Alone in a desolate wilderness—had I run into some catastrophe?

  Who was I?

  Where was this?

  I couldn’t remember!

  But that wasn’t the worst part—just thirty meters ahead, a pack of wolves burst from the forest edge!

  One glance and it was obvious—they were coming for me!

  They’d chosen the perfect moment: I was stuck beside a rushing river, with no room to retreat. So they decided to come at me full force—every last one of them.

  Soon I’d be...

  I was furious.

  You mangy mutts... you’re all just Chihuahuas, aren’t you!?

  Bold fiends—daring to masquerade as fearsome wolves?! Reveal your true form before me at once!

  Or maybe... maybe I should just scream like a lunatic? Anything... anything at all...

  Could you just act like Chihuahuas? Please... I’m begging you...

  Judging by the surroundings, I must’ve been somewhere in the middle to upper reaches of a riverbank—rocks of all shapes and sizes scattered about.

  I wore a light travel outfit. Carried one cane, one knife, and one umbrella. Plus bubble gum—some in my mouth, some in my pocket.

  Just seconds ago, I’d been pressed up against the right bank of this very river, making my way downstream at speed, eyes locked on the water.

  I was searching for something. Something important enough that I risked slipping and being swept away—just to follow the current.

  To make matters worse, the sun was dipping fast—maybe only thirty minutes left before it vanished behind the hills.

  By all rights, I should’ve already picked out a place to camp for the night—ideally somewhere safe and relatively comfortable.

  If possible, I’d have foraged a bit along the way, stocked up on something to eat, and gotten ready to face the wild night ahead.

  Scouting out a proper sleeping spot would take serious effort—might cost me a good chunk of time.

  But it would’ve guaranteed at least some real rest, maybe even kept me from getting chewed up by bugs or beasts. Staying alive came first.

  Sleep was vital—for restoring both mind and body. And tomorrow’s actions would all hinge on today’s decisions...

  But of course, there was no time to think about any of that now—

  Wolves! Charging straight at me, big ones too! No doubt about their target.

  They sprang out as if by sleight of hand—bursting from shrubs, shadows, and anywhere else they could squeeze through.

  At least ten of them by now?

  Wait—more were coming!

  There had to be a magician hiding somewhere in that forest, conjuring up this whole swarm of Chihuahuas!

  You’re supposed to summon doves—not Chihuahuas of similar size!

  Fine... time to face reality.

  What now?

  Water escape—there’s a stream right here! I could just jump in—

  No, that’d be suicide!

  What if I got caught in a whirlpool, tossed around like laundry in a spin cycle?

  Even if I somehow washed ashore in one piece, I might be unconscious—or dead.

  And even then, there’s no guarantee the river would shake off this pack... or whatever else might be waiting.

  Rivers, after all, were prime watering holes. All sorts of creatures came to drink here.

  Jumping into the rapids... and then what?

  Even if I managed to swim ashore without passing out, I’d still be stuck facing hypothermia and a pitch-black wilderness night!

  And with my clothes soaked and most of my gear lost in the current, I’d be in an absolute survival crisis!

  Worse still—I had no fire starter. Lighting a flame from scratch in total darkness? That takes a seasoned survivalist.

  In short, water escape wasn’t just a bad plan—it wasn’t even a plan. Absolutely out of the question!

  Then... what about a riverfront standoff?

  Back to the water, facing the wolves head-on.

  At first glance, it sounded plausible. But in truth, it was likely just as awful.

  Let’s say, for argument’s sake, I didn’t slip and get swept away.

  Let’s say nothing deadly slithered out from behind me in the river.

  But what about after nightfall?

  They’d be hidden, I’d be exposed—with no light source, no torch, how would I hold my ground?

  And they had numbers. They could rotate shifts. Wear me down.

  I was alone.

  Besides, I saw no rocks jutting far enough out of the current to serve as stepping stones.

  Even if there were any, jumping onto one might just send me slipping straight into the river!

  Another plan—thrown into the pile of “worse than bad.”

  In a split-second assessment, I’d already figured out the best course of action.

  Step one: snatch a stone—just big enough to throw—and launch it to disrupt their charge.

  This area was mostly covered with larger stones and boulders, but I managed to pry out a few usable fragments.

  Gripping a knife in one hand and my cane in the other, I charged the wolves!

  I had to charge.

  Distance and speed—both were critical to survival!

  The stones I’d thrown scattered across the ground, and combined with my sudden rush, caused some of them to hesitate in confusion.

  “Seize the initiative!” I shouted internally—to pump myself up.

  But now the flanks and rear elements of the pack were spreading out, curling in from both sides.

  Damn it! They clearly knew how to coordinate. I’d be surrounded any second now!

  Still, I had one move of my own: the “grit-your-teeth-and-charge” technique—a wall-breaking maneuver.

