Rod grinned, sharp fangs dripping with bloodlust.
“Guess how many minutes it’ll take me to kill you.”
“Roar!”
The giant wolf howled, its blood-red eyes filled with madness.
It leaped through the air, charging directly at Rod.
Bang!
Rod swung a fist, landing squarely on the wolf’s cheek.
As if struck by a cannonball, the giant wolf’s face twisted and deformed before Rod’s eyes.
The crucifix necklace around Rod’s neck blazed with holy light.
Sizzle!
Where it touched the crucifix, it was like pouring acid.
Fur and flesh were instantly corroded, revealing bare white bones.
The giant wolf howled in pain as it flew back, its eyes filled with unprecedented terror as it looked at Rod.
The damage from that single punch was even more terrifying than when he had blasted the wolf with his shotgun.
The wolf struggled to its feet, the side of its face, corroded by the holy silver, was a hideous sight.
The wolf’s powerful vitality was useless against this.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
“You’re a bit of a disappointment, really.”
Rod wrapped the crucifix around his fist, like a knuckle-duster, and repeatedly slammed it into the wolf’s head.
In an instant, the once fierce and brutal wolf was lying there as if dead.
Its chest heaved faintly, on the verge of death.
“Please, don’t kill Grandma!”
Little Red Riding Hood’s pleading voice came from behind.
The beast in Rod’s eyes flared.
He grabbed Little Red Riding Hood by the neck, lifting her like a toy.
His brutal eyes were filled with bloodthirsty savagery.
“Are you teaching me how to do things?”
Little Red Riding Hood, lifted by the neck, had a look of pain on her face.
But she still pleaded with him.
It seemed she was oblivious to the wolf her Grandma had become.
Her pure, tear-stained face, looking like a delicate flower in the rain, seemed to fall into the abyss of his brutality.
The immense potential in her, like two full coconuts, was almost too much.
Rip!
Sharp fingers traced a line across her red dress.
A jagged tear stretched from her chest to her belly.
Her flawless, white skin, was exposed without any cover.
Her slender waist, cinched by the dress, was both delicate and strong, yet bore a weight it should not.
Rod’s mind was consumed by primal urges, only one thought remaining.
Crush her!
...
Little Red Riding Hood’s body was a textbook example of a classic Western hourglass figure.
Slim, yet toned, she was full of beauty.
A perfect pear shape, with a bust that was full and firm, a rear that was rounded and pert, thighs that were slightly rounded, but calves that were slender.
In the modern world, she would have been a top model, adored by millions.
At five foot six, her legs alone took up almost three feet, making her look even more visually striking than a woman of five foot ten.
She wouldn’t be considered short, even among men.
But in the presence of a ten-foot tall werewolf, it was like the difference between the Hulk and Black Widow.
Rod, his mind overflowing with primal urges, grabbed her head of golden hair, pinning it to the wall.
He didn’t know how long the endless torment lasted.
The beastly mind that had dominated his thoughts slowly cooled down.
Looking at the ruined wooden cabin, Rod couldn’t help but feel a sense of helplessness.
In his werewolf form, he could maintain some level of reason, but the savagery and the primal instincts would always be balanced in a state of equilibrium.
Once triggered by something external, the balance would be broken.
His body would be controlled by animalistic instinct.
He could control himself from killing, but the most primal desires and urges in his body were impossible to suppress.
Maybe his body just had an unusual need for that sort of thing.
After all, his physique was far beyond that of ordinary men.
All sorts of hormones were being secreted in excess, making his body like a machine that produced desires.
He could repress it under normal circumstances, but in his werewolf form, those instincts would be magnified tenfold.
He looked at Little Red Riding Hood, unconscious.
Apart from pain, her face also held a trace of satisfaction.
Rod felt a sense of strangeness.
This high-intensity battle, even for a normal person, would have been fatal or left them maimed.
But Little Red Riding Hood had flawlessly endured it from the beginning.
Could it be that people in this world have such an incredible tolerance and physique?
Rod couldn’t help but think of the blonde woman in the inn.
Without transforming into a werewolf, he hadn’t even fought seriously, yet she almost died.
So, it wasn’t that people in this world had a strong tolerance.
It was that Little Red Riding Hood’s body was different from normal people.
She was the exception.
It was hard to imagine how much resilience and adaptability this seemingly frail body had.
The fact that she could withstand his attacks in his werewolf form, from the first encounter, meant she had immense potential.
If she were trained professionally.
She would be a perfect creation.
“The wolf grandma...”
Rod walked over to the dying wolf.
Unlike the fairy tale, the wolf hadn’t eaten the Grandma.
Instead, the Grandma had become the wolf.