HUN Chapter 126: Hunting Season Begins

In early August Alaska, the frenzy of the midnight sun was slowly fading, the boundaries of night were beginning to regain their clarity, and precious twilight was reappearing.

The main structure of the house was complete, but the interior finishing and plumbing and electrical installations still had a long way to go.

However, Lin Yu'an had already moved into this log cabin to live, able to clearly smell the wood fragrance emanating from the wooden house.

He had a clear plan in his mind: he must turn this place into a warm and comfortable home before the first blizzard of deep autumn sealed off the Dalton Highway, then bring Aliya over.

He calculated his upcoming plans, his gaze turning to the calendar hanging on the wall.

August 10th, a day prominently marked with a red circle, with "Hunting Season Opens" written below in bold letters.

He sighed softly. As a "non-resident" who hadn't lived here for a full year yet, hunting was an extremely luxurious activity for him.

He had consulted in detail with his old neighbor Stan. To hunt during the open season, one needed to purchase an annual hunting license, which only cost $45 for Alaska residents.

But for Lin Yu'an as a non-resident, if he wanted to hunt large game, the annual hunting license would cost $630, a fourteen-fold difference.

Game tags, these were the real big expense.

For a black bear, the resident tag fee was $25, while non-residents had to pay $450.

As for Alaska's wilderness king, the brown bear, the resident tag was still a symbolic $25, while non-residents paid $1000.

Moreover, hunting Dall sheep and brown bears required entering a lottery, and for non-residents, winning was like hitting the jackpot.

Even if he purchased a hunting license, he could only hunt one moose per season.

But if he had bear tags, he could hunt black bears or brown bears.

"Looks like before getting resident status, I can only hunt some small game without restrictions," Lin Yu'an muttered to himself.

However, he had already made an agreement with Old George. Lin Yu'an promised to serve as his "legs and eyes," accompanying him to chase the Dall sheep on the mountain peaks one more time.

He might not hunt Dall sheep himself, but he could help carry gear, scout terrain, and use a shotgun to bag some ptarmigan and grouse, so Lin Yu'an was preparing to buy a shotgun.

Lin Yu'an drove his Ford Explorer and came to Fairbanks once again.

He walked familiarly into that largest outdoor sporting goods store, where the air was filled with the mixed scent of gun oil and leather.

On the long gun racks, various rifles and shotguns were quietly displayed, like fierce beasts waiting to be awakened.

A clerk with a name tag reading "Dave" came over, his beard thick, his eyes friendly and professional.

"Good afternoon, sir. Looking for something specific?"

Lin Yu'an got straight to the point, "I need a 12-gauge pump-action shotgun."

"It needs to be very reliable, versatile, mainly for bird hunting, but in critical moments, I hope it can help me deal with a bear, if I'm unlucky enough to encounter one."

Dave's face showed a knowing smile, "Of course, no problem sir. Multi-purpose and ultimate reliability, these are almost every Alaskan's requirements."

"We have eternal classics, like the Remington 870 and Mossberg 500. They're like the Ford F-150 of the pickup world, absolutely won't let you down."

He showed Lin Yu'an several basic models. Although well-built, Lin Yu'an felt something was missing.

He needed a gun that would be perfect from the start, capable of handling any extreme situation.

Dave seemed to read Lin Yu'an's thoughts, and he smiled mysteriously, "However, if you want something that'll let you graduate immediately, follow me."

He led Lin Yu'an to an independent tactical equipment display case and took out a shotgun that was entirely black with an extremely aggressive design.

Lin Yu'an's eyes were immediately drawn to it.

This was exactly that Mossberg 590A1, but it had obviously undergone deep tactical modifications, completely different from those plain relatives on the shelves.

Dave handed the gun to Lin Yu'an, and that hefty weight immediately conveyed a reassuring sense of solidity.

"This is the law enforcement version of the Mossberg 590A1." Dave began to introduce it like counting treasures, his fingers sequentially sliding over each component of the gun.

"First, look at this stock. It's not a traditional fixed stock, but an M4 carbine-style collapsible tactical stock."

"In summer you wear a T-shirt, in winter you wear a heavy parka. Just press a button and you can adjust it to the length that fits you best."

"On top of the receiver is a full Picatinny rail, pre-installed with a tube-style red dot sight."

"Its function is to let you capture targets at the fastest speed during close-range engagements or moving shots, using both eyes open aiming with an extremely wide field of view."

