HLM -Chapter 1377 King of the Mountain Forest

A huge mug of beer—at least two liters—was completely downed by Little Wang. Some of it splashed onto the ground. The ground was all stone, so the beer didn’t soak in; Little Wang smacked its lips and licked it clean anyway.

Drinking the beer seemed to put it in a good mood. Sniffing the scent, it trotted into the crowd to mooch more booze.

Seeing this, everyone started teasing it. Kidd cracked open another can and said, “Little Wang, come over here—lie down and roll over. Roll once and I’ll give you the beer.”

Little Wang blinked, quickly understood, flopped down under the shade of a tree, and went whoosh—rolled over—then stared at Kidd with big round eyes.

Kidd grinned. “Again.”

Not far away, Wang Bo heard this and shouted, “Don’t bully my Little Wang. It’s timid. Whoever bullies it, I’ll personally stand up for it.”

Kidd found a basin and poured the beer into it. Someone asked, “Can a liger drink alcohol?”

“No idea, but judging by Little Wang, it seems fine,” Wang Bo said as he walked over.

Little Wang was shrewd. If it thought the beer wasn’t drinkable, it wouldn’t touch it—at most it would sniff and leave.

Seeing Little Wang happily gulping down the ice-cold beer, Zhuang Ding came over wanting a sip too. But the moment it leaned forward, Little Wang slammed it with its head, knocking it over, then opened its mouth and roared:

“Aoooo!”

The sound was thunderous, shaking the mountain forest.

Crash—rustle— chaotic noises erupted from the woods as flocks of birds burst into the air.

Zhuang Ding was knocked over and felt extremely displeased. It sprang up and stared at Little Wang with a solemn gaze: Kid, you’ve got some nerve. Not giving Dog Lord any face, huh? Fine—today I’ll teach you who’s the real boss of Sunset Town!

The Mastiff is a breed full of pride and keen on authority. When there are lots of people around, you can’t make them do foolish things or scold them—otherwise it’s easy to shatter their fragile pride.

Without a doubt, Little Wang had just done exactly that to Zhuang Ding.

The mastiff charged forward, roaring at Little Wang with a barrage of “woof woof woof”—one of its ultimate moves: Wrath of the Thunder God—The Mastiff’s Roar.

Usually, this move was enough. Little Wang would get scared and run to Eva or Wang Bo.

But for some reason, this time Little Wang didn’t run. Instead, it lifted its head, stared straight at Zhuang Ding, and let out another roar:

“Aoooo—oo!”

The deep, resounding lion’s roar was overwhelmingly powerful. Several wild boars bolted out of the forest, then panicked and dashed into the woods on the other side.

Zhuang Ding took Little Wang’s repeated roars as a blatant provocation. It decided to unleash its trump card—leaping up, baring its fangs, and lunging to bite Little Wang.

In the past, if Zhuang Ding did this, Little Wang would be scared stiff and immediately flop onto the ground, belly exposed in submission.

But not this time.

Facing Zhuang Ding’s threat and pounce, Little Wang raised a paw and slapped it head-on!

Bang! A dull, heavy impact sounded out as Zhuang Ding was sent flying.

The difference was just that big. Little Wang was a ferocious beast weighing half a ton; Zhuang Ding weighed only a little over fifty kilograms—five hundred versus fifty, a tenfold gap!

After swatting Zhuang Ding away, Little Wang didn’t stop. With a tiger-like leap it chased after it, opened its mouth to reveal rough, sturdy fangs, and roared skyward:

“Aoooooo!”

Commander flapped his wings in the tree and squawked, “Ah—shut up! Ah—not good!”

Little Wang lifted its head and roared back at Commander, “Roar—oo!”

Commander was so frightened that it flapped hard and flew higher up the tree.

Atulu asked, “What’s going on with Little Wang? Why does it seem so much bolder all of a sudden?”

Wang Bo noticed it too. Normally, with so many people around, Little Wang would never dare roar. But now it wasn’t just roaring—it had even knocked Zhuang Ding flat!

Zhuang Ding climbed up from the ground, dazed and confused, blinking as it stared uncertainly at Little Wang: Holy crap, is this really Little Wang? No way. Since when did Little Wang become this badass? But Dog Lord’s nose isn’t broken—the smell says it’s definitely that Little Wang brat!

Maybe it was all just an illusion.

After getting up, Zhuang Ding barked at Little Wang twice more and jumped in again, trying to tear into it.

Despite its massive body, Little Wang wasn’t clumsy at all. It deftly twisted aside to dodge the pounce, then shot both paws forward like lightning, slamming Zhuang Ding to the ground. Opening its mouth, it blasted roars straight into its face:

“Roar—roar—oo!”

Zhuang Ding finally chickened out.

Being snarled at point-blank range by a tank-like beast—no matter how brave a Mastiff is, that was more than it could bear.

Wang Bo worried that Little Wang might actually bite Zhuang Ding. He hurriedly reached out to stop it and shouted, “What’s going on? Little Wang, what’s gotten into you?”

Little Wang wagged its head and tail, trying to shake off his arm. But Wang Bo was strong; after a few failed attempts, Little Wang gave up struggling, though it kept roaring relentlessly toward the depths of the forest.

Zhuang Ding got up and trotted over to Eva with its head drooping. Eva handed the baby to Queen, hugged Zhuang Ding, and comforted it. “There, there. Don’t be upset. It’s okay—Little Wang might be drunk.”

The speaker meant nothing by it, but the listeners took it seriously.

Atulu said in shock, “Boss… Little Wang isn’t actually drunk, is it? It drank quite a bit of beer.”

Wang Bo said, “Can a liger even get drunk?”

“All mammals can get drunk, right?” Hani guessed.

Kidd shook his head. “It didn’t drink that much. Impossible. With its size, it would need at least a whole twenty-kilo barrel of beer to get drunk!”

There was a veterinarian in town. Hani made the call and handed the phone to Wang Bo.

“Hello, this is the Drummond Veterinary Clinic. Who’s speaking?”

“I’m the mayor,” Wang Bo said. “Here’s the situation—my liger drank some beer, and now it seems extremely bold, extremely irritable, and extremely excited…”

“Oh. Don’t give it alcohol. It’s drunk right now. Be careful—don’t stimulate it,” the vet replied calmly.

Wang Bo was stunned. “Damn it—ligers can get drunk too?”

“Of course,” the vet said. “Fortunately, it was beer. It can metabolize that. But if it were high-proof liquor like brandy or whiskey, it wouldn’t be able to eliminate the alcohol in time and would easily suffer alcohol poisoning!”

After getting drunk, Little Wang was unusually hyper. It kept roaring toward the forest, so loudly that children brought by family members started covering their ears.

Seeing this, Wang Bo took Little Wang down the mountain early, planning to toss it into the animal grounds so it could go wild there and sober up.

“Boss, you’re heading down just like that? It’s so hot!” Uncle Bing said with concern.

Wang Bo sighed helplessly. “We can’t leave Little Wang here either. With how fired up it is, I reckon it could keep roaring for hours. By then, our ears would all be blown deaf.”

Little Wang stomped down the mountain with an imposing air. After walking for a while, it stopped, flopped down, and looked at Wang Bo.

Wang Bo didn’t know what it wanted and tried to pull it up. “Be good. Let’s go down the mountain, okay?”

Little Wang shoved him hard with its body, then jerked its head backward. Its hips bobbed up and down.

After repeating this several times, Wang Bo finally understood—

It wanted him to climb on and ride it.