he couldn't activate the treasure chest's location—and he'd be automatically eliminated.

Nature favors the fittest. He felt no pity. At this moment, he was merely another animal in the primordial forest of Ate Lin Lake.

The previous arrows had caused no fatal wounds—but the pain and blood loss were real. If the bear feared now, that was enough.

Qin Yun nocked an arrow and accelerated.

Soon, he spotted the bear's back again—broad, muscular shoulders like a small hill.

Sensing the two-legged creature behind it, the bear turned and roared.

Qin Yun smirked, drew his bow to full tension, and fired without hesitation.

"Puh—!"

The arrow shot like lightning, piercing the bear's back. Agony sent it into another frenzy—it spun and charged at Qin Yun.

Qin Yun was ready—he lunged forward and fled at full speed, giving it no chance.

After running a hundred meters, the bear, helpless, roared again, turned, and walked off. Qin Yun followed, waited for the right moment, and fired another arrow.

Furious, the bear yanked out the arrow and hurled it aside, then resumed pursuit.

Picking up the arrow from the ground, Qin Yun saw hope.

The beast ahead was drenched in blood. Under his kite-flying tactic, one or two hits meant nothing; three or four were bearable—but after ten or more, the bear's stamina and endurance had clearly plummeted.

Each arrow, though non-lethal, carved deep into its flesh. The pain was unbearable—but worse still was the unceasing blood loss.

No matter how thick its hide, its blood was finite.

At this point, after over an hour, TikTok viewers had shifted from concern for Qin Yun to a different emotion.

On the platform, PETA's furious condemnations dominated.

"Monster! Butcher! Executioner! How can you hurt an innocent life!"

"Stop! It's just a hibernating bear! You're more cruel than a beast!"

"Stop the killing! Reject violence! Boycott this cold-blooded butcher!"

"This isn't survival—it's torture! Won't the production team do anything?!"

"You're a monster without compassion—you'll never have a good end!"

Even if Qin Yun saw them, he wouldn't care.

Fuck, you gonna give me two million bucks? You bunch of idiots!

Qin Yun's quiver still held four arrows—each one reused, thankfully, as the brown bear hadn't grown smart enough to break them; each time the pain became unbearable, it yanked the arrows out and tossed them aside.

He nocked another arrow and fired—it struck the bear squarely in the rump, but this time the bear didn't turn to roar at him; instead, it sped up its escape, its back view looking distinctly disheveled.

Watching this, Qin Yun smiled faintly: "On the surface, this bear looks terrible, but after a good sleep, its wounds will heal quickly—it's not nearly as bad as you think. Let me be clear: so far, not a single arrow has hit a vital spot. So I must be patient."

After speaking, he checked the time on the locator; only three hours remained until automatic shutdown.

Qin Yun nocked another arrow and immediately gave chase; this time he ran two hundred meters before suddenly stopping.

He brushed away the snow on the ground, revealing a strange green plant with narrow, dark-green leaves growing low and clustered.

"Ha! Look what I found—this damn place has a variant of Ice-Capping Flower. My chance has come."

"Ice-Capping Flower? What's that?"

"Quick, Doudou, hurry up."

"Found it—Ice-Capping Flower is a highly toxic plant; its root and stem are deadly—half a gram can kill an adult. But this doesn't look like what Qin Ye described."

"Didn't Qin Ye say it's a variant?"

Qin Yun smiled as he dug up the green plant and held it toward the camera: "This is a variant of North American Ice-Capping Flower—called Ice-Sleep Grass. Its entire body contains Ice-Sleep Alkaloid. If a brown bear eats even this one plant, it'll drop dead instantly."

He quickly crushed it with stones and smeared the pulp onto the last three arrowheads.

As he smeared, he grinned—chilling to behold.

"With this Ice-Sleep Grass, I don't need to keep playing cat-and-mouse anymore. Once the arrow hits the bear, I just wait for the poison to take effect."

Though time was tight, the more urgent it became, the calmer he grew.

After coating the arrows with crushed Ice-Sleep Grass sap, Qin Yun increased his pursuit speed.

"Fuck, I'm getting pumped just watching—could we really be witnessing Qin Ye single-handedly kill a brown bear?"

"Aren't any of you sleeping? It's only one or two a. . in Canada."

"Sleep? Fuck no—we're waiting for Qin Ye to hunt that bear."

"Just thinking about it gets me excited—if Qin Ye actually pulls this off, holy shit, he's invincible."

"Forget invincible for now—Tom's already left the forest and entered Atlin Lake. He's heading straight for the treasure chest. I wonder how far Qin Ye is from there."

"Can't be helped—it's not his fault. Anyone else would be dead by now."

"Waiting for a miracle."

At the production team's camp, Daniel hung up the phone, his head throbbing.

"What's wrong?" George asked.

"Those PETA lunatics filed a complaint—they want us to shut down the livestream immediately."

"Those idiots, why even care?"

Daniel shook his head: "Forget it. Just got another call from above."

George snapped: "What the hell do these bastards want now?"

"Nothing." Daniel waved his hand. "They just told me to drop the matter entirely."

"Those motherfuckers—what's the point of saying this now?"

George laughed bitterly.