While reading on her phone, He Muqing felt a little excited when she received Qin Feng's call. After two interactions with the Eighty Electronic Book and following Shu Yajing's research, she had strong grounds to believe that Qin Feng hailed from the Island of Death. Twelve bullets eliminating seven gunmen—this was no ordinary feat. Over the past few days, she verified that all eight gunmen had previously served as mercenaries abroad, demonstrating strong combat capabilities. That evening, Qin Feng had only one bullet miss, the rest of which were cleanly taken by the seven gunmen, four of whom were brought down with a single headshot. He Muqing knew her own shooting skills were far from this level, especially under the pressure of intense combat situations. In a close-quarters battle, managing to knock down one opponent with a full burst of bullets was already considered excellent. The cinematic scenes where a hero, like a pig or a crane, unleashes a powerful attack and instantly eliminates an enemy—such scenes simply didn't happen in reality. Otherwise, the reports of U.S. troops in Iraq requiring tens of thousands of rounds of fire to kill a single enemy would never have been possible. From this point, it's at least clear that Qin Feng is a skilled marksman—such expertise can only emerge from the military or from top-tier assassination organizations; amateurs simply can't hope to achieve it. Combined with his clear knowledge of the precise location of Death Island and the fact that Wei Qingtian was targeted for assassination, these details together make the case compelling. Seeing her sitting alone on the chair, smiling awkwardly, Shu Yajing asked, "Boss, what's up?" He Muqing set aside her smile, sat up straight and said, "Qin Feng is coming." Shu Jing's eyes widened: "What? Qin Feng is coming? Isn't that a joke? That young man has always been eager to come to us—every time he sees us, he acts as if we're his enemies, always trying to avoid us. When has he ever been proactive before? He Muqing, with her adorable demeanor, wrinkled her nose and said, "Life is full of uncertainties. Maybe he's been influenced by us two beautiful women, and now feels he should be open and honest with us—confident in himself, and confident in his work!" Shu Ya calmly replied, "Just be self-absorbed, then. I'm far more self-aware—this possibility is far less likely than winning the lottery jackpot." He Muqing also felt a bit overly self-absorbed and added a diplomatic remark, "Once he arrives, everything will become clear." Over these days, He Muqing and Shu Jing have repeatedly extended invitations to Qin Feng, only for him to consistently decline—each time with clumsy, frustrating excuses. Excuse one: busy with meetings. Excuse two: busy attending meals with superiors. Excuse three: my dog is unwell and needs someone to accompany him. Excuse four: my uncle has arrived. Excuse five: ... And so on. These excuses nearly drove He Muqing crazy, and Shu Jing was no less exasperated. "Boss, shall we get some tea?" Shu Yajing asked. He Muqing thought about Qin Feng's attitude over the past few days and couldn't help but erupt: "We're serving him matcha tea, and already, I'm not giving him barley water—that's all the face I'm showing! When he comes over, he won't even get plain water. Remember that!" Shu Yajing nodded. A few minutes later, Qin Feng arrived. Before entering, he had been puzzled, unable to understand how someone of such high rank could prefer working at this quiet, unremarkable third-street precinct. With her rank, even if she stayed in five-star hotels every day, no one would dare to say a single "no." Rivals meet—especially when they're on the brink of conflict. Well, that's not quite accurate. In truth, it wasn't that serious. What mattered was that He Muqing suspected Qin Feng of being the killer on Death Island, while Qin Feng suspected He Muqing of being the one who had secretly sent him the dagger. Even if they hadn't reached the level of rivals, they were practically on equal footing. Hei Meiren thought it necessary to make an impression, so she spoke in a warm yet neutral tone: "Oh, isn't this Qin Young Sir? How did you happen to come to our little town—what a privilege!" Qin Feng's face darkened. "Is that so? Are you not welcoming me?" Shu Yajing immediately picked up the same tone and added: "How could we possibly not be? Who doesn't know how influential you are, Qin Young Sir, with your strong network? How could we, as mere local police officers, dare to challenge you?" Qin Feng grew increasingly impatient and said: "I won't waste any more time. Hei Officer, Shu Officer, I've come today specifically to ask you for help." The two women exchanged glances, thinking: "Even you have moments when you need someone else's assistance—well then, let's see how you handle it." Hei Muqing glanced at him with her peripheral vision and remarked: "I'm quite busy—I have a meeting shortly." Qin Feng lowered his tone and said: "I can wait—I'm fine even if you have your meeting." Hei Muqing maintained the same tone as before: "After the meeting, I'll have to "This is classic payback—right back at you," Qin Feng said, frowning deeply and clenching his fists. "What about tomorrow? He-what's-his-name, if you dare say your dog is sick and needs care, I'll fight you to the death!" Shu, the police officer, managed to suppress her laughter. He, the handsome young man, lifted her head proudly and said, "I don't really like dogs, so you don't have to worry about that. But my period has started, and the doctor advised me to rest and avoid too much movement." Qin Feng nearly fell off his chair. Was this really the long-awaited karma? And how fast it had come! He turned to Shu, gritting his teeth and saying, "You can do it too, Officer!" Shu quickly waved her hands emphatically, "My period has started too!" Qin Feng felt a strong urge to offer them a generous gift—perhaps a whole package of sanitary pads. It was clear that these two were determined to stand in his way. Without something genuinely appealing to them, it would be hard to get them to willingly give their full effort. So far, he has essentially ruled out He Muqing's involvement—had the dagger been sent by her, she wouldn't have remained so composed. He sat back down in his chair, stared straight at the two stunning women for a moment, then said, "You've always wanted to know my identity, haven't you? Well, then, I'll tell you—your guesses were spot on." The two women exchanged a glance and both broke into a sly smile, just like foxes who had successfully snatched a hen. Indeed, there's something particularly charming about a beautiful woman smiling with a hint of mischief. He Muqing's first question cut straight to the heart of the matter: "The Death Island has already turned into a ruin—why are you still alive?" Of course, Qin Feng wouldn't tell her the truth; he invented a plausible excuse. "At the time, I was outside carrying out a mission, so I managed to escape unscathed," he said. "Hei Nüqing, He Daliang—both of you have already heard my explanation. Now, wouldn't you help me out a little?" Shu, the policewoman, covered her mouth with her hand, staring at him in sheer disbelief. Though she had harbored the same suspicions before, hearing the answer firsthand still left her stunned. After all, the Death Island was the most mysterious organization in the world—few even knew it existed, and those who did had only heard of it, never seen it in person. He, with a composed gaze, narrowed his eyes slightly, as if fully convinced, and spoke calmly, "It all depends on whether you can satisfy me. Don't think you'll get just one favor—ten or even twenty, as long as I can manage, I'll gladly accommodate you."