Predator

2

Guns are legal in Kenya, and two brawny black men guarded the factory's exterior. Inside, busy local faces bustled around. The item Amelia wanted was treated as a treasure, suspended at the highest point of the factory, with a dozen fierce hunting dogs below, their eyes red as if they could devour human flesh.

Indeed, it was fresh, just processed. Half a large elephant head and a thick trunk were pathetically thrown among the dogs, who gnawed until only the skin was left.

It was under these circumstances that she met Liam—a face with a strong sense of aggression. Although his skin had tanned under the Kenyan sun, the familiar contours carried a kind, approachable curve—this was a young European man, with a deep V-shaped back, a jawline tight as a string parallel to the edge of an elephant's ear, deep-set eyes looking over, muscular arms slightly raised, and a broad hand gripping a gun, veins faintly visible.

The vendor showed great respect towards him, explaining something in a low voice. The man scanned Amelia up and down, then nodded slightly.

"Follow me."

No accent, hard to tell his nationality.

The stairs were hidden at the back of the factory, guarded by another armed burly man. He greeted Liam amicably, with a lewd look at Amelia. "Customer? Has she been searched?"

"She has."

The tall figure blocked in front of her, smiling.

"Lucas, I searched her. Do you want to search her again?"

Amelia's heart trembled, suddenly realizing that the man in front of her was not simple.

Why did he lie when he hadn't even touched her?

The armed man, larger than Liam by a circle, surprisingly relented and stepped aside.

Who knows what his background is.

As they went upstairs, Liam remained cautious, sensing the person behind him tensing up, breathing lightly. She was indeed young and inexperienced, like a little bird accidentally wandering into the lair of a fierce predator.

"We're here."

The man moved quickly, climbing onto the suspended rope, his thigh muscles tensing, legs curling up before pushing down forcefully. The pulley bearing his weight creaked as it moved, the device holding the ivory slowly shifting towards them.

The dogs below barked furiously, their intimidating saliva spraying from their jagged teeth.

This was the tusk of the most famous elephant in Tsavo East National Park.

It had been considered the largest elephant in existence.

Three days ago, it was found dead in the wild. Poachers, to ensure the tusks remained intact, had cut off its entire head, leaving only a maggot-ridden, headless elephant carcass.

Amelia seemed entranced, lightly tiptoeing to touch the giant tusks that had lured countless greedy people.

Liam paused, a small furrow appearing between his brows.

He did not stop her.

Until the woman's slender wrist reached out, revealing a fleeting elephant tattoo and a string of letters below it.

S.W.T.

Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, the most prestigious elephant orphanage in the area, where orphaned elephants, due to poaching, dried-up water sources, or conflicts between their parents and humans, were rescued from all over Africa. For an annual adoption fee of just 50 dollars, you could adopt an elephant there.

It had a beautiful name: Haven for Elephants and Rhinos.