HLM -Chapter 1101 The Divine Might of the Mastiff

Wang Bo gestured for Elizabeth to brew tea for everyone, then smiled and said, “Oh, I’ll call it over so everyone can take a look.”

“You can summon it just like that?” Even Lancaster was surprised. “You put the phone on speaker and shout once—can Zhuang Ding really understand?”

“This is a bit mystical, my friend. It’s really hard to believe,” said the ever-smiling Valls Wendy, clearly skeptical.

The ranch was some distance from the town center—at least seven or eight kilometers away.

About twenty minutes later, voices sounded on the street outside: “Hey, Zhuang Ding, why are you running so fast? Found another pretty female dog?”

Everyone was drinking tea in the small pavilion outside the government building. Hearing the voice, Williams jumped to his feet in excitement.

A powerful giant dog burst in through the doorway. Its eyes blazed, its chest solid and broad, four long legs packed with muscle. As it ran, its body leaned forward, like a purebred racehorse in a sprint.

“My God!” Exclamations rang out—not only because of Zhuang Ding’s appearance, but because of the miracle it had accomplished.

To run seven or eight kilometers to find its owner based solely on a voice from a phone call—this wasn’t just about strong execution; it was terrifyingly intelligent.

Wang Bo beckoned with his hand. Zhuang Ding charged over and slammed straight into his arms, panting wildly: “Huff, huff—huff, huff…”

The moment it appeared, the bull terrier Tyson grew tense. Its ears pressed flat back, eyes wide, teeth bared as it let out a low “woo-woo” growl.

But Zhuang Ding only flicked a glance at it, then paid it no further attention.

Wang Bo was very familiar with that look: In my eyes, this dog is nothing more than a marked head waiting to be taken.

Zhuang Ding often wore that expression—any dog that wasn’t a female was just a “marked head for sale.” If it was a female dog, then naturally it became a “marked body for sale.”

Williams swallowed and murmured, “God, this truly is a divine dog!”

Wang Bo poured some water into his palm. Zhuang Ding eagerly lapped it up, licking it clean—after running so far, the canine lord was really thirsty.

Rudolph Samir took out his camera and looked at Wang Bo with a questioning glance. “May I take photos of it?”

“Of course. It’s happy to do so,” Wang Bo replied with a smile.

The flash went off. Zhuang Ding blinked, then quickly sat upright, frowning slightly, its dog face solemn, lips pressed together, tongue tucked in.

That scene once again left everyone captivated. Wendy cried out, “There must be a human soul inside this dog!”

Wang Bo shrugged. “Oh, don’t misunderstand. It’s not as humanized as you imagine. Some time ago, our town held elections, and it was actually one of the mayoral candidates. During that period, reporters were always taking its picture. My fiancée and I spent some time teaching it how to face the camera like this.”

From this alone, it was clear these people hadn’t paid attention to Sunset Town. During the town election, Zhuang Ding and Tuhao Jin had been famous across New Zealand for quite a while.

Of course, that was normal. Given their status, there was no need for them to care about a small town in the Southern Hemisphere. Wang Bo felt that their visit to Sunset Town this time was probably at Lancaster’s invitation—more of a vacation to deepen friendships.

“No matter what, this is still amazing,” Wendy said.

Williams looked at Lancaster and said, “Hey, mate, you and the princess are getting married soon, right? I heard there’s a part of your wedding where your military dog carries the ring. I think this dog would be perfect for that job.”

Lancaster replied, “I plan to let my military dog do it—but now I’m a bit hesitant. Without a doubt, Zhuang Ding is indeed the most suitable dog for this kind of task.”

Zhuang Ding’s appearance conquered the group with just two brief displays. They even had several hunting dogs back in the car that they were usually quite proud of, but now they felt embarrassed to bring them out.

And it wasn’t just Zhuang Ding. There was also Queen. When they arrived at the castle and saw the dignified, elegant Queen, another wave of exclamations followed.

Williams said, “I apologize for my earlier mistaken suggestion. Hugo, the ring delivery should be done by Queen—she is a true aristocrat.”

Queen sat upright at the doorway, her gaze gentle yet focused. Then she stood, wagged her tail, and trotted out with light steps.

Wang Bo explained, “My fiancée is back.”

As his words fell, a Volkswagen Beetle drove in. Queen followed behind, wagging her tail enthusiastically. Zhuang Ding, the chubby cat brothers, the snow fox, and the others all rushed over, tumbling and scrambling, bursting with excitement.

The most enthusiastic ones were fed first. Eva handled all the little creatures with one simple action—feeding them.

In New Zealand, the Beetle was considered a relatively low-end car. Because of its design and space, it was only suitable as a family vehicle.

Eva pushed the car door open and stepped out. Standing beside the car, she somehow made the white Beetle gleam with added brilliance.

Wang Bo introduced everyone, and naturally, a fresh round of praise centered around Eva.

The castle grounds were spacious enough, so everyone let their hunting dogs and hunting pigs roam free.

Wendy explained to Wang Bo, “They’re strictly trained. If they need to pee or poop, they’ll go into their crates and won’t dirty the environment.”

Wang Bo waved his hand. “You’re being too polite. That’s not a problem.”

They had brought over a dozen hunting dogs. Those who brought fewer brought just one; dog lovers like Williams brought three—a bull terrier, an Argentine Dogo, and another dog whose lineage Wang Bo couldn’t identify.

No one else could either. Williams looked rather proud and said with a smile, “This dog actually has some connection to Wang. They both come from the mysterious East—China. It took me a lot of effort to get this one. Its name is the Jianmao Hunting Dog.”

This dog was a bit smaller than the others, lean in build and quiet in temperament. But its eyes were exceptionally sharp. Every movement was silent and restrained, like an assassin.

Hearing Williams’s words, Wang Bo felt a bit embarrassed—he was truly unfamiliar with this breed.

Historically, China spans tens of millions of square kilometers, vast in area and broad in geography. Under such conditions, it was only natural for many regions to produce excellent dog breeds.

Unfortunately, China’s modern and recent history had been turbulent. Canine bloodline preservation and training hadn’t been handled well, and these resources weren’t fully utilized to cultivate outstanding breeds.

Once the hunting dogs were released, conflict inevitably followed.

They were all kings within their own packs. Gathering together, each naturally wanted to become the leader. A strong Tosa dog was eager to assert dominance and launched an attack on Williams’s Jianmao Hunting Dog to establish its authority.

The Jianmao Hunting Dog usually trained alongside the Argentine Dogo. They had a bond and a sense of loyalty. Seeing this, the Dogo refused to back down and immediately joined the fight.

Once the fight began, the scene descended into chaos. All the dogs joined in, battling in a tangled mass!

Seeing this, the trainers they had brought panicked. They hurriedly blew whistles, clapped their hands, banged bowls—every method they could think of.

Unfortunately, the dogs were in a frenzy. The training commands were no longer effective!