"Damn this awful weather!"

Lin Chen cursed under his breath, but he wasn’t discouraged. He simply picked up a branch and began to draw in the dirt.

With just a few strokes, a tent-shaped, triangular shelter took shape on the ground.

"Here’s the Yukon River, and here’s the wild apple tree... that means the berry bushes on the clifftop are over here. This area is where I found the chives, so the grouse I hunted today must have been... over to the left!"

A few minutes later, he had mapped out the surrounding terrain from memory.

In addition, he drew large X’s in two different spots on the map.

"The wolf howl I heard on the day I landed was from here. The one from a few days ago was... in the direction I found the grouse?"

After this simple review, he quickly uncovered a crucial piece of information he had almost overlooked.

A wolf pack!

’Wolves are primarily nocturnal creatures. While they sometimes appear during the day, my impression is that they mostly howl at night.’

’What does a howl mean again... Are they calling to their packmates?’

Wolves are pack animals. A call to their companions most likely meant one of two things.

They were either hunting prey or had encountered a formidable enemy.

’Damn... It looks like a wolf pack is lying low somewhere near me. With all this rain, they must be starving. I was just lucky I didn’t run into them this morning. I might not be so fortunate next time.’

As he processed his thoughts, Lin Chen broke out in a cold sweat.

A cornered beast will lash out, as the saying goes. Wolves were already formidable fighters, and they would be even more ferocious after days of starvation.

With his level of archery, if he went up against a whole pack, taking one of them down with him would be a very good outcome.

Should he continue to hole up in his shelter, stretching out his supplies of a few pounds of Jerusalem artichokes and the nearby wild mushrooms for a few more days? Or should he risk a potential encounter with the wolf pack and travel farther afield to hunt?

As these two options flashed through his mind, he hesitated, then suddenly remembered the GoPro on his chest.

’No, I can’t do that. I’m representing the Da Xia people. If I choose to just hole up in the camp, it might maximize my safety, but it would also show a cowardly side of me to countless foreign viewers.’

’The most popular contestants in past seasons of *Wild Survival* all made a name for themselves through hunting. The one who took down a Musk Ox and a Black Bear is especially legendary, a figure whose fame has never faded.’

’As the first of the Da Xia people to participate in this show, I have to leave a strong enough impression on the viewers. I have to show them that the Da Xia people don’t produce cowards!’

That settles it. I’m going hunting!

Having made his decision, he immediately pulled up the shop’s exchange page, his eyes locking onto the various tool masteries that cost 20 Happiness Points.

’Trapping, dagger, axe, bow, fishing... The bow mastery should give me the most significant boost, right? Hand-to-hand combat is obviously a bad idea, and traps are too dependent on the weather.’

’Right now, I only have 4 Happiness Points. Even after eating this roast chicken, that number probably won’t go up by much.’

That meant it was highly unlikely he would be able to afford the bow mastery anytime soon.

’Whatever. Relying too much on the system isn’t good anyway. I have to rely on my own efforts!’

’Skill mastery probably just saves a massive amount of practice time, instantly granting a certain level of proficiency.’

’Since I can’t afford it for now, I’ll just have to practice on my own!’

’Wolf packs excel at tracking and hunting as a group, probably based on the same principles as a pack of dogs. Once one of them gets a bite, it won’t let go. That means my primary goal is to never let them get close.’

It wasn’t just wolves; the forests of North America were also home to incredibly powerful bears and wolverines.

Besides practicing the speed and accuracy of his bow shots, he also needed to work on climbing trees and his overall physical fitness.

Without enough carbs to fuel his body, physical training was obviously out of the question. He would have to start with archery and climbing trees.

By the time he had finished making his short-term plans, the skin of the grouse had unknowingly turned a tempting, crispy brown.

Skin that wasn’t basted with a sugar glaze wouldn’t turn that alluring, deep red, but as long as he controlled the heat, he could still roast the skin to a rich, reddish-brown.

The fat dripping from the bird’s tail end had congealed into a long, thin thread, as if the very crack it seeped from had been sealed shut by grease.

He scraped his combat knife back and forth across the skin a few times, producing a distinct, crisp CRACKLE.

"Hear that?"

Lin Chen flashed a confident smile at the camera.

He moved the roast chicken, spit and all, away from the fire, holding a large pan underneath to catch it.

He carefully gripped the small wooden pin that sealed the grouse’s cavity and pulled it firmly out.

There was no gushing fountain of juice as he might have imagined; the seal had clearly done its job perfectly.

"Ha, what was I thinking? It’s not like I injected it with marinade, why would it spray like a fountain?"

He slapped his forehead in frustration, then aimed the tip of his combat knife just above the bird’s tail, slicing down to open it up.

A huge cloud of steam billowed out, and the rich aroma of mushrooms mixed with garlic wafted over him. A small, clear stream of chicken juice trickled from the opening into the pan below.

Just witnessing this sight made his stomach, which had been numb with hunger, roar back to life, rumbling in protest.

Lin Chen grabbed a leg with his left hand, bent it slightly outwards, and slid the tip of his knife into the seam near the thigh. With little effort, he separated the entire leg quarter at the joint.

The cross-section revealed tender, pinkish meat that was constantly weeping juices. He had controlled the cooking time perfectly—this was the sign of being cooked just right.

GULP.

The distinct sound of someone swallowing their spit echoed through the quiet shelter.

Lin Chen couldn’t be bothered with anything else. He held the leg quarter up to the camera for two seconds before eagerly taking a huge bite.

CRUNCH.

The crispy chicken skin shattered on impact, and scalding, savory juices burst from between his teeth.

A light saltiness had fully permeated the meat, and he could vaguely taste a slight tang—the flavor of the wild apple juice that had remained on the skin.

He tilted his head back and let out a huge puff of hot air, his face a mask of pure bliss.

"Freshly killed chicken just tastes different. The meat is springy yet tender, and every single muscle fiber is packed with juice. There’s even a faint sweetness left on the tongue in the aftertaste."

That first bite completely unleashed his appetite. Forgetting all about his image, he began tearing into the steaming leg quarter like a man possessed.

Glistening juices dripped continuously down his hand, but unwilling to let a single drop go to waste, he brought his mouth close to slurp them up.

He didn’t eat the chicken foot, which was completely dried out and even slightly scorched at the tip. He only gnawed off the tender cartilage and tendons before tossing it into the pan along with the now-spotless leg bone.

Wiping the residual grease from the corner of his mouth, he didn’t hesitate for a second before reaching out and tearing off the other leg quarter.