He pointed to the perforated metal shroud on the barrel, "This is a heat shield. After you quickly empty a magazine, it ensures your hands won't get burned by the scalding barrel."

Lin Yu'an's gaze fell on the muzzle, which had a serrated, extremely aggressive-looking device.

"This is...?"

"A breaching brake." Dave grinned.

"In tactical applications, it can be used to push against door locks or hinges, preventing the muzzle from slipping."

"But around here, it's more of a style, a 'don't mess with me' warning! Of course, it also effectively suppresses muzzle rise."

Lin Yu'an worked the pump once, and that crisp, smooth "ka-chunk" mechanical sound was full of power!

This forend was also unusual, with an integrated rail system underneath, already equipped with a tactical light and a vertical front grip.

Finally, Dave pointed to an inconspicuous attachment on the side of the receiver, with six blue shotgun shells neatly held in place.

"Side-saddle shell carrier, allowing you to reload at maximum speed after emptying the magazine. Six backup rounds, right where your fingers can reach them."

Lin Yu'an stroked the cold metal of the gun body, his mind already made up.

Every detail of this gun seemed to speak of "one step to perfection."

"I'll take it."

"Wise choice."

The next process entered legal procedures.

Lin Yu'an presented his green card and Alaska temporary driver's license, meticulously filled out the federal ATF Form 4473.

Dave entered his information into the computer and ran a background check through the NICS system.

During the few minutes of waiting, Lin Yu'an also selected plenty of #7.5 birdshot and powerful 1-ounce slugs.

"Alright, background check passed!"

Dave smiled as he printed out the receipt, "This beast is now yours."

After paying $860, Lin Yu'an legally owned his first long gun in Alaska.

It was still the heavily modified Mossberg 590A1. Although expensive, Lin Yu'an felt this investment was very worthwhile.

Returning to Wiseman, a professional high-altitude hunting plan had entered its final preparation phase.

David and Mike were carefully checking and packing their photography equipment, with barely concealed disappointment on their faces.

"Lin, are you really sure you won't let us come along?" David asked, shouldering his heavy Sony camera, making one last attempt.

"This is Dall sheep hunting! Think of those shots, snow mountains, cliffs, white spirits... This would absolutely be top-tier material to drive viewers crazy!"

Lin Yu'an was stuffing a pack of high-calorie beef jerky into his enormous mountaineering backpack. Hearing this, he laughed and shook his head.

"David, I understand how you feel, but this time is different. Where we're going has no roads at all, completely on foot, and we'll be walking for several days."

"Equipment and supplies weight is calculated by the gram, and more people might alert those cunning Dall sheep, so the fewer people the better."

He paused his work and picked up a matchbox-sized, black metallic square device from the table nearby, tossing it in his hand.

"But don't worry, I won't miss any material."

He clicked the small square device and magnetically attached it to a magnetic mount on his chest.

"What's that? A new GoPro?" Mike asked curiously, leaning in.

"No, this is something I picked up in Fairbanks when buying the gun, a DJI Action 2."

Lin Yu'an demonstrated it to them, "I think it's much more user-friendly than GoPro. Look, magnetic design, can switch between chest mount and barrel mount in one second."

"And its stabilization... how should I put it, its horizon leveling function is very powerful. No matter how much I shake, the footage always comes out level."

He patted David's shoulder and said seriously, "This hunt has great significance for George. We can't afford any mistakes."

"So you two can consider this a short vacation, rest well at camp, or explore the surroundings."

"If we return with trophies, I promise to bring you the most spectacular footage."

Seeing Lin Yu'an's determined attitude and confident assurance, David and Mike, though disappointed, could only nod in agreement.

After seeing off the two photographers, the log cabin became completely quiet.

When departure time came, Lin Yu'an arrived at Old George's log cabin living room, which had now become a temporary command center.

A huge topographical map of the Brooks Range was spread on a makeshift wooden table, with contour lines, rivers, and ridge markings densely packed.

Old George, Stan, and Lin Yu'an, like a military special operations team about to deploy, gathered around the map, carefully planning every detail.

"Our entry point is here." Old George pointed with his calloused finger to a place on the map called "Weeping Creek Valley."

"Going in from here, on the first day we need to hike at least fifteen kilometers, cross over this saddle, and camp below 'Wind Shear Pass.'"

"There the view is open, the best spot for observing sheep activity on the opposite slope."

