The atmosphere felt a bit awkward. Qin Feng knew clearly that he had stumbled into trouble, yet he kept forcing warm smiles. The newspaper bundle felt heavy in his hands, evoking a strange sense of familiarity that left him puzzled. It was the ordinary *Yinmin Daily*, available nationwide, with a publication date that checked out as a few days old. As he unfolded the bundle, and the object inside began to reveal itself, his heart quickened. It was a golden, curved hook shape; he reached out instinctively, and to his surprise, it felt warm and smooth—no cold, metallic stiffness as he expected. He pulled the remaining paper free, revealing a metallic object resembling a bone, with golden hues on both sides, bearing irregular patterns. The center displayed a vibrant, alternating blue and red gradient, like flowing clouds in the sky. The design was refined and distinctly contemporary, with a circular black protrusion embedded at the golden end. Qin Feng picked it up, ran his fingers over it, and murmured, "How did you appear?" "Could anyone who has visited the ruins of the Island of Death know that you are mine?" He pressed the black protrusion with practiced ease, and with a crisp sound, the golden blade automatically extended, bearing irregular, eerie patterns that conveyed a strong sense of time-worn erosion. The blade itself curved strangely, with the blade's back slightly rising to form an optimal angle with the handle. This was a dagger known as "Fire Meteor." According to legend, it was forged in the 17th century by a farmer using a meteorite that had fallen from the sky. Due to its unique composition, the blade maintained a constant temperature of twenty degrees regardless of ambient conditions, and wounds made with it would bleed continuously. The farmer's wife and children both died from cuts made with this dagger. He later gifted it to a passing Buddhist monk, who also eventually died during his travels. Among the world's ten most mysterious daggers, Fire Meteor ranks third. Two years ago, Huo Yin became Qin Feng's personal weapon, claiming the lives of both the Director of MI6 and the head of the Mafia during three SSS-level missions he completed. Without Huo Yin, these SSS-level missions would have been extremely difficult to achieve. To Feng, Huo Yin was not merely a dagger—it held significant meaning. Before triggering his self-destruct system, he deliberately left Huo Yin in his own room. This way, even if someone miraculously survived, upon seeing Huo Yin, they would assume that Feng had already perished. Moreover, should no one recover Huo Yin from the wreckage and it vanish from the world, who could have imagined that it was Feng Mo who had destroyed the Island of Death? People would believe that Feng Mo had perished with the Island, vanishing completely from history. Yet now, Huo Yin has not only reappeared but has been returned to Feng's hands. Even on the Island of Death, only a few high-ranking officials were aware of Feng's possession of Huo Yin. Now it seems that someone knows he was responsible for the death of the Island, and has a clear understanding of what has happened since. Yet Qin Feng has no clue as to who this person is—his forehead is already slick with cold sweat. He walks over to the computer, opens the courier company’s website, and enters the tracking number as written on the outer packaging. The tracking information shows the shipment began at a small pickup point in Beijing, was transported by air, reached the Plain City, then distributed to specific districts, and finally delivered by local couriers. "Who exactly is behind this, and what do they want?" Qin Feng's mind is beginning to race. Over the past few days, he has grown accustomed to living as an ordinary person and doesn't want to return to his former life. Moreover, the matter is far from simple—having destroyed the Island himself, even if he were willing to resume his life as a killer, he would likely face relentless pursuit from those now determined to bring him down. The Death Island is a vast organization—no one can be certain whether there are other branches beyond the people and facilities on the island itself. As the saying goes, "Without desire, one is strong." In the past, he had no attachments, which allowed him to repeatedly accomplish SSS-level missions. But now, things have changed. He has new roles, close companions like Mei Hui and Fang Fang, and loyal followers such as Hou Bao. Thus, he can no longer act with the same unconstrained freedom as before. Since the other side has managed to send things here, it means they now have complete knowledge of everything related to him. He paced back and forth in his office, utterly puzzled. Before taking action, he had received clear confirmation that all members of Death Island had been recalled—this solidified his decision. After all, if he cuts the grass but fails to remove the roots, the wind of spring will bring it back to life. He certainly doesn’t want to enjoy his freedom only to keep hiding from the eyes of other members—such a situation would surely be tragic. If he couldn't achieve true freedom, he certainly wouldn't have touched the self-destruct system. After the explosion on Death Island, he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he retreated to a hidden location and waited for seventy-two hours, only feeling at ease when he was certain no one else had emerged from the ruins like him. When he finally departed, he left absolutely no trace—no matter whether a spy satellite was overhead at the time, it couldn't have detected his movements. Caution has always been the foundation of his survival over the years. Now, however, he feels a sense of profound sorrow, having believed he had outwitted the world only to discover that his conviction was merely his own. "No, I must find out who sent the package," he said, striking a fist into the office desk, his voice firm. "If I can destroy you once, I can do it again!" He felt it was necessary to reach out to He Muqing, even though he still didn't know the woman's true identity. Yet he could clearly sense that there was some power behind her—perhaps through her, he could locate the person who had sent the items. In fact, he had a strong impression that this matter was somehow connected to He Muqing. Yes, it was possible that she suspected Qin Feng's identity, deliberately creating confusion by sending over the evidence collected from Death Island, thereby making him lose his composure. Qin Feng took a deep breath and dialed the phone number left by the beautiful woman the last time.