?Reading on mobile phone If Qin Feng from the past had been able to completely evade the surprise thrust attack from the Thunder Dragon, it would have been impossible. Even if he had suspected something earlier, the time he had to react was simply too short—he could only manage to shift his vital areas out of the way, inevitably sustaining injuries. There are many martial arts techniques in China that have been passed down for several hundred, even over a thousand years, with countless skilled practitioners. Qin Feng has never doubted this. As a killer, he has always been fortunate never to have undertaken any missions from the Chinese side. According to his knowledge, several of his esteemed colleagues on Death Island have died during such missions. While the Thunder Dragon's martial arts may not necessarily surpass Qin Feng's in skill, the saying "one strong technique, enough for all" holds true. For instance, the thrust attack he just delivered—had Qin Feng not become a cultivator, he would certainly have been at a disadvantage. It was precisely thanks to his mid-tier Strong Body stage that he was able to shift his body and successfully evade the attack. Fang Fei, standing behind, instinctively jumped to the back of the utility pole, her small head peering out, eyes wide with anticipation as the scene unfolded. The Emei spear in Bo Li's hands was clearly an extended version, with a serrated groove along its sharp tip, enhancing both its offensive power and its ability to deliver a potent toxin. Qin Feng raised the bag in his hands, shielding himself from the spear. The spear easily pierced through the bag containing lean pork, and Qin Feng then lifted his left foot, kicking at Bo Li's abdomen. Bo Li stepped sideways, and his empty right hand was instantly struck by a spear tip. He then launched attacks from both sides, the two sharp tips moving with the agility of serpents emerging from a hole, precisely targeting vital areas. Qin Feng tossed the bag aside and engaged Bo Li in close combat, the two exchanging blows, maintaining a balanced contest. After several exchanges, Bo Li's initial vigorous and pressing style had softened, and his commanding presence was gradually worn down by Qin Feng's steady pressure. Assassination hinges on suddenness—once the element of surprise is lost, it's essentially a declaration of failure. The longer the encounter lasts, the greater the psychological pressure borne by the dragon. This pressure is not imposed by Qin Feng; it stems from the dragon himself. As the dragon begins to hesitate, his otherwise smooth movements falter noticeably. Qin Feng seizes the moment, sidesteps and delivers a flying kick with his left foot, successfully piercing through the defensive lattice formed by two Emei spears and striking precisely the dragon's right chest. Thud, thud, thud… The dragon staggers back several steps before regaining balance, his body trembling with surging qi and severely damaged meridians. Though he only loses this single exchange, he is now certain that continuing the fight would be futile. Combined with his growing desire to retreat, he turns and makes a break for it. Cutting grass without removing the roots—when spring winds blow, it grows again. Qin Feng will not allow the killer to escape unchallenged. Apatosaurus's escape skills were absolutely top-notch. Though towering and robust, he had trained extensively in light-footed movements, and when he galloped, he could easily outpace Usain Bolt. Qin Feng kept pace with him, not to be outdone. Fang Fang stepped out from behind the utility pole, tilting her head and murmuring to herself, "So, who exactly is Sister looking for? Well, he does look quite handsome when fighting—no, I'd better follow!" The young girl took off with her long legs. Back in elementary school, she had been the school's long-distance running champion. Though she didn't quite match the speed of the two more extraordinary athletes ahead, she still moved with solid pace. The residential area was dotted with green spaces and theme parks, so Apatosaurus had no concern about escaping. It was morning, and there were always many people out for dog walks and physical exercise. He deliberately moved toward crowded areas, increasing his chances of making a break for it. The earlier clash had happened in the span of a few seconds; Qin Feng hadn't had time to draw his gun, and now he had even less opportunity. Without a valid firearm permit, firing prematurely would create significant logistical issues. Moreover, firing in such a public setting would inevitably cause panic, clearly working against the dragon's escape. The gun was out of action, but the throwing knives remained a viable option. He shifted his hand away from the gun's grip and picked up a small dagger, about fifteen centimeters long, aiming to launch it at the right moment. Sssss— The dragon heard the sharp crack of the blade slicing through the air and immediately attempted to dodge, but it was too late. The knife struck precisely at his lower leg—exactly where Qin Feng had aimed. He had deliberately chosen to spare the dragon's life, hoping to glean intelligence about the "Shengmen" from its mouth. The Shengmen remained a mystery to everyone, whether seasoned veterans like Hou Bao or the accomplished female officer He Muqing with her special status—both knew only the basics about it and the entire Tianli Sect. As one of the Four Pillars of the Shengmen, Bo Long had direct access to senior figures. Only by opening his mouth could one achieve a deep understanding of his adversaries and achieve victory after victory. Once his lower leg was wounded, Bo Long instantly became a lame man, his running speed plummeting to a near standstill. Qin Feng remained calm and composed, planning to capture him in a quieter area. Indeed, Bo Long headed straight for a narrow alley, prompting a subtle upward curve of Qin's lips—the young man smiled, for this was precisely self-enclosed. If Bo Long had chosen to weave through crowded areas, Qin would have truly been at a loss. At the very moment when Qin turned to enter the alley, he collided with a pink-clad figure emerging from the other end. The other person was soft-bodied, and the impact sent out a high-pitched cry, reminiscent of a soprano: "Ah…" Qin's eardrums ached from the force of the collision, while the pink figure wavered unsteadily. Instinctively, Qin extended his arms, encircling the supple, willowy waist of the other. Then, a graceful turn followed—both bodies spun together—until they finally settled Oh, isn't that the girl who's been staring at me all along? The one with such youthful looks yet such a towering figure. At this moment, Fang Fei and Qin Feng are pressed closely together, especially her chest, which has been compressed into an entirely different shape. Qin, the young noble, can't help but mentally exclaim—this girl truly has potential. He had assumed she'd be wearing a thick bra, and given her young age, how could she have such a full, upright bust. Fang Fei's bra is the standard thin one; as a young woman still in her formative years, she's already wearing adult lingerie. To keep her bust size from appearing overly prominent, she consistently opts for the thinnest styles. The two stand in an unusually intimate posture by the wall, evoking endless imaginings. "Let go of me! I'm so bored!" Fang Fei realizes she's being outmaneuvered and calls out softly. Only then does Qin remember that he's chasing a dragon, not wasting time on a mere girl. He releases her, steps back, and says with a sniff, "I'm not interested in children. Tell me—what makes you follow me?" I know! You're working with the killer! Saying that, he stepped forward again and once more pushed the young girl until her back pressed firmly against the wall. Fang Fei blinked in surprise: "You're wrong—you're accusing a good person of something unfair. I only followed you because I found it strange. How could I possibly be working with that man? Oh! Wait a minute—I just remembered—there was an old man with a limp who passed me earlier. That must be the one you're talking about!"