The two of them moved swiftly, exchanging more than a dozen attacks within the span of a blink. As warriors born of the electronic book world—known for their lethal prowess—their attacks targeted vital points, aiming for decisive, one-hit kills. Qin Feng managed to strike the Immortal of Death several times, yet was astonished to find that the sharp flame-obsidian blade only penetrated less than three centimeters into the target's body. No matter how much force he applied, the result remained consistent. What was going on? With so little information available about the Immortal of Death's connection to the Wandering Demon, Qin Feng didn't know that the only vulnerable areas were the joints of the body—though the hand joints were as solid as steel. Thud… They exchanged a powerful punch. Qin Feng swiftly retreated, while the Immortal of Death merely swayed slightly, steadied himself, and then launched another assault. In terms of strength, Qin Feng fell short of the Immortal of Death. Though he excelled in agility, he could not inflict any tangible damage—his advantage in speed vanished entirely. He executed a sidestep, evading the opponent's deadly strike and simultaneously struck the back of the elbow of the Slayer with a reverse blow. Crack... the sound was crisp. Immediately, the Slayer, who had been radiating intense fury, seemed to slow down in his speech. What was going on? Identifying the enemy's vulnerability is a fundamental skill for any competent killer. He instantly realized that the opponent's joints might be the weak point. Then what was he waiting for? He should try again. Qin Feng now felt confident. With one hand he swung the Fire-Devouring Blade, while the other alternated between a fist and a palm, coordinating with the dagger to launch a coordinated assault. The Slayer's expression grew serious. After this prolonged engagement, he had failed to subdue Fengmo and had even allowed the opponent to uncover his own vulnerability—this was far from promising. He immediately adjusted his strategy: avoiding potential attacks on the joints while simultaneously gathering strength, seeking the decisive, one-hit knockout. Several hundred meters away, Isabella lounged with a relaxed expression, holding a cup of coffee in her hands and sipping it gracefully. She paused, savoring the taste. "Excellent indeed. The little rogue truly knows how to enjoy himself—every single one of his acquisitions is top-tier. His progress has been remarkable; he can now hold his own against the Slayer. The Slayer himself, though—he's been hesitant, almost hesitant, due to his one lame leg. Otherwise, how could the little rogue have been your match?" She first produced her dagger, Sarah维尔, then shook her head and set it aside. Next, she took out a single-handed double-barreled shotgun, shook her head again, and placed it beside it. Finally, she retrieved a round, egg-shaped hand grenade with a red casing, studying it for several seconds and murmuring to herself, "I hope this works—its explosive power equals three tons of TNT. I think the wizard should be able to withstand that." To be safe, she carried three in total, securing one on each side of her waist and one beneath her left shoulder, so as not to impede her combat movements. Since the Hero of Valor had changed his strategy, Qin Feng had gained no advantage at all—neither could he attack his joints nor reach his body. A few minutes later, Qin Feng was gasping for breath, utterly exhausted. The young man's stamina was simply extraordinary; he remained completely composed, his face unchanged and his heart steady. Gradually, a smile appeared on the Slayer's face. He knew the moment for counterattack had arrived. After building up such momentum, it was finally time to unleash a powerful move. "Feng Mo, you can die!" he roared, suddenly rising several meters in height. "The veteran coach lifted his shoulders and said, 'You've been persistent in asking me not to intervene too early, giving you ample time to show your strength. Now you're blaming me? Didn't I arrive in time? Are you injured?' 'No.' 'Then that's settled,' Isabella smiled. 'Stand aside and rest a while. Now watch me. Last time he escaped, this time I'll make sure he doesn't get away.' Rarely has Qin the Younger outsmarted the veteran coach. He was truly exhausted and simply didn't feel like arguing—so he stood quietly by. The killing machine struggled to his feet, only to have his most crucial moment disrupted. His frustration was now blazing. 'Isabella, why are you supporting him?' the killing machine demanded sharply. 'The veteran coach smiled. 'Why shouldn't I?' "Kill God narrowed his eyes: "I got it now. You two—this couple of lovebirds—have teamed up to destroy Death Island, haven't you? Isabel, I never thought you'd go so far as to dismantle our entire organization for a man." "You shut up! I'm a victim too, okay?" The beautiful instructor grew furious. Kill God was taken aback: "You're really saying that?" Meanwhile, Qin, the young noble, piped up with a smug tone: "Exactly. It was all me—single-handedly—destroying Death Island. Nothing to do with the beautiful instructor." Kill God was even more puzzled: "If you're a victim, shouldn't you have fought back for the organization? Why are you now siding with them?" "I'm fine with that!" the instructor snorted. "Do you want to fight? If not, just stand there quietly and let me kill you. Only when you're dead will I and that little rogue be truly safe." Laughter erupted. Kill God boomed with a proud, confident laugh: "Indeed, it's all for this young man." I never thought that Isabella, who had always remained colorless in her feelings for the opposite sex, would find herself falling for someone—should I perhaps believe in love? "Cut the chatter," the young, unaging officer said, unwilling to waste more words, and instead gripped his dagger to launch an attack. The warrior, who had previously been mocking, now stepped forward with his one lame leg. The two clashed fiercely, even more so than before. Qin, the young noble, found a stone and sat down—rare indeed to witness such a peak performance, a match not everyone could afford to see.