Chapter 42: Tiger!
"Improving physical attributes is always a good thing. It means that at every level, I can unleash speed and strength far beyond others of the same rank… When it comes to speed, I'm quite adept. I'm on the path of the Time Element, and when it comes to running away, I'll definitely excel."
Jiang Zhe rubbed the dark purple thunder seal on his chest with satisfaction.
"I should give it a name… Hmm, how about 'Thunder Prison Realm'? Anna, what do you think?"
"It's a fitting name," Orianna replied respectfully. "This seems to be a completely unprecedented ability. It's only right that its master names it."
Orianna wasn't just flattering him—she had her reasons. This ability clearly operated at a Domain Lord level, comparable to the level of a core origin seed. A power like this should not exist at the planetary lifeform stage.
"As for thunder-element treasures…" Jiang Zhe turned to Orianna. "Are there any thunder-attributed treasures on Earth?"
Orianna searched the internet and replied tentatively,
"The Thunder Dragon Emperor's horn, scales, bones, tendons, heart, and blood?"
"???"
The corners of Jiang Zhe's mouth twitched. "Why don't you just suggest I turn Thor into a tonic?"
He paused, then asked, "What about Babata? My teacher's World Ring should be on him. I can't believe there's nothing valuable inside."
Orianna shook her head. "You need an A-grade thunder-element treasure. Your teacher wasn't so poor he had to collect scraps."
Suddenly reminded of something, Orianna added,
"Master, that Mechanical Clan Immortal comprehended the laws of thunder. Those beings love to hoard materials. There might be what you need in this World Bracelet."
Jiang Zhe took the bracelet from her, rolling it around in his hand as he asked,
"If I use spiritual force to cleanse the imprint left inside, will it hurt me?"
"It won't," Orianna replied. "I've already tried purging it with original energy. There's no counterattack, but it's extremely difficult to remove even the tiniest bit."
"Even though the original owner is dead, the soul imprint inside—while now like water without a source—is still tough. The energy level is far beyond what we at the planetary level can handle. To borrow an old saying from Hanchinese: 'Moving mountains like the Foolish Old Man.' That perfectly describes the process of cleansing this imprint."
"'Moving mountains,' huh?" Jiang Zhe raised an eyebrow. "So... it can be done, just takes a lot of effort?"
He then slid the purple-gold bracelet, covered in mysterious engravings, onto his wrist—his attitude clear.
The World Bracelet must be broken into—ASAP.
Several pots were already boiling. All they lacked was rice!
After a quick shower, Jiang Zhe lay on his bed, mentally reviewing the core techniques of the Dormant Dragon Method.
"Sleep facing east, lie curled like a dragon, one arm bent beneath the head and aimed toward the spiritual sea, the other rubbing the belly, connecting with the dantian. One leg stretched, one retracted. Still the heart, still the mind, close the eyes first. Reach the extreme of emptiness, and guard tranquility with focus…"
He positioned himself just right, visualizing the slumbering dragon image from the Dormant Dragon Method.
The mysterious charm of Zhuangzi Dreams of a Butterfly slowly took hold.
Jiang Zhe felt a wave of serenity wash over him, as if returning to the womb. A peaceful smile spread across his face as he drifted off.
His consciousness floated into the void.
---
It was a sweltering season. Cicadas buzzed endlessly in an ancient forest, disturbing every creature's rest.
Inside a dark, damp cave, lying on a stinking deerskin, a weak golden-furred tiger cub slowly opened its eyes. Despite its frailty, a glimmer of intelligence shone in them as it shivered, eager to explore the world.
Sensing something, the tigress turned her head and gently licked the cub with her rough tongue, eyes full of human-like worry.
She had four cubs this litter. The youngest—the runt—was the weakest and the last to open its eyes.
The other three had already staggered around the cave by day three, opened their eyes on day five, and started eating raw meat by day ten.
Now it was day fifteen, and the runt was still lying limp on the animal hide, barely able to nurse.
But—at least—it had opened its eyes. It had seen the world, if only briefly.
If nothing unexpected happened, it probably wouldn't survive the winter.
After feeding, the little tiger smacked its lips, content, and soon began to snore.
Snore—grumble—snore—
Slowly, its cute and soft snores transformed into deep thunderous rumbles.
Its small body—barely the length of an adult's arm—shuddered with each thunderous pulse, as if it might fall apart at any moment.
Strangely, it didn't seem painful. The tiny furball's round face was full of enjoyment.
It was simply following instinct, doing what benefited it most.
The tigress was stunned, watching silently.
One of the siblings, annoyed by the noise, tried to wake the runt, but the tigress smacked it across the cave with one paw.
