"nsa, did you see Cecil while on patrol today?"
On the road approaching the conservation center, two patrol vehicles happened to et. Barry, deeply concerned, slowed down the car and shouted over to his colleague.
"Cecil, let think... um, it seems like I didn't see him."
In the other vehicle, nsa slowed down as Barry called out to him, furrowing his brows in thought. While replying, he noticed Barry's unpropitious deanor and laughed, "Ha, don't worry, this happens all the ti. Maybe it just found so hidden spot for a secret tryst with its new lover. Cecil's always been full of vigor."
Hearing nsa's negative reply, Barry's worried expression didn't ease in the slightest; instead, it beca more solemn, "But I haven't seen him for at least six days now, and counting a few days before that, it's been a whole week."
Hearing this, nsa's face turned serious as he realized there might be a problem.
For nomadic male lions that don't have a set territory or pride, they roam through various areas, crossing different territories and interacting with different prides. They could die in so unknown corner during a fight or while hunting.
For the conservation center's patrollers to ensure they spot them and check on their wellbeing during patrols is quite a difficult task.
But Cecil wasn't a nomadic male lion. He was a pri-aged Lion King with his own territory and pride, consisting of more than twelve adult lions—an exceedingly large family.
Every pride's territory is quite well-defined; in areas abundant with prey, it could be as small as 20 square kiloters. In regions where prey is scarce, like for desert lions, territories can be established as large as 400 square kiloters.
The African Savanna is certainly not barren like the desert; it's abundantly rich in food, with just a few dozen square kiloters being enough to sustain a large pride.
The Cecil family had always stayed within their territory, which had remained unchanged for generations of lions over the decades.
Under such circumstances, for Cecil, the Lion King, to disappear from his own territory under the watchful eyes of the conservation center for an entire week?
"It might just be a coincidence?" nsa tried to reassure Old Barry lightly and made a suggestion, "Instead of worrying here, we should ask Dr. Lovridge. He has Cecil's tracking data. Maybe, just as I said, Cecil's happily lurking in so corner?"
"Right, let's go ask. Otherwise, I won't have peace of mind."
Hearing his colleague's suggestion, Barry nodded and then parked the car at the conservation center. Together, they went looking for Dr. Lovridge.
Dr. Lovridge was a scholar at the conservation center specializing in lion ecology. He had information on the locations of most territory-owning lion kings. To learn about Cecil's current situation, the fastest thod was to enquire with the doctor.
Unfortunately, upon reaching the lab, they found out that Dr. Lovridge wasn't there; he had gone to Central Country for a symposium.
Thankfully, Dr. Lovridge's research assistant, Brent Steburkan, was there. Barry promptly shared his concerns with him.
Brent's expression froze upon hearing this.
Old Barry quickly asked, "What's happened, what's wrong?"
At that mont, Brent, faced with Old Barry's pressing questions, seed to stutter, but he still shared the sobering news, "Cecil's collar hasn't had a data update for several days now."
"What? Why didn't you say sothing sooner!?"
Barry and nsa were both shocked, and Old Barry grabbed Brent by the collar, demanding loudly.
Whether it was from embarrassnt or the suffocation of being seized by the collar, Brent's face turned beet red, and beads of sweat visibly ford on his forehead, "I... I thought it was just a problem with the collar, like a dead battery or sothing..."
Brent hadn't finished speaking when Old Barry interrupted him, "Bullshit, no power. Cecil's collar was just replaced last month, how could there be a problem?"
"In the wild, all sorts of bumps and knocks, who knows..."
The more Brent tried to explain, the drier his mouth felt, and his heart thumped wildly, yet could not draw in enough oxygen. Large beads of sweat slid from his temples, dripping onto Old Barry's wrinkled but at that mont, strong and forceful palms.
In the end, Brent silently bowed his head, the research institute filled only with several heavy breaths that knocked on the heart over and over.
It was over.
At that mont, all Brent could do was pray to God that Cecil's tracking collar had indeed just malfunctioned. Maybe it was damaged during a hunt?
Although a lion hardly participates in hunting anymore after becoming the Lion King, that was only 'hardly.' What if it was a rare exception to 'hardly'?
Or perhaps another lion had challenged Cecil?
Ideas flashed one after another in Brent's mind, but when his gaze t the furious Old Barry again, he extinguished all hopes of luck.
Zack Sitz Barry, one of the oldest employees at the conservation center.
The young people here all liked to call him Old Barry. Even the most professional scholars, when assessing certain issues, liked to hear Barry's opinions first.
His extensive work experience made Old Barry familiar with every elephant herd, every lion pride on the savannah. He never mistook one for another.
He could easily recognize the Lion King of each lion pride, the leader of each elephant herd. Animals that looked identical to ordinary people were like completely different people in Old Barry's eyes.
Moreover, his long experience with patrolling and feeding had given Barry a kind of remarkable intuition with animals. He could effortlessly locate the rulers of a territory, as if he had a special ability, which made many zoologists prefer him as their guide.
If Old Barry said he hadn't seen or found anything, then sothing extraordinary must have happened.
Brent knew he'd made a grave mistake. If sothing really had happened to Cecil, he had no idea how his teacher would react.
Only when the furious Old Barry had pressed Brent down onto the monitoring console did Brent begin frantically retrieving information.
But unlike general tracking devices, the collar stored a vast amount of information. Besides basic location data, it included height, weight, heart rate, as well as the movent paths over periods of ti, which greatly aided in studying animal behavior and clearly exploring their daily activities.
When the last transmitted piece of information from the collar was retrieved, a region on the map was marked with a bundle of red lines, with the red lines ending abruptly at one point.
"Where is this?"
nsa quickly asked, not recalling such a place within the conservation area.
"It's a pile of rocky slopes, heard it's an abandoned old mine area."
Old Barry recognized the location point on the map, identifing where Cecil had last vanished.
nsa felt a bit confused, "I don't think I've ever patrolled over there?"
"That's because it's no longer part of the conservation area, nor is it Cecil's territory. Cecil not only left his territory, he also left the conservation area! For a full week!"
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