The Dark Lion King possessed a tremendously powerful physique.
As soon as the treatment ended, it stood up and gently licked Martin's hand with its rough, barbed tongue.
Martin stroked its head and chuckled. "There's one more surprise, buddy."
He said this while gesturing for the Dark Lion King to follow.
"Come with me."
Then he stepped out of the tent.
The Nightfall Lion King walked with slow, elegant steps, trailing behind him.
Only the young medic was left standing inside, dumbfounded.
"Wait… that lion actually understands human speech?"
"I'm not dreaming, right?"
"A lion that's survived its whole life in the wild—never tamed, never trained—and yet it can understand people? Could it really be some kind of spirit beast?"
He suddenly recalled the strange legends he'd heard from Diddy, stories whispered among the grassland tribes about this very Dark Lion King.
A sense of awe stirred in his heart.
And then the thought struck him—if this lion was a god… then what did that make the man who had subdued it?
A god-king?
Martin led the Dark Lion King to the carcass of the lioness.
The beast let out a deep, mournful growl and began licking her body with its tongue.
Martin placed a hand on the lioness's belly and, after a moment, spoke.
"Your mate is dead—but your cub still lives. If you're willing, I can cut her open and save the cub. But it hasn't reached full term yet. I'm the only one who can guarantee it survives, and it might need to stay with me for a while."
He said this directly to the Nightfall Lion King.
The beast turned to him, eyes glinting with the colors of twilight. Then it gave a soft nod.
The medic, who had just stepped out of the tent, gawked as he pointed toward the lion. "Did you see that? Did you see that? It really understands human speech! Oh my god, could it really be a god?"
A White soldier beside him stood frozen, then stammered, "Maybe it's just a coincidence?"
"Coincidence? That's the third time it's nodded at Boss! No, wait—four times! I just remembered—it nodded once before we even left the camp!"
He held up four fingers in earnest.
Then, not far off, Diddy had already fallen to his knees, arms outstretched and his torso bowed low to the ground. He was murmuring something under his breath.
"Look at him—he's worshipping! I don't know if it's our boss or that black lion he's bowing to. Wait, the lion's black… and I'm Black… Could it be… that he's our god?"
[GodOfReader: ???]
The thought made the young black soldier's knees wobble, and he almost knelt down himself—until he reminded himself that his Boss was probably even more formidable than the lion-god.
Meanwhile, Martin had borrowed a dagger from Satan and carefully cut open the lioness's belly, retrieving a tiny cub—its skin still white and pink, its fur yet to grow.
Separated from its mother, the newborn squirmed weakly, unsettled by the sudden loss of nourishment.
Then a cool surge of energy enveloped it.
The little cub relaxed in Martin's hands, nestled quietly, and fell asleep.
The Dark Lion King studied the cub with a puzzled expression, tilting its head. It clearly didn't resemble him at all.
But blood ties don't lie.
A sense of kinship softened the lion's gaze. It leaned down and gave a soft snort, gently imprinting its scent on the cub.
Martin had a soldier bring over a cloth pouch. He placed the cub inside and looked to the Dark Lion King.
"It can't survive without me for now. If you don't mind, I'll raise it myself."
The lion gave a deep rumble, followed by a nod, seemingly giving its blessing.
Satan approached, glancing at the sleeping lion by Martin's side. "What about the lioness?"
Martin shook his head. "Bury her. She was born on the savannah… she should return to it."
Satan finally voiced the question that had been burning in his mind. "Boss… that lion—can it really understand human language?"
Martin laughed. "Maybe it only understands me. I wouldn't count on it understanding anyone else."
Not far away, both the Black medic and the guide, Didier, looked at Martin with wide-eyed reverence.
That night, the group camped out at the poachers' site.
Before dawn, the Dark Lion King departed on its own, vanishing into the darkness beyond the horizon.
By 8:00 AM, the convoy from the base arrived.
All of the poachers' spoils and equipment were loaded up and transported back to the compound.
As soon as Martin stepped off the truck, a group of anxious girls rushed to greet him.
"Martin, are you okay?"
"Were you in danger? We heard you guys took down an entire poacher squad!"
"Oh my god, we've been worried sick! Lin kept praying for you nonstop."
"Like you didn't? Jessica, you were practically crying!"
"Hey, hey! Can't you see I'm fine?" Martin grinned. "In fact, I even brought back a little surprise."
He reached into the cloth pouch hanging from his waist and gently pulled out the cub.
All attention immediately shifted to the tiny, pale creature.
"What is that?"
"A kitten?"
"Is that a baby leopard? There are no cats on the savannah!"
"It's so cute! Look, its eyes aren't even open!"
Martin infused a bit of magic into the cub.
It yawned with its eyes still shut, let out two sleepy little squeaks, and twitched its limbs. It couldn't have looked more adorable.
"This little guy's a lion cub," Martin explained, smiling. "Don't be fooled by how tiny he is now—he'll grow into a big fella someday."
"A lion cub?"
"You guys ran into lions?"
"How'd you get him?"
The girls bombarded him with questions.
Martin recounted the Dark Lion King's tale of vengeance.
Gasps and murmurs of awe followed.
"That sounds like The Lion King—but in real life!"
"Disney should reboot the movie based on that story. People would love it."
"Forget 'The Lion Prince.' This is a full-on King's Vengeance arc!"
Martin waved his hand, cutting through the chatter. "Ladies, take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow, how about we go hunting?"
Unexpectedly, the girls exchanged hesitant glances.
Then Lindsay spoke up. "Martin, maybe… we shouldn't. After seeing that adorable little guy, I don't want to hurt them when they grow up."
"Yeah, Martin. I don't want to hunt anymore either."
"Let's just enjoy the scenery," someone added.
"Martin…"
"All right, all right," he chuckled. "Then tomorrow, we'll take the truck out for a ride across the savannah. Enjoy the sights, take some beautiful pictures. How's that?"
"Agreed!"
"Yes!"
"Sounds perfect!"
"Yay!"
…
After three days of sightseeing with the girls…
One day, a black-skinned elder accompanied by an assistant arrived at the "Black Humor" base. (I forgot the name of this base, if you guys know, please lemme know.)
"Boss, here's the scholar you asked for—this is Professor Nama, an expert on West African history."
"Nice to meet you, Professor Nama. I'm Martin Meyers—just call me Martin."
"Pleasure to meet you, Martin. May I ask why you've requested my—"
Mid-sentence, the professor's voice abruptly stopped.
His eyes were fixed on Martin's shoulder.
There, a tiny, fuzzy creature was tugging relentlessly at his collar, trying to burrow inside.