Cicadas and thunder mixed in the cave, making the summer even more noisy.
The other three cubs paced around restlessly.
The tigress, unusually knowledgeable, deciphered the cub's thunder-vibration pattern and lay down to imitate it.
At first, their sounds clashed. But slowly, the tigress matched her rhythm to the cub's.
The cave itself began to hum with harmonious resonance.
It was like… gentle rainfall lulling one to sleep, or watching someone eat so well you want a bite too.
Exhausted, the three rowdy cubs fell asleep, snoring in sync with the thunderous rumbles, their bodies vibrating in strange frequencies.
Eat, sleep, snore.
Those were the only three things the runt did after opening its eyes. It woke every 90 minutes to eat.
Because of this, the food stores quickly depleted, and by the next day, it had to eat raw meat.
It was stinky, full of nutrients, but tasted terrible.
That was the cub's first thought while eating.
Its eyes sparkled with intelligence. Though it didn't like it, it finished off a whole wild pheasant anyway.
Strangely, its intellect was terrifyingly high. It never let likes or dislikes interfere with what was beneficial.
Maybe it was because… as the future king of the jungle, the will to grow stronger was etched into its blood and soul?
That was the only explanation.
And so it continued—
Eat, sleep, snore.
Five days. Ten. A month…
The runt grew like a greenhouse plant on steroids. So fast it shocked even the tigress.
From arm-length to over a meter long. Then shoulder-height reached about a meter, and body length stretched to nearly two meters—not even counting the tail, which added two-thirds more.
The runt, once the weakest, had grown larger than its two brothers combined.
On day 47, a lone wolf snuck into the cave while the tigress was out hunting.
It was massive, nearly two meters at the shoulder, old and frail, but still a deadly threat.
In the end, the runt leveraged its smaller size and agility in the narrow cave. Together with its three brothers, it brought the wolf down.
But Tiger Three had his belly torn open in the fight—his organs spilled across the floor, and he died instantly.
Staring blankly at his brother's body, the runt mechanically tore open the wolf's throat and drank the hot blood.
Its mind filled with strange new concepts:
Cruelty. Survival of the fittest. The strong eat the weak. Natural selection…
When the tigress returned, she silently carried away the dead cub and buried it beneath an ancient tree.
The next day, she took the remaining three to learn how to hunt.
The runt remained as smart as ever. After a quick lesson, it went off solo and caught a tender young deer, dragging it to a stream to drink its blood.
Moments later, thunderous snores echoed in the valley.
Seventy more days passed. Winter arrived.
Hunting grew harder.
The snow now reached depths that could swallow the cub's massive body—even with its nearly two-meter shoulder height.
But the intelligent runt knew how to avoid danger and find prey. It never came back empty-pawed.
In fact, it kept growing rapidly through the winter.
Spring came. The snow melted.
It was time for the family to migrate.
But they migrated separately.
The runt had been driven out of the family.
It felt a pang of sorrow but had long expected this day.
Silently, it followed them for a hundred miles, listening to their parting roars, then bowed its head deeply in farewell.
It returned to its birthplace and claimed a hunting territory stretching hundreds of kilometers.
There, it revealed its brutal nature.
First, it wiped out every wolf pack.
At 11 months old, it had driven out or killed all large animals in its territory, turning it into a barren wasteland.
It was pleased. It liked killing. It liked showing its might.
By then, it was larger than the tigress. Shoulder height nearly four meters. Its presence couldn't be hidden in the forest anymore.
And it began moving toward the primal depths of the forest…
At twelve months old, the young tiger encountered its first true life-threatening crisis—a dark red, crown-bearing venomous serpent.
Despite its keen instincts—avoiding venomous fangs and coiling constriction—the tiger couldn't anticipate the serpent's venom spray, launched over twenty meters away like a toxic mist.
The vapor engulfed its face in seconds, bringing a searing, corrosive pain that shot through its nose and began spreading internally.
Fortunately, it had shut its eyes just in time, avoiding blindness.
Its ears twitched—wind slicing through the air—it instinctively turned and bolted.
Crashing through the underbrush, snapping trees and tearing vines, its vision blurred under the onslaught of poison. Eventually, it stumbled headfirst into a raging river.
Heaven hadn't turned its back on the tiger.
Downriver, where the current slowed, it floated ashore with a six-meter-long crocodile clutched in its jaws.
It had survived the venom.
And as if the heavens rewarded its defiance, that giant croc became a perfect post-recovery meal.
"They say eels dine with gourmets, and crocs feast with beasts."
"Well, your cousin's not around today—so your tiger brother will do just fine."
