Chapter Twenty-Nine

Continuing to grab the tree was pointless. Cheng Yuan quickly thought of using the simulation dungeon. A few minutes later, he glanced at his chest again—once more, he had been impaled. Yet this time, Cheng Yuan saw hope. The little tiger could already parry attacks—or rather, "parry with its claws." In mutual assaults, it was not at a disadvantage. If not for the overwhelming strength of the adult tier and the fact that the little tiger’s claws were several centimeters shorter than the blade-clawed skeleton’s, the tiger might genuinely have had a chance to win.

The little tiger gazed angrily at its own claws, finally realizing the advantage of longer reach. But besides that, there were obvious disadvantages. Its margin for error was too low. Facing certain attacks, the adult tier didn’t even bother to dodge; it simply fought head-on, risking bloodshed without care. For the little tiger, every attack from the blade-clawed skeleton was like dancing on a tightrope—brushing against it meant injury, making direct contact meant death. Its margin for error was simply too small.

For the blade-clawed skeleton, on the other hand, its claws—over a dozen centimeters long—allowed it to keep its distance. With adult-tier bones and the undead’s lack of pain, its tolerance for mistakes was frighteningly high. The gap was like Jerry wielding a tiny dagger against undead Tom with two cleavers; the difference was obvious.

Yet when Cheng Yuan opened the little tiger’s status panel, he found that this match had yielded obvious gains. Monsters here often advanced faster through frequent combat than those who rarely fought. Though this world had its own hawk-dove dynamics, the strong had more access to resources, and the “evolution” bug made the strong grow stronger while the weak grew weaker—a siphoning effect.

Just one life-or-death battle against a superior foe pushed the tiger’s Piercing Claw skill straight to level three—two leaps in one go, astonishing progress. This was natural; mistakes in such battles often led to brutal lessons. Clumsy skills would be swiftly corrected amid intense combat, much faster than leisurely training—like a strict teacher whipping you into shape, forcing you to correct errors quickly: “You must live to use it next time.”

Cheng Yuan checked the Blade Claw skill book and found the little tiger’s compatibility had risen to 40%. He glanced at the little tiger, still brooding over its death caused by his own error. “Want to try again?” he asked. There was no denying it—the little tiger’s combat was thrilling, fully utilizing its feline speed and agility.

It felt like a master of hand speed challenging some unknown, high-difficulty boss; the only problem was the vast disparity in strength.

The little tiger’s eyes brightened. “Sure.” The Barbarian Marsh Lizard hung from a tree nearby, watching the match with growing longing. Yet unlike the tiger’s innate refusal to accept defeat, the lizard possessed a more rational attitude—unable to win now, but perhaps later.

The second time, the little tiger lasted even longer. Watching the collision of bone and golden light before him, Cheng Yuan furrowed his brow, sensing there was a better solution. As the little tiger blocked one of the skeleton’s downward strikes with both claws, Cheng Yuan noticed the other claw, raised high but angled differently.

Recalling several battle routines he’d witnessed, he decided to try something. “Retreat three steps.” The little tiger obeyed, though confused, swiftly backing away. Once in position, the skeleton launched three consecutive lateral slashes—the last brushing against the tiger’s fur.

Anticipation! Or rather, the tiger was beginning to learn the monster’s fighting style. Cheng Yuan finally understood the true purpose of a trainer. “My commands will be more unpredictable from now on. Listen closely.”

The little tiger howled in acknowledgment, then turned to resume battle. From then on, Cheng Yuan felt as if he were playing some auto-battle game—he only needed to call out key actions at critical moments to reduce incoming damage. Unfortunately, the simulation dungeon didn’t display health bars, making it hard to gauge the enemy’s condition.

After some time, the little tiger panted, tongue lolling, eyes locked on the monster while still listening for Cheng Yuan’s commands. The relentless, tense combat had kept the tiger fighting for much longer than it realized. Just then, Cheng Yuan said, “Side roll, then circle behind and see if you can bite it.”

The little tiger immediately rolled aside; the bone claw smashed down, leaving a deep mark on the ground. As the tiger tried to circle behind, it suddenly stumbled, falling forward—a small slip, but enough for Cheng Yuan to realize trouble was brewing.

He saw the little tiger rising and repositioning, and looked at the remaining ten meters or so. “Too late.” Sure enough, in the next instant, the bone claw severed the tiger at the waist, ending the simulation in failure.

A minute later, Cheng Yuan regarded his chest with a complicated expression. He’d tried to dodge the skeleton’s attacks, easily avoiding the deadliest, most frequent triple strike. But, feeling overconfident, he failed to avoid a skill and was instantly executed.

The little tiger panted heavily, exhausted by the prolonged, intense combat. It walked a few steps toward Cheng Yuan and collapsed on him, mewling softly. Cheng Yuan looked at the little tiger, so fatigued its wind could barely stir the air, and knew it was spent.

He gently patted its back, then picked it up—while he still could. In a few months, it would likely be too heavy to carry. The Barbarian Marsh Lizard deftly climbed onto Cheng Yuan's back. They reached the bus stop, where Cheng Yuan checked his phone—nearly forty minutes of battle. Counting previous fights, they’d spent an hour in the simulation dungeon.

He glanced at the tiger’s skill panel—Piercing Claw had advanced rapidly, now at level six. Cheng Yuan had a hunch: with this pace, three sessions a day, the little tiger could max out its species-exclusive divine skill before the monthly combat assessment against Wang Ningning.

There would likely be a level cap, but it’d be enough to reach level twelve. With a level twelve maxed Piercing Claw, Cheng Yuan couldn’t imagine how he could lose.

Another thought crossed his mind: since the damage was enough to challenge the adult tier, why not try out those six repeaters—if they couldn’t win, at least they’d experience their opponents’ fighting styles.

Just then, the bus arrived. Cheng Yuan expertly took out his card—“Beep, student card.” He walked to a seat, too mentally fatigued to notice something odd: the driver’s rearview mirror faced forward, and some decorations on the bus were unusually bright red, with a strange scent in the air.

Cradling the little tiger, with the Barbarian Marsh Lizard crawling on him, Cheng Yuan headed home from the suburbs—a journey of over an hour, just enough for a little nap. ZZZ