NOVEL NEXT Chapter 799 Sahara Camel Calves
The earth was scorched a reddish color, the plants grew listlessly, and the air quivered and twisted like a nest of serpents, as the tall camels mechanically chewed on water-starved shrubs, such a scene seemingly persisted for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.
If Nemo Point gave the impression of pure white and azure, filled with the smell of the sea,
then the Sahara was a striking bright yellow, both the sky and the land alike, the smell even more so reminiscent of parched earth.
In such extreme environments, it seemed that colors were so monochromatic.
Bi Fang had also become a member of this vivid color scheme.
He was crawling, his shoulder blades rising and falling, his muscles moving in coordination like flowing water, resembling a bright yellow tiger inching closer to the mighty camel that towered over two meters.
Color, movement, atmosphere, all perfectly blended into the environment.
If it weren't for the detailed view provided by the drone, perhaps no one could discern where Bi Fang was at first glance.
Bi Fang's gaze was fixed on the grazing camel; in his hand, he clutched a rope as thick as a finger, nearly without any disturbance, he approached within thirty meters.
Bi Fang began to adjust his breathing and muscle status.
The air was silently inhaled, his chest heaving, a vast exchange taking place, the oxygen content in his blood steadily increasing, as if awakening from slumber.
The audience's tension also climbed at this moment, their hands and feet unconsciously clenching.
Rising slowly from a prone position, Bi Fang planted his limbs on the ground, pressing low, making the final approach.
Approaching prey involved many phases, from preparation to proximity, until after narrowing the gap to a certain distance, one could proceed with a more rough approach.
At this range, no matter how crude the technique, detection was highly probable; it was more about luck than skill, the cost-effectiveness of crawling closer began to decline.
Maintaining his status while slightly speeding up the distance, much like the preliminary run in a relay race.
Now, it depended on the prey's level of alertness—less alertness naturally meant good luck for the hunter, and if not, they had exerted their best effort. Whether they could dine depended on the will of heaven.
Clearly, Bi Fang's luck was good.
Adult male camels could practically be considered without natural predators; furthermore, having already endured a round of hunting, they were exhausted in body and spirit, with their vigilance at its lowest.
Bi Fang had actually closed another five meters!
The audience nearly held their breath, exclaiming with excitement.
Too close.
Close to a terrifying extent, almost as if a glaring lamp was shining directly on the camel's head.
At this point, even the camel, however thick-skinned or weary it was, sensed something amiss.
Yet twenty-five meters was practically at arm's length!
Camels were fast, easily capable of exceeding forty kilometers an hour, but their weight was also substantial.
The greater the mass, the larger the inertia—a fact known even to middle school students.
In other words, slow to start!
Bi Fang charged out!
The sand and gravel beneath his feet grated and shattered, nearly turning into an afterimage.
The tightly drawn bowstring was finally released, as if in the moment before the camel began to flee, the distance between them had already closed within twenty meters.
Bi Fang's run carried an astonishing springiness, matched with his breath expanding and contracting, agile like a cheetah. The full tension of his body rapidly shrank the spatial dimensions, the audience couldn't help but stand on their toes, as if they were running across the desert themselves.
The chase began, yet the distance continued to close relentlessly.
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This behemoth, weighing over half a ton and needing at least two seconds to accelerate to forty kilometers per hour, had given Bi Fang more than enough time to do too much. At the moment their speeds were even and the gap was about to widen, they were less than five meters apart.
Bi Fang immediately threw the reinforced lasso in his hand, which traced an arc in the air, and just as it was about to fly over the camel's head, he yanked it back fiercely.
Due to inertia, the rope stretched taut, creating a temporary elasticity, and the air echoed with the shrill hiss of a whip cutting through it.
The noose, widened by branches, was recaptured, precisely looping around the camel's long neck!
Got it!
The audience erupted in cheers, barely able to restrain their joy.
Bi Fang showed no elation at his success; lassoing the camel was just the beginning.
The moment the camel was ensnared, a tremendous force transmitted through Bi Fang's arm, nearly yanking him off his feet, but fortunately, he steadied himself in time.
For the first few seconds, Bi Fang tried to keep pace with the camel, but he quickly gave up; it was impossible. He ended up being dragged along by the camel.
In just over ten seconds, from the lassoing to being dragged, the audience's emotions were like a roller coaster, wave after wave, irresistible.
Bi Fang lay on his back, bracing himself against the ground with his feet, forming a slanted triangle with the high speed brought on by the camel.
Two long tracks were dragged across the desert, with the friction between the sand and his shoe soles producing an astonishing heat, giving off a faint rubbery, burnt smell.
Bi Fang wound the rope tightly around his arm, clutching the rope to slowly narrow the distance between himself and the camel.
Over the vast desert, the camel ran along the Red Land.
The setting sun cast long shadows as the ground shook slightly. A billowing cloud of dust rose behind man and camel, like a dragon of the land.
The ground under his feet became softer, meaning there were more sands – the camel was running towards the heart of the Sahara, trying to use the terrain to wear down its predator; it was their tried and true trick.
The already short distance, with the shortening of the rope, was swiftly diminished until Bi Fang could clearly see the camel's flying hooves.
If one of those camel hooves, bigger than a human head, landed on his head, Bi Fang had no doubt it would burst open like a watermelon.
Now was the most critical moment. Bi Fang loosened some of the rope from his arms, leaving just a small section wrapped around his hand to prevent an accident from rolling him under the camel, turning him into a pile of mush.
Then Bi Fang began to adjust his posture, switching from facing head-on towards the camel to facing it with his feet.
Although it was just a simple change of direction, it greatly enhanced his vision, giving him far more initiative.
Next, Bi Fang began to look for an opportunity. At this point, the camel's butt was less than a meter in front of him, bobbing up and down.
For now, the camel's legs could not kick him, but if it made a sudden stop and then kicked, it would almost certainly be a hit; he could not give it that chance, nor could he let it realize there was such an opportunity.
There was no time to hesitate. Bi Fang's leg muscles tensed up and then he swiftly leapt up from the ground, kicking directly into the camel's butt, finally tensing his body!
Man, camel, rope.
The three combined like a longbow, with the man and camel as the bow arms and the rope as the bowstring, forming a stable triangle.
But as Bi Fang stamped on the camel's butt and straightened his body to forcefully pull the rope, the fragile balance was violently broken.
The great bow was forcefully drawn open!
[Holy shit! Awesome!]
[Unbeatably strong!]
The live comments were filled with exclamations.
The camel's long neck was suddenly bent sideways, its gaze forcibly shifted, and it could no longer control its balance, the massive body toppling over to one side.
Boom.
A huge amount of sand and stones were splattered, the air filled with stifling dust, and Bi Fang too was engulfed in it, disappearing from sight.
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