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  From deep in my mind, scenes bubbled up—field drills, obstacle courses, wild sprints.

  Something in me knew: in times of crisis, you go full throttle—charge, slash, break through!

  The leader of the pack up ahead let out a low growl, baring its vicious, contorted face, fangs gleaming.

  Its long fur shimmered in layered hues—like agate and amber—unnaturally vivid and wild.

  I couldn’t help but think: this thing looked like one of those massive wolves that roamed the Siberian tundra!

  “Back off, Chihuahuas!” I roared—

  Trying to use words to overwrite what my eyes were telling me: they’re just Chihuahuas... posturing.

  Because if I didn’t keep up that internal illusion, my rational mind would start to collapse.

  And once that broke down...

  Just before we collided, I swung first—cane and knife slashing out to force open a path!

  Though they tried to close in, they still managed to dodge with eerie precision—

  Tch! Yet again—they’re damn skilled!

  This damn Chihuahua battalion... “You’re getting way too cocky!”

  My charge was slowed, but the pause gave my legs more room to maneuver.

  I lifted a foot and kicked up stones—some pebbles, some grit—toward the enemy.

  The real purpose behind this move? Add variety to my attacks, force them into wariness and hesitation.

  “Yes! That’s an unpredictable bounce!”

  One of the larger rocks actually delivered that effect perfectly.

  I took advantage of the uneven terrain—the dips and rises shaped by larger stones—to weave forward.

  Those big rocks might even help stall the ones flanking and tailing me.

  Up front, I relied on my weapons to smash open a path. So far, it was working.

  Inches gained. Then feet. Step by step...

  They were holding back a little, uncertain of my true strength.

  But they still kept tight spacing, clearly intending to box me in.

  Their likely tactic: close in just enough—then pounce the moment I stepped within biting range.

  Once they sank their teeth in, they’d clamp down hard, then yank backward to tear and restrain their prey.

  Even if the prey broke free, the damage could still be brutal—muscles torn, veins ripped open, bleeding out.

  And once enough of them latched on, movement would be restricted, leaving the prey open to an all-out assault from every direction.

  Or they could simply drag it out—bleed the target slowly, wait until it was too weak to struggle.

  That meant—don’t get bitten. Period.

  I couldn’t let them fully surround me. I had to keep them at a distance.

  Given the size difference, even a single wolf clamped onto one leg could nearly immobilize me.

  Once that happened, and the others swarmed in—game over.

  I had zero margin for error. I had to keep swinging, slashing wildly to force them back.

  Keep them away. Don’t let them bite.

  And above all—keep forging forward.

  It was like hacking a path through towering razorgrass, machete swinging nonstop. You couldn’t speed up, and every stroke risked a cut.

  I occasionally kicked up dirt and stones—at first, it worked as a faint.

  But the ground held few loose pebbles. Most of the time, there was barely anything to kick.

  They caught on quick—realized the move had no real threat behind it.

  No more than ten seconds had passed—before an even greater crisis closed in!

  The wolves from the flanks and rear were tightening the circle—pressing in hard!

  There were no more tall, jagged rocks to serve as makeshift walls to ease the pressure.

  One especially cocky Chihuahua even clambered onto a front-facing rock—standing there like it was surveying the battlefield!

  Was it planning to leap at me the moment I got close? Like I’d be dumb enough to walk right into that!

  The glow from the setting sun—off to my right and slightly behind—was at least causing some visual disruption for these light-sensitive beasts.

  I’d accounted for that. That’s why I slightly lowered my guard toward the left—the side bathed in frontal light.

  As for the right—my knife hand—its blade was angled just so, catching the amber twilight and reflecting it straight into their eyes.

  Not only did the glint disrupt their sight, the flicker of cold steel made them flinch—hesitating to close in.

  But now—the danger was rising from behind as well!

  They were here! The rear had closed in too!

  They were going for my legs—I could barely defend my backside!

  “No problem—”

  Because I had already planned for this.

  Time to deploy my hidden move—

  The umbrella!

  With a snap, I flung open the orange canopy—like a giant shape suddenly bursting out behind me! It startled them instantly!

  It mimicked what humans do when encountering bears on a mountain trail—arms stretched out wide, coat flared like wings, to appear bigger.

  Then, I spun the umbrella backward, sweeping at the wolves creeping in from the flanks and rear—now just a breath away.

  And in that fleeting instant—while they reeled in shock and hesitation—

  I surged forward with everything I had!

  I had to be careful not to swing the umbrella too hard, though—any more force and the shaft might snap.

  And I still needed that umbrella—later, for survival, to block wind and rain...

  But for now, this was life and death.

  Right now, the only thing that mattered—

  Was not getting torn apart. Not even a scratch.

  Because if I got injured, there would be no “later” to speak of!