If this had happened to Ryan half a month ago, he would have been terrified out of his wits. But ever since he entered this virtual world and spent four days rampaging, it had changed him. It was as if some primal instinct buried deep within him had been fully unleashed.
Especially now that he knew surviving this could net him nearly ten million, enough to change his and his family's fate, his desire to live had become so intense that it overshadowed everything else.
Whether it was a gray wolf or even more dangerous beasts like lions, tigers, leopards, or bears standing in his way, he would eliminate them all.
This frenzied determination finally intimidated the gray wolf. The sharp teeth that had been digging into Ryan's arm loosened slightly, and the wolf began to dodge, trying to avoid Ryan's punches.
Ryan's wild barrage targeted the wolf's vulnerable spots, where its fur was thin.
In his berserk state, he unleashed his full potential, and each punch landed with devastating force, causing the wolf excruciating pain.
After so many blows, the gray wolf could no longer hold on.
It suddenly released Ryan's arm, let out a mournful howl, and retreated a few steps. Its green eyes now held a mix of wariness and agony, and it dared not attack again.
"Come on!"
"You mangy cur!"
Ryan roared, his eyes bloodshot with fury, as he charged at the wolf.
The wolf's entire body tensed, arching in preparation for a fight, but it kept backing away while growling menacingly.
As the distance between them shrank to less than a meter, the gray wolf, catching sight of Ryan's ferocious charge, let out a startled yelp and bolted in the opposite direction.
Ryan was taken aback for a moment, not expecting the wolf to flee and abandon its companion.
After a brief moment of shock, Ryan snapped back to reality.
He suddenly felt a wave of fear wash over him as he realized how close he had come to death.
If he had shown even the slightest hesitation, he would have lost his life right there.
But the fear didn't last long. Soon, a searing, bone-deep pain shot through his left arm.
He looked down to see four deep puncture wounds, blood seeping steadily from the gashes.
Ignoring the wolves for now, Ryan turned and sprinted towards the living room.
He quickly found a clean towel to wrap around the wound, but there was no time to staunch the bleeding. He had to get to the second floor.
He needed to arm himself first; the wolves were still alive, and the danger hadn't passed.
Now that he had driven off the second wolf, his priority was to ensure his own safety.
Ryan reached the second floor and found a handgun in the room. It slightly eased his tension.
He checked the magazine and saw it was fully loaded. With the gun in one hand, he began to search the room for medical supplies.
This room was where he had stored various supplies—food, water, clothes, and medical items.
He definitely needed a rabies vaccine, but lacking medical knowledge, he didn't even know what a rabies vaccine was. And he had never anticipated being bitten by a wolf, so naturally, he hadn't thought to stockpile any.
He had only brought common items like medical alcohol and bandages.
He went to the bathroom in the room to clean the bloodied wound, then disinfected it with medical alcohol and bandaged it tightly.
Although Ryan's wound was treated, waves of burning pain still radiated from it, and any movement caused intense agony. His arm would likely be useless for a while.
Ryan's heart sank. He had only been in this game for half a month, and he had already lost the use of an arm.
The challenges ahead would only get tougher. The sudden appearance of the two wolves in the villa was proof enough.
Next time, it could easily be even more dangerous beasts like tigers, lions, or bears.
Ryan's face turned grim. If the game continued like this, he would be dead within days.
From this moment on, he had to take the game seriously and stop underestimating its difficulty.
The only fortunate thing was that the game always left him a glimmer of hope.
For example, half a month ago, during the gas explosion, he hadn't been at the epicenter and had only suffered a fall.
The two gray wolves could have appeared in the bedroom, giving him no chance to fight back. But they hadn't.
Ryan took a deep breath. He didn't have time to think about it anymore and decided to deal with the two wolves first.
He pocketed a grenade and, with the gun in hand, pushed open the door and headed downstairs.
As he descended, he heard a commotion on the first floor—scratching at the door, and the sound of porcelain and glass shattering.
Ryan paused for a moment, quickly piecing together what had happened.
With the heavy rain and strong winds outside, he had always kept the doors and windows tightly locked to prevent water from entering the house.
The two wolves, like random spawns in the game, had appeared inside the villa, knowing their target was him but not knowing how to open the doors.
The noise downstairs was clearly the wolf trapped inside, still scratching at the door.
The shattering sounds were likely from the second wolf, unable to find an exit and running around the first floor in confusion.
His eyes cold, Ryan quickened his pace and headed downstairs.
Once on the first floor, he followed the sounds and found the gray wolf in the corridor leading to the backyard.
The wolf, realizing this path was also blocked, was about to turn back when it spotted Ryan again.
It immediately assumed a combative stance, growling menacingly, ready to pounce at any moment.
But it was clearly hesitant, still remembering Ryan's ferocious attack and feeling some fear.
The wolf didn't move, and Ryan didn't hesitate. He raised his gun and fired at it.
The beast had nearly bitten his arm off; there was no way he was going to let it go.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Ryan fired three shots in quick succession.
To his astonishment, none of them hit their mark. The bullets struck the floor, the door, the wall—everywhere but the wolf.
Ryan was speechless. He had figured out how to use a gun on his own, but there were so many other things to do, and he hadn't practiced his aim.
Moreover, with his left hand injured, holding the gun with his right hand alone, he couldn't handle the recoil.
As soon as he fired, he realized he had become a master of missed shots.
With the wolf less than five meters away, in a narrow corridor, he had missed every single shot.