Reborn as a Sabertooth Tiger: Gene Evolution System Chapter 52 51: The High Cost of Survival

[Ding! Host hunted a Hunting Hyena. Evolution Points 35.]

[Ding! Host hunted a Hunting Hyena. Evolution Points 35.]

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The double chi of the system finally snapped out of that red haze. I stopped tearing at the shredded remains under my paws and took a breath, though every lungful of air felt like swallowing broken glass. I couldn't relax yet—the pack was still buzzing around us like a swarm of angry, oversized hornets.

But I was done. My tank was on "E." If one more hyena so much as sneezed in my direction, I didn't have the strength to do anything but fall over and look delicious.

"A-whoooooo!!"

A piercing, ragged howl cut through the chaos. I looked up. It was the Queen.

While I was busy playing prehistoric John Wick, Mom had finally broken through the frontline. She didn't co for us first—she went straight for the boss. "Cut off the head and the body dies"—standard strategy, and Mom executed it perfectly.

"ROAR—!"

Mom's roar was like a thunderclap right in the Queen's ear. The dark-furred hyena tried to pivot, but you don't out-maneuver a 250kg mother tiger with a grudge. Mom hit her like a falling mountain, pinning her to the dirt.

The Queen was big for a hyena, but Mom outweighed her four-to-one. It wasn't a fight; it was a hit-and-run where the car stayed on top of the victim.

Pshhh—!

Mom didn't ss around with swipes. She opened her jaws and drove those white sabers straight into the Queen's spine.

CRACK.

The sound of the vertebrae snapping was loud enough to make my own back ache. The Queen's frantic thrashing turned into a limp, pathetic twitching. She looked at us one last ti, eyes full of the kind of regret you only get when you realize your greed just cost you your life. In the Mississippi Plains, greed doesn't get you a fine; it gets you a grave.

With their leader turned into a rug, the rest of the pack didn't stick around for the after-party. They vanished into the tall grass like smoke, leaving behind a field of gore, fur, and the silence of the dead.

"Finally... it's over," I wheezed, collapsing next to my kills.

This was officially our worst day since leaving the mountains. My ribs were already a ss from the bison, but now I had a "buy one, get ten free" deal on injuries. My right hind leg was the star of the show—an open fracture that looked like sothing out of a horror movie, courtesy of those bone-crushing jaws.

And hyena bites are the worst. These guys eat rotting carcasses for breakfast; their mouths are basically petri dishes for every infection known to the Pleistocene. If I were a normal cub, this would be my series finale.

"System... hit with the Healing Points. All of them."

I didn't hold back. The healing kicked in, but it wasn't a magic button. It felt like a slow, burning itch as the system started the all-in-one service: disinfecting, sealing the vessels, and dulling the pain.

The bill was staggering. Fixing an open fracture and cleaning up twenty bite marks drained almost every point I had. According to the system, a full recovery would cost another 100 points.

"Great. I can't even walk to the bathroom, and the hospital bill is already through the roof. How am I supposed to earn points if I'm a tripod?"

As I was cursing my "prehistoric dical insurance," the system chid again.

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[Ding! New Gene Source detected: Hunting Hyena.]

[Ding! Blood sample collected. 35 Gene Points to replicate. Check Gene Bank for details.]

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"New skill to copy?" I pulled up the nu.

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[Hunting Hyena Gene: Bite Force Enhancent – 35 Gene Points]

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A bite force buff. Makes sense—hyenas have jaws that can turn granite into gravel, sothing us Smilodons actually suck at. Our sabers are specialized, but our actual crushing power is pretty weak compared to a lion or a hyena. It's a tempting upgrade, but I'm broke. I had to shove it to the back of my mind. Priority one: stay alive. Priority two: don't get eaten while healing.

"Roar~~"

Mom trotted over, leaving the Queen's carcass behind. She nudged , and I saw her breath hitch when she saw the state of my leg. She knew. To her, a leg like that ant I was a goner.

"Wu~~"

She let out a sound like a sob and started licking the wound, her saliva acting as the only dicine she knew. Dad, Zack, and Zoe gathered around, letting out worried huffs. They looked at like I was already a ghost.

"ROAR!"

I pulled myself up, letting out a sharp, confident roar. I leaned my head against Mom's neck, giving her a reassuring nudge. "Don't count out yet, Mom. I've still got a few lives left out of my nine lives."