Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 121: The Traitor Donkey

It took the arrival of the Squirrel Bros to finally get the Feathered Battalion to stand down.

"Alright, ladies! Pack your things; we’re moving to the zoo!"

By the time the two officers finally managed to handcuff Finn and lead him out, he was covered from head to toe in chicken feathers. His face was dotted with red welts as if he had just received a very aggressive round of avian acupuncture. The lead speckled hen followed him to the gate, gave her feathers a triumphant shake, and let out one last high-pitched squawk. "We're done here guys!"

Only then did the flock disperse like a receding tide, leaving behind a trembling criminal with a lifelong phobia of poultry and two officers who were struggling to keep from doubling over with laughter.

On the other side of the village, there was a short man in the gang nicknamed "Rocky." Though he was as small and wiry as a monkey, he was exceptionally agile—the gang's "ace mole" specifically tasked with navigating narrow tomb passages. Rocky was currently praising his lucky stars; his five-foot frame allowed him to blend perfectly into the chaotic crowds and the tall crops.

Unfortunately, his short legs meant he wasn't particularly fast. Panicking as he broke out into a sweat, he remembered something and bolted into his uncle’s courtyard.

There stood a donkey, blindfolded and grunting as it turned a heavy millstone. Rocky ripped the blindfold off, untied the lead, and vaulted nimbly onto its back. He slapped its rear. "Go! Run!"

He had only hoped the beast would save him some legwork, but it turned out this donkey was a hidden champion. Its four hooves blurred as it kicked up a storm of dust along the dirt road. It was running so fast that the wind whistled in Rocky’s ears—it was steadier and faster than a motorcycle!

Rocky was overjoyed, clinging to the donkey’s mane. "Holy mother of pearl! I had no idea this donkey had this much kick!"

"You're my hero! Keep going! I'll buy you ten pounds of premium hay when we get back!"

The donkey beneath him seemed to take the compliment to heart, picking up even more speed. However, just as Rocky thought he was about to make his grand escape, the old donkey performed a precision ninety-degree drift and slammed on the brakes. It came to a dead stop right in front of two people.

Nancy was waiting with a bright smile, while Simon stood by with a cold, stern expression.

Without a word, Simon moved in. Click. The handcuffs snapped onto Rocky’s wrist while he was still clutching the donkey’s mane. Rocky stared at the silver shackles on his hand, then looked down at the donkey, who wore an expression that said, All in a day's work.

Rocky suffered a total mental breakdown. "What?! What kind of traitor-breed donkey is this?"

"You can't even tell friend from foe, you four-legged traitor! That hay I promised? Consider it gone!"

The scruffy old donkey let out a triumphant bray, flicked its tail, and trotted over to Nancy, affectionately nuzzling her palm. Clearly, from the very beginning, this "Donkey" had been working for the police.

The donkey flicked its tail. "Obviously we gotta side with the right team, that way, we'd get the best hay! By siding with the police, we'd be fed everyday! Dumb thieves like you know nothing about that!"

Nieman had been gored by an ox, Finn had been pecked by hens, and Rocky had been betrayed by a donkey. The three tomb robbers were all in custody, sporting matching silver bracelets and looking utterly bewildered as they were loaded into the police van. How could they have been this unlucky?

Simon did a head count and frowned. "Four suspects in the village, but we only have three."

Nancy flipped through her sketches, her face darkening. "It’s Canine. Their leader. He’s the most skilled and the most cunning."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Master Crow fluttered down, his tone urgent. "Ms. Nancy! The sparrows reported that Canine ran for the old cemetery the moment he heard the whistle. He’s hidden himself in a secret chamber they built under the graves!"

"Hiding in a rat hole because he can't run?" Nancy let out a cold laugh. "Perfect. We’ll sweep up the artifacts and the rats all at once. It’s time for those national treasures to see the sun again."

"Let’s go, little bird!"

The group rushed to the cemetery behind the village. As evening approached, the setting sun splashed a blood-red light across the desolate graves. Long shadows stretched out from the uneven tombstones. A few sparrows chirped at the front of the line, leading them to a well-hidden entrance marked by fresh dirt.

However, the entrance was clearly rigged with a sophisticated mechanism. As the team studied how to open it, a harsh, threatening voice echoed from within. It was Canine.

"Don't waste your breath! This mechanism was a trade secret designed by our ancestors! If you try to force your way in, the explosives will trigger instantly. Everything in here will be blown to smithereens! No one gets the prize!"

Canine paused, his voice tinged with the desperation of a cornered beast. "Prepare a car for me, fully fueled! Let me go!"

"Otherwise, we all go down together!"

Simon’s eyes turned icy. The man was actually using national treasures as hostages. While Canine hid in the dark, gloating in the belief that the police wouldn't dare charge in, the little water snake poked its head out of Nancy’s pocket.

It hissed in a tiny, high-pitched voice. "See that dial with the markings? Turn it three times to the right until it clicks, then twice back to the left. Finally, just flip it up and it’ll pop right open."