Chapter 286

“Bang!”

A gunshot rang out, startling Qin Yun and the livestream viewers into a uproar.

“Fuck, poachers?”

“Definitely illegal hunters—damn, how brazen are they?”

“666, poaching right under Brother Qin’s nose? They’re literally poking a tiger’s ass—don’t they know Brother Qin is an animal friend?”

“Brother Qin, be careful.”

Qin Yun stared toward the direction of the gunshot and made no move. Guns and a gang were enough to make him avoid them entirely. Besides, these people hadn’t wronged him, unlike back on the Xin-Zang route.

These people are armed. In Serengeti National Park, firearms are strictly prohibited except under special permit. We are in Seronera, the core zone of Serengeti National Park—here, permanent hunting bans have been in place for sixty or seventy years.

“So, barring surprises, their identities are clear enough.”

Qin Yun paused, then added:

“But in the Gelumitihe River area I’m heading to, legal hunting is permitted—though the fees are exorbitant, far beyond what ordinary people can afford. Only elderly male individuals may be hunted; killing females or cubs is strictly forbidden, as is hunting certain endangered species.”

“Of course, these prohibitions are vague—everyone turns a blind eye.”

Hearing this, netizens suddenly grew interested, especially those from China.

In China, since the new century, hunting has been virtually eradicated; nearly all animals are under national protection, with enforcement so strict foreigners can’t imagine it.

“Brother Qin, how much does one hunt cost?”

“Yeah, I’m curious now—can you hunt lions or elephants?”

“Do they charge by the kilo?”

“Hahaha, upstairs is insane!”

Qin Yun looked at the comments and explained: “First, you need a hunting permit—ordinary people can’t get one. Only with a permit can you enter the hunting zone. Second, there’s a per-animal fee. From what I know, an elderly male lion costs around $50,000; an elephant, $100,000.”

The viewers gasped in shock.

“Fuck, that expensive? Who the hell does that?”

“Definitely rich people’s game—I’d have to sell myself just to fire one shot.”

“It was never meant for ordinary people.”

“Insane—going in once would bankrupt you.”

Qin Yun smiled: “These hunting fees fund anti-poaching patrols and support the local Maasai tribes, reducing tribal poaching.”

Hearing this, everyone was stunned silent.

“Does that mean these guys aren’t from here—they came from Gelumitihe and crossed the border beyond the legal hunting zone?”

Someone guessed Qin Yun’s meaning—he nodded.

“Cross-border hunting is a vague violation. Even though Gelumitihe is at least 150 kilometers away, they can easily deny crossing the border—for these rich bastards, it’s just a fine.”

As he spoke, another gunshot rang out.

Qin Yun still didn’t want to get involved—but after the shot, a familiar roar echoed from that direction.

“Aoo—Roar—!”

Qin Yun’s eyes widened, his mouth opened slightly, his face filled with shock.

“This… is Da Huang?”

“How did he get over there?”

The livestream viewers went wild.

“Woo woo… Did we just run into Brother Qin’s mount?”

“Daring to attack Brother Qin’s mount? These guys are done for.”

“Even if you’re beating a dog, you still respect the owner—these guys are audacious beyond belief.”

“Da Huang: How dare you! Do you know who my master is? You shoot at me? You don’t want to live!”

Qin Yun sighed helplessly. He didn’t want to get involved—but Da Huang had, impossibly, run right into them. Now it was complicated.

Still, he couldn’t let Da Huang face danger alone.

Without hesitation, Qin Yun leapt over the Jin Hehuan tree and sprinted toward the southeast—the direction of the sound.

“I hope it’s just an accident—they don’t actually mean to hunt Da Huang.”

Qin Yun said this into the camera, his speed astonishing.

“Bang—!”

“Roar—!”

Gunshots and lion roars came one after another.

After ten minutes, he reached the slope, threw himself flat, and peered ahead.

Ahead lay a sparse woodland: scattered acacias, sausage trees, and fig trees, with wide open grasslands between them. Beneath one acacia, three SUVs were parked, and five armed figures stood scattered around.

Of the five, only one held his rifle and fired at something dozens of meters away.

Golden short grass swayed there—Da Huang’s form flickered in and out of sight.

“It’s a .375 H&H Magnum.”

Though over a hundred meters away, Qin Yun instantly recognized the weapons in their hands.

“This rifle is the top choice for hunting—versatile, lethal against antelope, zebra, lion, leopard, even buffalo.”

“Brother Qin, you really know everything.”

“I told you—‘Qin Encyclopedia’ isn’t a nickname for nothing.”

“That’s just thorough preparation.”

Qin Yun ignored the comments and whispered on: “But it won’t work for elephants. The .375 caliber is barely adequate—you need a .416, like the Magnum Rem.416. Extreme penetration—no matter how thick the hide, one shot pierces through.”

“Brother Qin, no need for the lecture—your mount’s about to die.”

“Da Huang: Waaahhh… stuck with a master like you—what a curse from my past life.”

Qin Yun’s forehead darkened. “I’m unarmed—I’m not going to stop them.”

Still, he pressed two fingers under his tongue and blew sharply.

“Beeeee—!”

A clear, piercing sound shot from his mouth, instantly drawing the hunters’ attention. At the same time, Da Huang, hearing Qin Yun’s call, swiftly changed direction and circled toward him.

“Fuck, he’s running—chase him!”

“Don’t chase—someone’s here.”

“Put the guns away—maybe it’s park rangers.”

Qin Yun watched as they quickly stowed their weapons and climbed into their vehicles, waiting where they were.

Da Huang soon circled around, appearing behind Qin Yun. Qin Yun patted his head, stepped back a few paces, and quickly left with him.

For now, he didn’t want to face them.

Mainly because he didn’t want to put himself in danger—against firearms, he was still fragile; one shot could kill him.

But he didn’t want to—didn’t mean others wouldn’t.

Not long after, the roar of car engines came from behind. Soon, three vehicles appeared in his line of sight. Around him, there was no cover at all—he couldn’t escape on foot in time.

Seeing this, he stopped.

Quickly, the three SUVs passed him and stopped ahead. Then, figures jumped out, guns in hand.

Three white, two black—besides the two Tanzanian locals, the three white men looked young, no older than thirty-five.

Soren Douglas stared at Qin Yun, astonished. In Serengeti, a lone walker? And worse—the lion they’d just hunted was his. The way the lion obeyed him—no doubt about it.

“Chinese? Japanese?”

Soren asked.

Qin Yun glanced at him—he was clearly the leader. The other two white men deferred to him; the two black men were likely guides.

“Chinese!”

“Sorry!” Soren apologized, pointing at Da Huang, who snarled beside Qin Yun. “Didn’t know this lion was yours. Almost injured him—I apologize.”

Qin Yun waved it off, expressionless. Though calm on the surface, he was ready to strike at any moment.

“Ignorance is no crime. But this is Seronera—hunting is strictly forbidden. Did you come from Gelumitihe?”

Soren’s face showed surprise: “This is Seronera? I thought we were still near Gelumitihe.”

He turned to the two Tanzanians, as if blaming them.

One of them shook his head: “I thought we were still near Gelumitihe too.”

Qin Yun knew they were pretending. No one would admit this openly—no one knew his identity.

He didn’t press it. He pointed northeast: “Head that way for a hundred kilometers—you’ll reach Gelumitihe.”

Soren laughed: “May I ask your name? Are you touring Serengeti?” He glanced at the drone hovering beside Qin Yun, guessing his identity.