Chapter 20: Carnotaurus: "What’s That Buzzing Sound?"

"Stunning..."

Grant offered a clinical, objective assessment from the comfort of the monitoring station.

The Giganotosaurus’ adaptability to their new environment exceeded all projections. Whether it was Carlo or the adults, they had intuitively identified their roles in the hunt and achieved seamless coordination in record time.

"What’s wrong?"

Noticing the dead silence around him, Grant turned back with a look of confusion.

"Pardon me... I need a minute."

One of the technicians nearby looked pale, his face a sickly shade of green. He stumbled out of the control room, hand clamped over his mouth.

Unlike Grant, who had stood mere feet away from a Tyrannosaurus rex devouring a Gallimimus, these staff members were ordinary people. They were used to ensuring things ran smoothly from behind a screen while "working" remotely; they weren't prepared for the visceral reality of the wild.

"Sigh... I guess that’s nature for you," another staffer remarked, trying to break the tension.

The scene had set his pulse racing, but it also made his skin crawl, specifically the moment Caroline tore into the Triceratops’ midsection. Blood and viscera had spilled onto the grass in a display so vivid he could almost smell the metallic tang through the monitor.

"I hope they put an age rating on the documentary," the staffer added after a pause. "Or at least film a 'Junior' version. Seriously, kids like giant, majestic lizards, not monsters that can unzip a stomach in one bite."

A few others finally broke their silence, murmuring in agreement.

Grant remained non-committal. It was true that not everyone could stomach the cruelty of the natural world, which was exactly why humanity constantly strove to domesticate it.

Perhaps they had succeeded. They had, after all, resurrected creatures that nature had long ago scrubbed from the earth. But who was to say that this human meddling wasn't just another gear in nature’s vast, indifferent machine?

Were they creating nature, or was nature simply directing their hands?

Masrani had a grand vision. He wanted to guide nature, to curate a window into a world 65 million years old.

And what about himself?

Was he here for his old friends, or was he here for the dinosaurs?

Grant didn't have an answer. Fossilized skeletons had been his life’s work, and yet, standing here, he found himself missing the bones. He had never been arrogant enough to try and recreate nature; he was simply... obsessed with these creatures. From the beginning to the end.

That was all.

…

Primeval Ecological Zone, Noon.

A creature nearly four meters tall was currently behaving in a most suspicious, "dino-sneaky" manner in broad daylight.

This was a Carnotaurus.  

Specifically, this was Carnotaurus One.

Like Carnotaurus Two, they were "veteran" employees with some seniority at the park. However, due to their overly... enthusiastic hospitality toward guests, they had been blacklisted from public exhibitions.

Their release point was the furthest from the herbivores. Fortunately, herbivores tend to form their own social circles and settle in their favorite spots; otherwise, he would have had to travel a long way to find these "snacks."

One might wonder: wouldn't herbivores be safer staying together? Why split up?

In truth, many herbivores, like the ceratopsians, have evolved specific defensive mechanisms against predators. They face the enemy with their horns, forming a defensive circle with the sub-adults protected in the center. They might be terrified, but as long as their kin are beside them, they won't break rank.

Consequently, a screaming, panicked Parasaurolophus does nothing but disrupt their formation. They are, quite literally, a liability.

If you’re going to ruin our morale, get lost!

Back to the point: Carnotaurus One had spotted a migrating herd of Triceratops.

However, these "Big Snacks" weren't his target. While he didn't exactly "know" what they were, they looked far too prickly. Even a carnivore knows to pick the low-hanging fruit.

He continued his "dino-sneaky" approach.

Rustle... rustle... Rustle... rustle...

What’s that bee-buzzing sound?

The Carnotaurus glanced back. Nothing but bushes. He tilted his head, confused.

Was I being that loud? Better be extra careful, or I’m going to bed hungry.

Carlo was tailing Carnotaurus One stealthily. The noise just now had been an accident—he’d almost let out a sneeze and had been forced to drop his stealth to stabilize himself.

As the saying goes: "When the stomach is full, the mind wanders to..."—well, Carlo wasn't quite at that age yet. Simply put, he was looking for entertainment. Curiosity about new things was etched into the very marrow of a young dinosaur’s bones.

While wandering, he had stumbled upon the Carnotaurus on a hunt and excitedly decided to shadow the "pro." After all, Debby and Caroline didn't exactly have a manual for this.

Man, I really do everything for this family. 

Carnotaurus One suddenly lunged from the trees, having clearly found a suitable target.

Carlo poked his head out of the grass. He was currently downwind, so he wasn't worried about the Carnotaurus or the prey catching his scent.

Then, he witnessed something incredible. The Carnotaurus vanished!

To be precise, it had blended into the surrounding foliage like a giant chameleon. If its scent hadn't still been there, even Carlo would have struggled to find it.

(Note: In Michael Crichton’s original "The Lost World" novel, Carnotaurus were given chameleon-like camouflage abilities, though unlike the Indominus rex, they cannot hide from thermal imaging.)

The Carnotaurus’ objective was clear. He approached a herd of Stegosaurus, but they weren't the goal. He wanted to create chaos, to scare the Parasaurolophus out of the herd's protection.

Rustle... rustle...

The leaves shivered. A Parasaurolophus lifted its head from the ferns, scanning the surroundings. Nothing unusual. No predator scent. But it felt a primal, instinctive panic.

"ROAR—!"

An unfamiliar bellow exploded right in its ear. The hadrosaur let out a sharp, terrified honk.

The surrounding Stegosaurus didn't have the luxury of worrying about the Parasaurolophus. They panicked as well, searching for the silhouette of a predator.

They found nothing.

Instinctively, they began to cluster their young, forming a defensive ring. Unlike the Triceratops, they pointed their spiked tails outward to ward off attackers.

The Parasaurolophus, not being one of their "young," was left stranded outside the circle.

Parasaurolophus: ???

Carnotaurus: ???

The Carnotaurus had assumed they were a package deal and was about to give up because their formation looked so solid.

Oh, so you aren't together? Well, that makes things easy.

A pattern of green, light green, and dark green peeled away from the trees, charging toward the Parasaurolophus. Under the sunlight, the figure constantly shifted colors, making the air around it appear warped and surreal.

The Parasaurolophus had bolted the moment the anomaly appeared, but it was about to discover a horrifying fact...

It couldn't outrun a Carnotaurus.

Carlo watched the entire scene from the brush. Honestly? The Carnotaurus' hunting skill was top-tier. The camouflage provided tactical flexibility, and its explosive speed ensured a high success rate. But...

How the hell am I supposed to learn that?