King of the Wilderness

”If the water level in Weeping Valley is too high, we’ll have to take this route and bypass it via the Gravel Slope. Although it’s an extra five kilometers, it’s safer. We need to be prepared for all scenarios.”

Lin Yu’an listened silently, engraving every word of the two elders’ rich experiences into his memory. His main task was logistics support and mid-range defense.

He meticulously checked their equipment list, which in itself was a paragon of professionalism.

Three lightweight alpine tents, three down sleeping bags rated to minus fifteen degrees, a high-magnification Leica scope, capable of seeing the growth rings on a horn one kilometer away.

Also, a portable water purifier, a small iron pot, a satellite phone, high-calorie dehydrated food, and a professional first-aid kit sufficient to handle any sudden trauma.

”Do we have enough food? At high altitudes, the body burns twice the calories as usual.”

Stan checked the food pack that Lin Yu’an had prepared, which included energy bars, beef jerky, and freeze-dried dinners specially made for high altitudes.

”Don’t worry, Stan, it’s enough for us for seven days. I even brought coffee, ensuring you can have a hot drink at the summit,” Lin Yu’an replied with a smile.

With the equipment inventory complete, the three of them showcased their weapons, perfectly reflecting their roles and characters.

Old George carefully took out his cherished Remington Model 700 Rifle from its gun bag.

It’s a true old friend, with a walnut stock polished smooth by time, adorned with small V-shaped engravings, each representing a successful hunt.

He attached a top-notch Swarovski scope to the Remington Model 700 Rifle and gently wiped it with a piece of deer hide, his gaze tender as if caressing his own child.

Stan’s style was entirely different, brimming with Alaskan ruggedness and pragmatism.

With a click, he undid the clasp of the massive leather holster slung across his chest, revealing a gleaming handgun, the Ruger Super Redhawk ”Alaskan.”

Although its barrel was extremely short, making it exceptionally compact, the massive body and hefty cylinder silently declared its capability to house terrifying ammunition like the .44 Magnum.

This wasn’t a gun meant for long-range hunting but a purely close-range anti-bear gun.

As he loaded six heavy hollow-point rounds into the cylinder, Stan said in a deep voice, ”In the thicket, this is more useful than a rifle.”

And Lin Yu’an had his newly purchased Mossberg 590A1, entirely black and exuding a modern tactical style, forming a sharp contrast with Old George’s classic wooden firearm.

”Hey, kid, your big guy looks great but isn’t exactly light,” Stan said, pointing at Lin Yu’an’s shotgun.

Lin Yu’an patted the gun’s body: ”George is in charge of long range, you handle the big guys up close, and I’ll take care of the little ones in the sky, adding some wild flavors to our dinner!”

His words brought a good-natured laugh from the two elders.

Old George walked over, gave Lin Yu’an a strong pat on the shoulder, his eyes full of expectations and satisfaction: ”Kid, are you ready to experience the real Alaska?”

”It’s not the scenery seen on TV, but something you measure with your feet, feel with your breath, and even... revere with your life.”

Lin Yu’an expressed that this was indeed the life he longed for! The two elders laughed again warmly, seemingly also looking forward to his performance.

Two days later, they ventured deep into the treacherous heart of the Brooks Range.

Everything here was completely different from the civilized world—no roads, no signals, only endless mountains, rushing glacial rivers, and slippery tundra underfoot.

The first day’s fifteen-kilometer trek was a tough introduction for Lin Yu’an.

Carrying a twenty-five kilogram backpack, walking on what looked like flat but deceptively pitted tundra, each step required immense physical exertion.

But Lin Yu’an’s fortified physique allowed him not only to keep pace but even to have the strength to scout ahead of the team.

This completely put at ease the previously worried Stan and George.

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(Here they come! Waiting forever for image approval! Missed single-day ticket champion yesterday...)