The Evolutionary Path of the Lion

Chapter 79 A Terrifying Sense of Oppression

"The aura mark at the bend." Kaller rested his elbows on his knees, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice. "I want to make that clear in the report."

Ella's pen paused on the paper, the ink spreading out in a small circle. She raised her eyelids slightly. "I've already written it in. Unknown entity, eastern bend, residual scent imprint, no corresponding living scent, no abnormalities detected in the surrounding area during thermal imaging."

"I'd like to add a sentence." Kaller tapped his fingers on his knee.

Ella looked up, her gaze sweeping over him from behind her glasses, the pen still hovering over the paper. "What did you say?"

Kaller pursed his lips, remained silent for two seconds, and then said in a voice as deep as stone, "The aura tracking has completely failed."

The tent fell silent instantly, save for the hum of the ceiling fan. The wind outside suddenly picked up, whipping up dust that swept across the campsite and etched a deep crease into the tent fabric. The canvas rubbed against the frame, making a soft pattering sound, like someone gently tapping on the tent from the outside.

"Write this in the official report," Ella said, slamming her pen down on the table, the cap clicking softly. "They'll be pressing for an explanation of why it failed."

"The reason for the failure is that there is no odor to trace." Kaller frowned.

"No scent can be traced. What's the cause?" Ella leaned forward slightly, looking into his eyes. "Equipment malfunction? Animals actively avoiding scent diffusion? Or...?"

"It just vanished into thin air!" Kaller interrupted her, blurting out the unspoken sentence, "Ella, when you crouched down at the bend, your fingers touched that blade of grass. You know that mark is real, made by a living creature, not by the wind, not by some other animal rubbing against it. But the thermal imaging scanned it three times, within a radius of 500 meters, and there was nothing there."

"Electronic olfactometers, multimodal life detectors, and acoustic life detectors also detected nothing!"

Ella slammed the notebook shut, her hands resting on the cover, her knuckles slightly white. "I know."

"Then you know this isn't a equipment malfunction." Kaller's voice was tinged with urgency.

“I know this isn’t equipment failure,” Ella’s voice was as flat as the desert outside the tent. “But if I write in the report, ‘Scent tracking has completely failed, cause unknown,’ Kenneth will bring that up at the internal evaluation meeting, question it word for word, and then propose cutting the budget for the next phase, arguing that there is a systematic error in our judgment of the direction of progress.”

Kaller pursed his lips and didn't say anything more, his fingers unconsciously stroking the body of the kettle.

"It's not that I don't want to write it." Ella reopened her notebook, her pen hovering over the paper. "I'm thinking about how to write it so that this sentence will stand up in the report."

Kaller stared at her for a moment, then slowly stood up, bent down to pick up the water bottle from the ground, and said, "Tell me when you've thought it through."

He reached out and lifted the tent flap, the coolness of the canvas brushing against his fingertips. Before stepping out, he suddenly stopped, turned back, and called out, "Ella."

"Mmm," Ella responded, her gaze still fixed on the screen.

"That bend," his voice came through the tent flap, tinged with melancholy, "make sure you capture those last three seconds of the recording."

The tent door clicked shut, and footsteps echoed across the gravel, slowly fading into the distance and disappearing into the cicada's song. Ella stared at the few lines of text in her notebook for a long time, then, holding the pen, she slowly wrote the words "Scent tracking completely ineffective" on the paper. The ink gradually spread, and she then drew a bracket next to it, neatly writing three words inside: "Pending confirmation."

She closed her notebook, tapped her fingers on the keyboard of the satellite communication device, reopened the report document, and continued writing. The sound of the keyboard clicking echoed in the tent once again.

Outside the tent, Kale sat down on a folding chair at the edge of the camp. The warm prairie wind blew across his forehead. He took out his personal notebook from his pocket, flipped open the leather cover with his fingertips, turned to the latest page, and wrote a line heavily in pen below today's date.

Breath tracking has completely failed. The cause is unknown. It is not a device malfunction.

He closed his notebook, tucked his pen back into his pocket, and gazed beyond the camp's barbed wire fence towards the eastern hunting grounds. There, the grass rippled like waves, as if something was surging beneath. He sat in the chair for a long time, until the sun began to set. The wind on the grassland grew stronger, pushing the grass at the edge of the hunting grounds into rolling arcs, carrying the scent of sand and dust that stung his face. There seemed to be nothing there, yet a strange, terrifying sense of oppression seemed to be everywhere.

The upstream direction was northwest, and the wind was blowing from there, carrying a bit of moisture. Chen Fei stood on the earthen slope at the edge of his landing spot for a moment, sniffing the wind to confirm it was from the northwest and there was no other smell. Then he turned and walked steadily upstream. He didn't call out to anyone; the pride of lions behind him remained in their positions, and no one followed.

Meimei lay prone in the shade of a tree on the west side. Seeing him about to leave, she looked up briefly and pressed her ear forward. Chen Fei pointed with his chin towards the grass on the west side, indicating she should stay there. She immediately lowered her head, rubbed her paws, and didn't ask any further questions. Stray A lay upright in the grass to the southeast, like a stone pressed against the ground. Seeing Chen Fei walk alone to the northwest, it simply turned its body slightly, adjusted its sentry position, and continued to vigilantly watch ahead.

Big Head was lying next to Sair, gnawing on a piece of dried skin. Seeing Chen Fei set off alone, he immediately raised his head, kicked his rear end back, and tried to follow. Chen Fei glanced back at him, his eyes calm but carrying an undeniable air of authority. Big Head immediately pressed his ears back, sat back down on the ground, lowered his head, and pretended to continue gnawing on the dried skin.

The river hadn't fully entered the dry season yet, retaining two-thirds of its water volume. The water flowed with a "whoosh," carrying a damp, earthy smell. The vegetation along the banks was much denser than in the hunting grounds. Reeds taller than a person and low shrubs intertwined, pressing the riverbank into a narrow strip of emerald green. From above, it looked like someone had drawn a straight line with a green pen on the withered yellow grassland. Chen Fei walked along the soft muddy riverbank, his hooves making almost no sound as he stepped on it, his footsteps extremely light, like a shadow flitting by.

The territory of the upstream lion pride begins at a triangular sandbar in the middle of the river and extends about twelve kilometers northwest.

They had no fixed place to stay, always moving with the seasons and their prey, but that sandbar was a necessary stop. It had all three advantages: abundant water, a commanding position, and a dense array of scent markers, making it their transit hub.