Warden of the Beast World: Everyone is a Hakimi

Ye Tang rummaged through a pile of supplies and pulled out a brand-new outdoor survival knife, a windproof lighter, and a complete set of portable seasoning boxes.

"Grandma," Ye Tang said, clutching the knife and lighter, her voice trembling, "you still love me."

Ye Tang smiled and began to prepare the rabbit. With the tools, she was there for a picnic.

Skinning, removing the internal organs, and washing—the well water was clear and sweet, and the rabbit meat came out clean. It seems that Ye Tang has used up all her talent and skills in cooking.

After processing the rabbit meat, she gathered some dry branches and piled them up. She lit a fire with a windproof lighter, and the orange-red flames licked the dry leaves, quickly crackling and burning. She cut the rabbit meat into small pieces, skewered them on sharpened branches, and slowly roasted them over the fire.

She sprinkled salt, pepper, cumin, and chili powder on top in turn. The moment the spices met the hot oil, the domineering aroma exploded, becoming much stronger than before.

The rabbit meat is roasted to a crispy exterior and tender interior, with a slight sheen of oil on the surface. One bite releases a burst of juice, and the flavor of the seasoning seeps into every fiber.

Ye Tang sat by the fire, flipping a sizzling rabbit meat skewer in her hand, and happily sprinkling the last bit of chili powder on it.

The spices, when they come into contact with the scalding oil, release a powerful and rich aroma that, mixed with the smoky scent of burning firewood, permeates the forest.

She took a big bite herself; the rabbit meat was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, the juices bursting in her mouth, the spiciness and cumin aroma hitting her head. Ye Tang squinted her eyes and let out a satisfied sigh, feeling that all the takeout she had ever ordered in her past life combined couldn't compare to this bite.

She wrapped the remaining half of the rabbit meat in a clean, large leaf, placed it on the stone beside her, and continued grilling the last skewer in her hand. Flames licked the surface of the rabbit meat, the oil dripping down with a sizzling sound, and the aroma wafted around in waves.

The aroma of spices, never before seen on this continent, was carried by the forest breeze deeper into the woods.

The hunter ran wildly through the dense forest.

He remained in his beast form, on all fours, his silver-gray wolf claws treading over withered branches and decaying leaves with such speed that only a blur remained. Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the tree canopy, illuminating his silver-gray fur with a cold, metallic sheen.

But he was in very poor condition.

It felt as if countless red-hot iron needles were piercing his mental realm, each heartbeat accompanied by a tearing pain. His vision began to blur intermittently, and his reason, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, was on the verge of snapping.

He knew this was a sign that his mental strength was on the verge of collapse. Once he crossed that line, he would become a completely ruthless, berserk beastman, until he died from exhaustion or was executed by his own people.

Imperial regulations stipulated that anyone whose mental breakdown value exceeded seventy must undergo mandatory reassurance. Yet, he stubbornly endured it from seventy to eighty-four.

He didn't want the comfort from the females.

The noblewomen arranged for him by the Imperial Military and his mother were all exceptionally elegant and graceful, each more gentle and poised than the last. But Ghost Hunter could see something deep in their eyes—the look of someone eyeing spoils of war.

The S-class combat power of Major General Canglang, the youngest general in the entire empire—who wouldn't want to add this title to their list of beast husbands? When they looked at him, a smile played on their lips, but their eyes were full of calculation, as if they were assessing the value of a commodity.

That look disgusted him.

So he preferred to run away to Prison Zero. His old superior, Marshal Jing Yao of the Third Legion of the Empire, was imprisoned there.

The marshal's mental breakdown threshold had already exceeded the warning line three years ago, but he refused to accept any comfort from females and was eventually imprisoned in Prison Zero by the military under the guise of "protective detention." Ghost Hunter felt that place suited him quite well. At least there, no one would look at him that way.

He set off from the Northern Territory three days ago, traversing the Wolf Fang Mountains, crossing the Luochuan Plain, and entering this primeval forest. Prison Zero is located in the valley at the edge of the forest. At his speed, he should arrive before dawn today.

But what he didn't expect was that less than fifty kilometers from Prison Zero, he would smell an odor that would bring him to an abrupt halt.

It smells like meat. But it's not just any ordinary meat smell.

Youlie had eaten countless roasted meats on the battlefield. During forced marches, the soldiers would use whatever they could find: catch the game, skin it, and roast it over a fire. The resulting meat was simply cooked, edible, but nothing fancy.

But the aroma that entered his nostrils at this moment was completely different—a strange, pungent fragrance mixed with the aroma of burnt oil, spicy with the freshness of herbs and trees, and taking a breath felt like being captivated by something.

His steps slowed involuntarily, and he inhaled deeply through his nose. The fragrance exploded on his olfactory nerves, and even the churning pain in his mental domain seemed to be temporarily suppressed.

Ghost Hunter stood rooted to the spot. Reason told him he should keep going; Prison Zero was just ahead. But his four paws seemed nailed to the ground; he couldn't take another step.

He was thrown onto the battlefield as soon as he was able to transform into beast form. He had faced life and death on the battlefield for so many years and never felt that he owed anything. But at this moment, he suddenly felt that he had really mistreated his tongue in his life.

It struggled for three seconds.

Ghost Hunter made a decision that even he found outrageous: he changed direction and silently crept over, following the scent.

His bottom line is that no one can see his face. A major general of the Third Legion of the Empire, an S-class combatant of the Canglang Clan who appears only once in a century, a tactical genius whose work is written into the textbooks of the Imperial Military Academy, sneaking into the forest for a piece of roasted meat—if this gets out, how will he be able to give orders in the military?

So he completely abandoned his human form and transformed into a beast, becoming a huge silver-gray wolf.

In this form, even if he were seen, no one would associate him with the Imperial Major General, Ghost Hunter. At most... he's just a slightly larger wolf.

He concealed all his fierce aura and moved through the forest like a ghost, finally stopping behind a thicket of bushes.

Through the gaps in the bushes, he saw the scene around the fire.

A thin, small female squatted by the fire, her hair casually tied back. She wore a faded old dress, a scrape on her knee, and several black marks on her ashen face. She looked extremely disheveled, like a small animal soaked by the rain.

But her eyes were incredibly bright, her lips were greasy, and she was eating with her eyes crinkling, her face radiating satisfaction.

On the rock beside her lay a package of roasted rabbit meat, wrapped in leaves and glistening with oil.

Ghost Hunter's gaze locked onto the package of rabbit meat, and his throat involuntarily gulped.

Is it shameful? Yes, it is. But should he save face or save his pride? He, Youlie, has never done anything wrong in his life, so he's going all out today.

The next second, a silver-gray shadow suddenly darted out from the bushes.

As Ye Tang was turning over the last skewer of rabbit meat, she caught a glimpse of a huge gray shadow rushing towards her at incredible speed.

Before she could react, the shadow swept past her, snatched the bag of rabbit meat from the rock, and landed three steps away, letting out a low whimper.

The entire process happened in the blink of an eye, taking no more than two seconds.