Chapter 108: The Super Golden Eagle

As Liang Jing moved, more than a hundred private soldiers outside the forest had already deployed into combat formation, occupying favorable terrain and readying themselves for battle. Should they detect any sign of him—and find themselves unable to subdue him—they were prepared to unleash their autocannons. With a range of several kilometers, the two cannons, positioned apart, could cover almost the entire mountain. The only way he could escape would be to flee to the other side.

However, many believed Liang Jing was already a dead man. Anyone who had seen the severity of his injuries knew that unless he was no longer human, there was no way he could still be alive, let alone capable of fighting or posing a threat to those entering the forest. The autocannons, as a final contingency, seemed entirely redundant.

What they did not know was that Liang Jing was not only alive but thriving, systematically slaughtering their comrades.

Standing quietly to the side, Wu Yong felt a growing sense of dread. The gunfire within the woods had been tapering off, a silence that brought him no comfort—only escalating unease and, ultimately, fear. It was an abstract, instinctual warning. He toyed with the chilling thought that Liang Jing was still alive and hunting these soldiers, cutting them down so efficiently that they couldn't even fire a signal flare.

Yet, his reason immediately dismissed this as an absurd fantasy. Could Liang Jing truly survive such grievous wounds? How could he evade the mutated beasts of the forest while bleeding? Even if he were alive, how could he possibly retain any fighting capability? The notion of recovering from such injuries in a short time was idiocy; the world was not that mystical. Furthermore, even if Liang Jing were miraculously hale and hearty, could he really butcher the soldiers without a sound? Wu knew the caliber of these men; even if Liang Jing were formidable, he shouldn't be able to prevent them from signaling.

Beyond that, Wu didn't believe Liang Jing would dare to strike back. These were private soldiers. Even though the government’s influence had waned, they were still a force no one dared challenge. To attack them would be to invite a calamity, branding oneself a hunted enemy with nowhere to hide. Moreover, the deep-seated subservience ingrained in the Chinese people made such defiance unthinkable. He refused to believe anyone could be that irrational.

Wu shook his head, rejecting the thought. The probability of all those conditions being met was less than five percent. He was, after all, a man of logic.

Yet, a moment later, a thought struck him: if Liang Jing truly were alive, he might just be the type of madman to do exactly that. Recalling the lethal strike Liang Jing had launched against Political Commissar Gong, Wu’s expression shifted violently. The man was a desperate gambler, a daredevil of the highest order.

As the gunfire faded into complete silence, fear gripped him. It felt as if an immense, suffocating terror was closing in. His intuition, sharpened since he had awakened his telepathic ability, screamed at him. He dared not take the risk. Caution was the path to peace of mind.

"You! Go back and report to Political Commissar Gong immediately. I need instructions."

Wu Yong could not afford to gamble. If his intuition were correct, the losses would be catastrophic, and his own fate would be sealed. He sent a man back to relay the situation and his own deductions, desperate for guidance from the Commissar. "Everyone, increase vigilance! Be ready for combat at any moment!"

He muttered to himself, "Liang Jing, just what are you?"

***

"What? You still haven't found him? No news at all?"

"Don't talk to me about excuses! I don't care how you do it—I want to see Liang Jing, dead or alive!"

Lying in bed, Commissar Gong’s face darkened, his chest heaving with rage. His face was flushed as if he were drunk. He cared for nothing but the miserable end of his enemy. Anyone who had brought him to the brink of death had to pay a horrific price. He ignored Wu Yong’s theories; his only desire was to see Liang Jing dead—or better yet, captured alive for his own personal disposal.

"Tell Wu Yong: whatever the cost, I want to see Liang Jing suffer. No one offends me and lives to tell the tale!"

***

Receiving the order, Wu felt trapped. The situation was dire. The awakened ones and the private soldiers who had entered the forest had vanished, and he had no one left to deploy. Without resources, finding a corpse or a ghost in that wilderness was an impossible task.

He sighed. Working under such a leader was agonizing. If things were as he feared, he would have to start planning for his own future.

Deep within the forest, beneath a towering tree over a hundred feet tall and at the base of a jagged, hundred-meter cliff, Liang Jing froze. He was stunned. Once again, he beheld a monstrous creature—a beast as terrifying as the "Flood Dragon" he had seen in the lake. This creature was massive, with a wingspan of at least twenty meters, dwarfing the fossilized remains of the *Argentavis*, the largest flying bird known to man, which spanned only fifteen meters. And this one was very much alive.

Liang Jing lay prone, daring not to move, terrified of drawing its attention. He knew, even with his recent growth in power, he was no match for this beast.

It lay at the base of the cliff, wings spread. Its body, legs, and talons were covered in thick, layered feathers of brown and gold, shimmering with a metallic luster that suggested an impenetrable defense—likely immune to standard firearms. Its head was majestic, its beak and talons dark and gleaming with a cold, lethal edge. At an estimated ten meters in length, it was essentially a living fighter jet. Liang Jing could faintly see a strange, flowing energy radiating from its plumage.

*Is this a mutated Golden Eagle?*

It bore a striking resemblance to the golden eagles of the old world, though the scale was incomprehensible. Before the world changed, golden eagles were among the most ferocious birds of prey, known for their agility and power, capable of taking down wolves. If this were a mutated version, Liang Jing could not fathom its true strength.

He dared not even use his "Basic Insight" to analyze it, fearing that even the attempt might alert the beast. He wanted to leave, to put as much distance as possible between himself and this monster. He didn't care why such a thing existed; the world had changed so much that even the appearance of a deity wouldn't have shocked him. He had stumbled upon it while hunting the private soldiers, and he was fortunate to have approached quietly.

Suddenly, just as he began to crawl away, Liang Jing stopped. He noticed something curious. The creature’s movements were unnatural; its eyes were half-closed, fixed upon a massive nest high on the cliff face. Were its offspring inside?

Liang Jing’s eyes lit up. He was tempted.

But that wasn't the only reason he hesitated. As the creature lay with its wings spread, his sensitive nose caught the metallic tang of blood. He looked closer.

Sure enough, there was a large pool of blood beneath it.

*It’s injured!*

Seeing this, Liang Jing could not bring himself to leave. Despite the overwhelming pressure the beast exerted, the prospect of its offspring and the opportunity to strike at a wounded, potentially immobile apex predator was too great a temptation.

It was a risk worth taking.