Lin Yu'an looked at that vast expanse of map on the table and couldn't help asking, "George, aren't we taking ATVs in? I see many people in Alaska use those."

Stan laughed and shook his head, "Kid, where we're going is God's territory. There are no roads there."

"More importantly, in those areas designated as wilderness protection zones, anything with wheels is prohibited by law."

"The white ghosts we're looking for live in those treacherous places."

"You know what, kid, Old George's stubborn persistence, he applies for Dall sheep lottery tags in this area every single year, for ten whole years!"

"In ten years he's drawn Dall sheep tags 4 times, but came back empty-handed every time."

"Fortunately, George drew a tag again this year. Hopefully with your addition, we can bring this old guy some more luck."

"This might be one of his few remaining chances in this lifetime. We must help him fulfill this dream!"

Stan then took a pen and drew another backup route on the map.

"If the water level in Weeping Creek Valley is too high, we'll have to take this route, around the scree slope. Although it's five more kilometers, it's safer. We need to be prepared for all scenarios."

Lin Yu'an listened silently, memorizing every word of the two old men's rich experience. His main role was logistics support and medium-range defense.

He went through their equipment list item by item. The list itself was a professional benchmark.

Three lightweight high-altitude tents, three down sleeping bags rated to negative fifteen degrees, a high-magnification Leica spotting scope that could see the annual rings on horns from a kilometer away.

Plus a portable water purifier, a small iron pot, satellite phone, high-calorie dehydrated food, and a professional first aid kit sufficient for any emergency trauma.

"Did we bring enough food? At high altitude, the body consumes twice the normal calories," Stan checked the food bag Lin Yu'an had packed, filled with energy bars, beef jerky, and freeze-dried meals designed for high altitude.

"Don't worry, Stan. Enough for seven days, and I brought coffee too. I guarantee you'll have hot coffee even on the mountaintop," Lin Yu'an replied with a laugh.

After the equipment check, the three men's weapon configuration perfectly reflected their respective roles and personalities.

Old George carefully took his beloved Remington 700 rifle from its gun case.

This was a true old companion. The walnut stock had been worn to an oily shine by the years, with small V-shaped marks carved with a knife, each mark representing a successful hunt.

He mounted a top-tier Swarovski scope on this Remington 700, then repeatedly polished it with a piece of deerskin, his eyes as gentle as if caressing his own child.

Stan's style was completely different, full of Alaskan roughness and pragmatism.

With a click, he opened the clasp of the huge leather holster hanging on his chest, revealing the gleaming hand cannon inside, a Ruger Super Redhawk "Alaskan."

Although its barrel was extremely short, making it appear unusually compact, the massive frame and thick cylinder silently announced its ability to contain the terrifying .44 Magnum cartridge.

This wasn't a gun for long-distance hunting, but a purely close-range bear defense weapon.

As Stan loaded six heavy hollow-point rounds into the cylinder, he said grimly, "In the brush, this guy is more useful than a rifle."

Lin Yu'an had his newly purchased Mossberg 590A1, entirely black and full of modern tactical style, forming a sharp contrast with Old George's classic wood-grain gun.

"Hey kid, your big guy looks beautiful, just not light on weight," Stan said, pointing at Lin Yu'an's shotgun.

Lin Yu'an patted the gun body, "George handles long distance, you handle the big guys up close, I'll handle the little guys in the sky, add some wild game to our dinner!"

His words drew good-natured laughter from both old men.

Old George came over and firmly patted Lin Yu'an's shoulder, his eyes full of anticipation and relief, "Kid, ready to experience the real Alaska?"

"That's not the scenery you see on TV, but land that needs to be measured with your feet, felt with your breathing, and even... revered with your life."

Lin Yu'an expressed that this was truly the life he looked forward to! The two old men laughed heartily again, seeming to anticipate his performance as well.

Two days later, they penetrated deep into the treacherous heart of the Brooks Range.

Everything here was completely different from the civilized world. No roads, no signal, only endless mountains, rushing glacial rivers, and slippery tundra underfoot.

The first day's fifteen-kilometer hike gave Lin Yu'an a rude awakening.

Carrying a twenty-five-kilogram pack, walking on tundra that appeared gentle but concealed hidden pitfalls, every step required enormous physical effort.

But Lin Yu'an's enhanced physique not only allowed him to keep up with the pace, he even had energy left to scout ahead for the team.

This completely put to rest the concerns that Stan and George had initially harbored.

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