Blackstone Code
Chapter 304:

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From the elevated vantage point of the large vehicle, Lynch had a clear view of the unfolding drama. All around him, the grass swayed incessantly, concealing swift-moving predators within its depths. These were the apex hunters of the plains—leopard-lions.

The leopard-lion was neither a leopard nor a lion but a distinct species of feline. Its coat bore markings reminiscent of a jaguar, while a golden mane encircled its neck. This striking appearance earned it the name "leopard-lion." Once, lions and leopards roamed these grasslands, but as the leopard-lion population grew, they were driven deeper into remote areas or entirely displaced. Today, the dominant carnivorous predators in Nagalier were the leopard-lions and spotted wolves.

Spotted wolves were territorial creatures with strong survival instincts. More resilient to hunger than leopard-lions, they required less favorable conditions to thrive and thus remained rooted in their territories rather than migrating with herbivores. Intelligent and cautious, they avoided humans unless desperate for food, retreating to their domains after occasional raids on villages.

Leopard-lions, however, relied heavily on abundant prey to sustain their strength and raise their young. As such, they followed the migratory herds, ensuring a constant supply of food.

Minutes later, the restless rustling of the grass subsided, leaving an eerie silence that weighed heavily on the group. Hunters disembarked from the smaller vehicles, armed with ropes and nets, advancing cautiously toward the scattered herd. Only then did Lynch notice how the riders had corralled the hammerhead bovines into a confined area—a strategic move to facilitate the next phase of the hunt.

As time passed, one of the wounded hammerhead bovines suddenly raised its head, twitching nervously. It sensed danger—but too late. In a flash, a golden blur erupted from the grass, soaring through the air to land squarely on the bovine's back. The adult leopard-lion gleamed under the sunlight, its golden mane shimmering like a prized accessory coveted by Bupayne's elite. With claws nearly four inches long, it sank its talons deep into the bovine's flesh, tearing at its wounds. Blood splattered across its radiant fur, adding a macabre beauty to the scene.

Another leopard-lion emerged, then another, until multiple predators surrounded the panicked herd. Unlike their usual behavior when faced with threats, the injured and frightened hammerhead bovines failed to unite against their attackers. Their wounds convinced them they were already doomed, overriding any instinct to band together. Fear paralyzed their small minds, scattering them further.

The riders gradually withdrew, making way for the hunters clad in protective gear. The sight was both absurd and profoundly unsettling.

"We could use guns or knives," Hassanah explained, his eyes gleaming with greed and bloodlust, "but intact pelts fetch higher prices, as do live specimens. I've instructed them not to use weapons." He lifted an old pair of binoculars to his face, savoring the spectacle before him.

Through the lenses, he watched as the hunters closed in on their first target—an exhausted hammerhead bovine lying helplessly on the ground. Seven or eight leopard-lions surrounded it, some gripping its throat, others tearing at its abdomen—the softest part of its body. Blood and entrails spilled onto the earth as the dying bovine watched its insides being ripped apart, awaiting death's inevitable embrace.

When the hunters approached, the feeding leopard-lions emitted low growls of warning. This was their kill. Two of them crouched, muscles coiled in preparation to pounce if the intruders didn't retreat. But they misunderstood the situation. These humans weren't there to steal their prey—they were the prey.

Just as the hammerhead bovines' tasty meat had lured them into peril, the leopard-lions' beautiful pelts now placed them in grave danger. Sensing the humans' unyielding resolve, the leopard-lions realized negotiation was impossible. When the first predator launched itself forward, several hunters simultaneously threw their nets. Though sturdy and accurately cast, the net couldn't fully contain the beast's explosive force. Man and animal tumbled violently across the ground.

One hunter, struck by the impact, staggered to his feet only to collapse moments later. Blood streamed from his nose, unstoppable despite his efforts to wipe it away. No one rushed to aid him; no one cared. Here, injuries like these were fatal, and treatment was futile. The leopard-lion's collision with the man mirrored a high-speed car crash. Despite protective layers of leather and metal, the man's ribs shattered, piercing his lungs. Within seconds, blood flooded his chest cavity, depriving his brain of oxygen. His world dimmed even as the midday sun blazed above. He was gone.

To the animals of the grassland, to Nagalier society, the loss of one human life meant nothing. The others pressed on, grappling with the ensnared leopard-lion. Deprived of dexterous hands and sharp intellect, the creature's brute strength only entangled it further. More hunters piled on, pinning it down and binding it with ropes.

Meanwhile, other leopard-lions abandoned their meals, recognizing these humans as formidable adversaries. A guttural call summoned reinforcements, drawing more predators to the fray. From his perch atop the large vehicle, Hassanah smiled, relishing the struggle between humanity and nature. To him, this raw contest stirred his blood.

But the hunters felt differently. If not for money, if not for the slim chance to elevate their families' status, none would willingly risk their lives here. To them, this was suicide.

Man and beast clashed fiercely. Two or three hunters wrestled each leopard-lion, forbidden by Hassanah to mar the precious pelts with blades or firearms. They relied solely on ropes and nets. Without tranquilizer guns or sedatives—and with toxins strictly regulated due to their potential to damage fur quality—the battle devolved into brutal hand-to-hand combat. Humans fought tooth and nail against apex predators.

After observing for a while, Lynch remarked, "This is taking too long. Perhaps you should allow them to use weapons."

Hassanah smirked. "Do damaged pelts fetch the same price as pristine ones?"

Lynch shook his head, dropping the subject. Though they spoke of practicalities, the underlying truth lingered unspoken.

The intense fight dragged on for over ten minutes before winding down. Some leopard-lions fled into the grass, disappearing without a trace. Others strangled to death, their pelts perfectly preserved, or trapped in nets, unable to escape. Hassanah surveyed the spoils with satisfaction, utterly indifferent to the wounded strewn about the field. He had paid for results, and these men had delivered. If anything, they should thank him for his generosity.

Next came the grim task of cleanup. Riders returned to butcher the hammerhead bovines, using their hides to wrap the captured leopard-lions, safeguarding the valuable pelts during transport. Only afterward did they tend to the injured, distributing rudimentary supplies like cloth strips and ash.

Lynch sighed quietly, watching the scene unfold. Most of these men wouldn't survive—not because of their immediate injuries but because of what lurked unseen. The leopard-lions' teeth and claws harbored countless bacteria and viruses harmless to themselves but lethal to humans. Even properly treated wounds often succumbed to infection.

Half an hour later, Hassanah's nephew approached, beaming with excitement. "Fourteen leopard-lions total. Three alive, the rest dead. Their pelts are in perfect condition—I've never seen such high-quality specimens."Please vote for this novel at https://www.novelupdates.com/series/blackstone-code/There are advance chapters available nowAccess will be granted 24 hours after the donationTier 1: 20 Advance chapters Link

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