The more he approached the bedroom door, the clearer the Y-melody became. The Eighty-Electronic-Book Slayer felt that, under such circumstances, there was absolutely no need to deploy his signature move—the Silent Glide. He had perfected this step until it produced absolutely no sound, even the most sensitive electronic devices could not detect it. It was precisely thanks to this technique that he had been unstoppable in his missions, no matter how sophisticated the security measures. He quickened his pace and reached the door, extending his left hand to open it while raising his dagger high in his right hand. Open the door, step forward swiftly, then plunge the dagger into Qin Feng’s body—then turn and retreat. This was exactly the sequence he had planned. The dagger carried a potent blend of over one hundred snake venoms. Once it pierced the human body, regardless of whether it struck a vital area, the victim would be beyond saving. Click... the latch emitted a crisp sound as the door swung open. The God of Death surged forward, rushing into the room where two figures were engaged in passionate intimacy beneath the sheets. With a single stroke, he cut through the trembling bed. Something felt off—the blade should have penetrated the body with greater resistance. He yanked the sheets aside, only to realize he had been deceived: beneath the fabric, the sheets were crumpled and tangled, with no one present—yet the bed continued to sway. People were beneath the bed! Swish... just as he made his judgment, a sudden coolness washed over his ankle, and he was struck. Huff... a figure descended from the sky, accompanied by a golden glow that surged toward his crown. The God of Death lunged forward, narrowly avoiding the fatal thrust and landed on the bed. Though his crown was safe, his back was less fortunate—cut by a sharp dagger, leaving a long, searing wound. Thud… pffh… The person hidden beneath the bed launched an attack, firing bullets through the bed frame that grazed the death god’s scalp, leaving a trail of abrasions. Román had ducked beneath the bed, while Qin Feng had leapt down from the ceiling. As soon as the death god entered through the window, the two had already coordinated—performing a vivid “living spring palace” scene with just their mouths! The death god, overconfident and complacent, was indeed caught off guard and swiftly overwhelmed by the well-prepared duo. Román first sliced a deep wound across the death god’s wrist—though it didn’t sever the tendons, it was enough to cause significant pain. Qin Feng’s downward strike dealt even more serious damage; had the death god not managed to dodge in time, he would have been reduced to a lifeless body. Though he successfully evaded three critical blows in succession, the death god’s heart still pounded with anxiety. For years, it had always been he who had orchestrated others’ fates—this was the first time he had ever been outmaneuvered. He rolled horizontally off the bed, grasping the bed's end with one hand and thrusting his sword toward Román, who had taken cover beneath it. Pfft... pfft... Two bullets met him head-on. The god of death didn't dodge—he flicked his wrist, using the dagger to deflect the bullet heads, then drove his blade forward with unbroken momentum, continuing the thrust toward Román. At the very moment he was attacked, he immediately sensed that the one hiding beneath the bed was weaker—someone who naturally sought out the easier targets. That was a choice any ordinary person would make. By eliminating one, he could then focus his full attention on the other. Though Román desperately tried to evade, the god's movements were too swift. A series of feints forced her into a corner, and as the dagger closed in, she found herself completely helpless. "Get down!" Qin Feng kicked the god in the shoulder. The man landed with a solid thud, face-first, like a dog that had been knocked over. Román's immediate threat was thus eliminated. She scrambled out from beneath the bed, using both hands and feet. "Strike while the iron is hot"—this has always been Qin Daxiao's mantra. After securing his first advantage, he swiftly wielded his blade, rolling with the momentum of a killing god across the ground, slicing the high-end carpet into fragmented pieces. The Death God extended one arm to steady himself, then drove his blade forward. Ting—just as it met Qin Feng's fire-throwing strike, the two impacts resonated with a crisp, clear sound. Lu Man adjusted her breath, gripped her rifle tightly, and continued firing—but each bullet was deftly evaded by the killing god. In elite duels, close-combat weapons often outperform ranged arms, which is precisely why Qin Feng, Isabella, and the Death God all favor daggers. A dagger, after all, extends the reach and mobility of the wielder's arm—offering reliability and agility that no firearm can match. Outside observers, upon hearing the commotion, didn't rush in to assist; instead, they stared at one another, stunned. By the time they reacted and had barely lifted a foot, there came a loud crash as the main bedroom window shattered. A figure leapt out, stumbled, rolled across the floor, and took off running. Upstairs, Qin Feng and Lu Man stood together at the window. Lu Man was about to jump out to follow, but Qin Feng intercepted her first, smiling, "No need—didn't you forget we still have a third person?" "It's good of you to help," said the beautiful manager. "Come on, you're still helping? You're already lucky to not be causing a scene," said Qin, the young lord, cutting in. "I know exactly what you're thinking—your hope is simply to defeat the divine killer, right? I'll tell you straight, without worrying about hurting your self-esteem—you're not up to par against him." Her eyebrows raised as her inner thoughts were exposed, and she scoffed, "At least that's better than staying here and being eaten alive by you, isn't it?" "Qin Dashi turned around, pointing at the messy room and stared at him, saying, "Everything's this disheveled now—how could I still think about such trivial matters? You really underestimate Fengge!" Luoman caught his grammatical flaw, pinning him with a look, saying, "That means you're admitting you were quite messy yourself, didn't you? Qin, I'm telling you—just staring at me won't work. If you dare make any move on me, I'll go tell Mei Hui and Fang Fang." Oh, go ahead with that threat—I simply can't take it seriously. When you see how they'll stand—will they support me or you? Mei Hui and Fang Fang have a level of grace and breadth that most people can't even imagine. Seeing him unmoved and even playfully crossing his arms over his chest, Luoman continued, "I'll just tell them that I'm determined to eliminate you—your Shura. You haven't killed me yet, and you've kept me by your side not only because you admire my beauty, but also because there are other, more secret reasons..." "Big sister, I'm sorry!" Qin Dashi was almost on his knees—this move was simply too sharp. The beautiful manager declared with confidence, "Then, will you dare to do that again?" He bowed gracefully and replied, "No, I won't." She held her head high, commanding, "Make a vow!" Qin Dashi raised his right fist solemnly, "I swear, as long as I never have any designs on Xiaomanman or harbor any improper thoughts toward her, let it be heaven or thunder that strikes me!" Wait a minute—why does it feel off? thought Romana, beaming with delight.