Even though Ken had already engaged in close combat once before, seeing the massive eagle standing on the rock under the moonlight still struck him with awe. It looked as large as an adult, and the sight was still overwhelming.
Ken remained highly alert, observing the eagle's body language. He could clearly sense that the eagle felt both wary and fearful of him.
But it didn't immediately take flight the moment it saw him. If it had, Ken knew there would be no way to catch up—he would only be able to follow its flight path, slowly tracking it. But that would likely take until dawn, and by then, it would be impossible to find it.
Moreover, given the eagle's keen senses, as soon as it spotted him, it should have taken flight. Yet it hadn't, indicating that it either couldn't fly or had other intentions.
Ken suspected that the second reason was more likely: the eagle might still harbor some unfulfilled desire, possibly to eliminate Ken.
He knew this was his chance. However, he didn't dare charge at the eagle directly, afraid it would be scared off. His best bet was to make it come to him.
Ken stopped about ten meters away from the eagle, noticing that it had shifted slightly backward, seemingly showing signs of retreat. It might have sensed that Ken was recovering quickly and was preparing to flee.
Ken's mind raced. He knew this standoff couldn't last long. The longer the eagle realized it couldn't gain the upper hand, the more likely it was to escape.
Slowly, Ken raised the screwdriver to his mouth, biting it gently. Then he carefully pulled out his Swiss army knife from his pocket, opening the blade as slowly and softly as possible to avoid startling the eagle.
Once the knife was opened, Ken used it to slash a long wound across his left arm.
The blood began to flow, dropping in droplets to the ground below.
Ken then switched the knife to his left hand and cut a similar wound into his right arm.
He exposed the bloody wounds to the eagle.
Earlier, he had tasted the blood left on his arm by the eagle, and the intense thirst his body felt for that blood was unmistakable. He deduced that the eagle might also be attracted to his blood.
The eagle's ambush by the lake wasn't just because of its aggression; it likely had a predatory motive.
Otherwise, if it had a habit of attacking humans, it would have been discovered long ago, which didn't align with the eagle's apparent behavior.
The eagle's blood was a powerful temptation for Ken. It wasn't just the desire for a delectable taste; it was an instinctive need that transcended normal cravings for food.
Ken prided himself on his rationality and self-control, yet even he needed significant willpower to resist the pull of that blood. In fact, his decision to face this dangerous mutated eagle head-on was largely driven by that very need.
Despite the eagle's higher-than-average intelligence, Ken didn't believe it could possess such strong self-control.
Within seconds, the blood from his wounds stopped flowing. It had thickened and clotted, with the edges of the cuts already beginning to close.
Ken cut into the wounds once more, allowing more blood to flow freely.
As he continued to show the eagle his blood and slowly stepped forward, he noticed the eagle's posture growing increasingly aggressive.
It couldn't hold back much longer!
Suddenly, the eagle spread its enormous wings, flapping them fiercely and shooting towards Ken's head. It folded its wings abruptly and extended its claws, aiming to strike.
Ken's attention was razor-sharp, his senses at their peak. He could even hear the eagle's heartbeat and its breathing.
The moment the eagle prepared to strike, Ken was already aware.
As the eagle soared into the air, Ken had already grabbed the screwdriver from his mouth, lowering his center of gravity in preparation for the attack.
Ken's dynamic vision was in full effect. He locked onto the eagle's position in mid-air without hesitation or retreat. As the eagle swooped down on him, Ken launched himself upward with all his strength.
Ken's plan was clear: whether using his fists or the screwdriver, striking the eagle in other parts of its body might cause damage, but disabling its flight or ability to retaliate was far more challenging.
Therefore, his target was unmistakably the eagle's eyes!
And more specifically, the eye that he had previously blinded and which hadn't fully healed!
The eagle's reaction was entirely unexpected. While it was more intelligent than most eagles, it still misjudged Ken's actions. It could tell Ken was deliberately tempting it with blood, hoping to provoke an attack, but it couldn't resist the temptation and didn't want to hold back any longer.
In its judgment, Ken's first reaction to its attack should have been to dodge, just like during their previous encounter by the lake. Therefore, it didn't put all its force into the first strike. It was confident that Ken would dodge, and it would follow up with a second strike, catching him and lifting him into the air to its true "territory."
However, Ken didn't dodge. Instead, he leaped straight toward the eagle, throwing its calculations into disarray. Combined with the fact that its injured eye caused a visual misjudgment, Ken slipped between its claws and latched onto it mid-air!
While holding on, Ken drove the screwdriver deep into the eagle's remaining unhealed eye, pulling it out before plunging it back in!
The eagle screeched in agony as it fell from the sky, rolling down the mountainside, crashing into trees, and sending Ken flying. The screwdriver was flung from his hand, but Ken still clung tightly to the eagle, refusing to let go.
The eagle didn't die immediately. It struggled fiercely, and the two engaged in an even more brutal fight on the ground.
...
Warm sunlight bathed his face as Ken slowly opened his eyes.
He found himself sprawled awkwardly on the hillside, one leg dangling from a tree trunk, his body wedged in the thick undergrowth. He looked like an "S" shape.
He pulled his leg free from the tree and rolled down the slope, crashing into another tree before coming to a stop.
Ken groaned in pain as he rubbed his bruised ribs and head, surveying his surroundings.
He was still on the same hill. Looking at the position of the sun, it seemed to be morning.
But Ken knew that it had to be more than just a few hours since his battle with the eagle.
He looked up at the slope above him. There were broken branches everywhere, a clear sign of where his last fight with the mutated eagle had taken place.
Ken climbed back up, making his way to the spot where he had lost consciousness. There was no trace of the eagle, not even a feather or a drop of blood, aside from one of his shoes.
But Ken knew the eagle hadn't escaped.
Before he lost consciousness, he was sure the eagle had died in his arms, and he had drunk a large amount of its blood.