---
At one year and four months, it challenged a chocobo-like bird—those powerful legs left a lasting impression… strong, but delicious.
At one year and six months, it encountered a twenty-meter tall brown bear—and ran like hell.
At two years and three months, it saw humans for the first time—six meters tall, red earth-toned skin, cloaked in animal hides.
A primal instinct screamed at it: stay away!
These creatures meant doom.
---
At four years and seven months, the tiger, now powerful beyond compare, felt shackled by an invisible ceiling—a "glass sky" pressing down on its head.
It began retracing its path, searching for something that would stir its soul.
At five years and two months, it returned to its birthplace, only to find its old den occupied by a panther, shivering inside.
But the tiger, no longer the bloodthirsty brute of its youth, had changed. It still enjoyed battle—but only against worthy foes.
It let the panther be and left after half an hour, continuing its quest to find its mother and two brothers.
---
At five years and nine months, after nearly seven months of wandering, the tiger still felt a deep emotional tether, an incomplete bond.
It found this funny sometimes—how could a jungle beast like itself feel such human-like emotion?
Still, it pressed on.
---
At six years and three months, it met a sickly male tiger—its second brother.
Smaller than their mother, blind in one eye, half its tail missing, bones protruding from a scarred body.
Frankly, he looked worse than the old wolf they'd once killed.
But the younger tiger froze in place, its golden eyes bloodshot.
This was his second brother.
How had he ended up like this? He was on the verge of death.
Sadly, Tiger Two didn't recognize him. His mind was foggy—senile, even.
But when he heard talk of revenge, he led the younger tiger to a nearby human settlement of nearly a thousand.
They crouched on a hillside overlooking the plain, where that settlement loomed like a crouched beast.
Tiger Two howled, a cry of agony and vengeance.
And the younger tiger understood.
Their mother and eldest brother had been killed by these humans.
Their skins dragged into the city as trophies.
---
That night, under clouded moonlight, the tiger attacked.
The hundred-year-old wooden walls couldn't withstand even a single charge.
Once inside the residential zone, it dropped to the ground and rolled—turning its massive body into a meat grinder.
Fire, blood, chaos.
The entire settlement was wiped out.
It followed the scent to two torn and battered tiger pelts—the only remains of his mother and brother.
With grief tearing through its heart, a surge of soul-shaking sorrow finally broke that oppressive "glass ceiling."
But had it a choice, it would've preferred not to.
Tiger Two stumbled forward and collapsed onto the pelts. His body was beyond repair, blood all but gone.
In his final moments, his cloudy gaze cleared. He let out a soft purr of relief—the family was together again.
---
The young tiger howled in anguish, lifting his brother's body and the two pelts onto his back.
He returned to their original den—the place they were born.
Where it began, it would end.
---
At nine years and three months, after three years of silence, he set out again.
This time, toward the forest's heart, earning a reputation as the "Tiger King."
By nineteen years and ten months, he had ascended to the rank of one of the planet's Supreme Beast Emperors.
But at twenty-three years and seven months, a colossal starship descended from the sky.
Seeing that titan from beyond the stars filled the tiger with primal dread.
His instincts screamed:
"Flee! Flee this cursed planet or perish!"
But where could he go?
This land raised him. His family was buried here.
---
At twenty-three years and eight months, he snuck close to the starship.
The first victims were humans, chained and marched into its dark belly.
By twenty-three years and eleven months, the slaughter spread to beasts.
As one of the Beast Emperors, the tiger had no power to resist.
He was captured.
A slave collar was fastened around his neck.
His will was stolen.
His soul sank into a fog.
---
When he regained awareness, he was already inside a massive gladiator arena, forced into beast battles.
He cherished each moment of clarity.
Battle after battle, he survived, earning victory after victory, rising to become the arena's top star.
He secretly built his strength, never giving up on freedom.
But the heavens were cruel.
His win streak ended at 797 victories.
To score one last big profit, the arena masters decided to kill him.
They injected a slow-acting poison before his final match.
Dragging his half-numbed body into the arena, he unleashed one final burst of glory—lightning erupted, his domain decimated his foe.
Then, the poison took him.
He died.
---
"I'm… Tiger Cub?"
"No—Jiang Zhe! I'm Jiang Zhe!"
At the final moment of life, the illusion broke.
Tiger Cub… no—Jiang Zhe, fully awakened.
But it was already too late.
Looking back on everything, he could only shake his head and smile bitterly.
Even as a Beast Emperor at the planetary peak, wielding a domain…
What am I in the vastness of the universe?
---
[Author's Note]
Jiang Zhe's mental state and spiritual cultivation will develop through the Dormant Dragon Method from now on.
[End of the Chapter]