Smack!

The tyrant sloth was surprised when it was unable to reach Lem’s simulated self.

Its arm was stopped, and its entire body was jerked in mid-air.

The fist had halted it like a blow from a sledge hammer. The vibrational force of the [Nine Bull Fist] created a secondary impact a split second later.

BOOM! Snap! Snap! Snap!

The arm was immediately broken and the sloth flew backwards, breaking branches as it went. The vibrations rattled all of its internal organs.

Lem’s simulated self was thrown a few meters to the side, narrowly missing a tree.

Keeping his feet, he ran forward, hitting the sloth again before it could recover its center of balance.

Smack-BOOM! Snap! Snap! Snap!

The second strike sent the tyrant sloth flying another few meters, head over heels, through a few more branches.

[As the tyrant sloth comes near you, you punch it twice in quick succession before it can react with your [Nine Bull Fist].]

The sloth scraped the ground beneath its feet with its claws as it moved away fearfully. Its arm was held at an awkward angle, while its hind leg drooped feebly from its side.

Its fur was much thicker than that of a juvenile tyrant sloth, but it had still sustained a few cuts in addition to the serious internal damage from the vibrational force.

It tried to turn around and run, but it could only mobilize two of its limbs properly.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Its terror was palpable.

It had attacked what it thought was a defenseless target, but instead, it had quickly been pushed to the brink of death.

Such an extreme reversal within a few seconds heightened its fear to inconceivable levels.

Lem’s simulated self did not allow it to escape.

While he did not actively seek to murder beasts, he also did not feel like sparing one that sought his death.

However one-sided the fight was, the outcome would have looked drastically different if the sloth had managed to strike him.

Lem pressed his advantage, rushing towards the limping sloth while its back was turned.

He punched out.

Due to its impressive size, he was only able to reach the area above its furry stub of a tail.

The force on the end of his fist vibrated, just before the impact.

CRACK!

Its spine snapped, and it was pummeled into the ground.

The sloth tried to get up, raising its head weakly.

Lem walked around the beast. He hit it again, this time in the head.

CRACK!

Its neck broke and its head was twisted to the side unnaturally. It fell over and did not move.

[The sloth is gravely injured, and it begins to retreat. You strike it a couple of times, and it falls to the ground, dead…]

Lem’s simulated self stared at the corpse before him. It was nearly twice his height, and much bigger than he was, but he wasn’t thinking about how impressive of a feat it had been to take it down.

Lem was familiar with the look that his simulated self was giving.

He was even more familiar with the feeling that was running through his body.

Hunger.

Because his rations were running low, he had been spacing out the meals, only eating a small portion of dried meat every day.

He was ravenous enough to see the corpse before him as a meal.

Raw beast meat.

Lem’s simulated self had already made his choice to eat a portion of it, but it did not mean that he liked the thought.

He took a reluctant step forward. And then another.

The dead eyes of the sloth stared at him.

He retrieved his knife and cut into the side of the corpse.