Dark as ink. At the Blood Shadow Secret Base, a man in a white work uniform spoke into the microphone: "Report to Blood God, a plane has flown low overhead and has been circling for a long time!" The man with the silver mask asked anxiously, "What kind of plane? A fighter or a bomber? Why has it been circling here so long?" "Based on radar characteristics, it's an older model light bomber, nearing retirement, primarily assigned to frontline bombing missions," the uniformed man explained. "It's been circling for so long—likely experiencing some mechanical issue. It might drop off its extra fuel tanks and ordnance to lighten the load." This is a common practice: when a plane develops a fault, landing with its weapons on board poses a significant risk. Typically, the ordnance is jettisoned in uninhabited areas to improve the chances of a safe landing. Of course, once the projectiles are dropped, they won't explode immediately—military personnel will handle them differently based on the location. "Keep a close eye on the aircraft's movements..." The silver-masked man had barely finished speaking when the uniformed officer interjected urgently, "Something detached from the aircraft and fell rapidly—its shape is elliptical, resembling a heavy bomb!" A heavy bomb. Missiles, if their warhead initiators remain unactivated, never explode under normal conditions. But with a heavy bomb—a conventional weapon—no one can be certain whether the immense impact force might not trigger an explosion. Everyone's hearts sank. Another uniformed officer shouted, "Calculations show that even if the bomb explodes, it won't pose a threat to the concrete ceiling overhead—everyone can rest assured!" Many people involuntarily exhaled in relief. Though the site was considered safe, it had never undergone actual combat testing, and even after all these years, no one could guarantee its resilience. As the bomb landed, vibrations rippled through the fortress, and dust drifted into the air. The bomb had indeed exploded, and everyone was safe. The silver-masked man finally breathed easy and issued the command: "Send a small team out to assess the damage. If it's severe, we'll need to make repairs!" The team was dispatched promptly, dressed in night-vision gear, wearing silent combat boots, and moving through a secret passage toward the explosion site. In fact, it hadn't been a small bomber at all—it had been Qin Feng dragging a long strip of tin foil, which created a very distinct radar signature in the air, appearing almost like a plane from a distance. As for the so-called heavy bomb, it was merely an oil drum wrapped in tin foil, containing about fifteen time-delayed bombs inside. The site was a sea of flames. A small team of about fifteen people walked steadily toward it and arrived shortly thereafter. After a thorough inspection, the leading member reported over the radio: "There's been no serious damage on site—just some stones shattered. The concrete layer has sustained only minor damage." The command center issued a new instruction: "Double-check everything, confirm the situation, then return." A black-clad man had just reached behind the stones when Qin Feng knocked him out with a single punch, then broke his neck, changed into his clothes, and seamlessly blended into the group. No one questioned the presence of an outsider among the team. After a careful inspection, the leader guided everyone back. Qin Feng deliberately positioned himself in the second-to-last spot—neither drawing attention from the front team nor risking the awkward situation if the last person were to be responsible for closing the gate. Upon entering the fortress, they first encountered a winding corridor, with thick concrete walls on both sides. They moved to an open area, and the leading member removed his mask and said, "You all go change into your uniforms and stand by—I'll report the situation to the Blood God!" Qin Feng still hadn't moved, because he noticed that everyone here was wearing masks. If that's the case, then why should he be afraid? Once he puts on a mask, who knows who he is anymore? Yes, that's exactly what he'd do—first figure out what's going on here, so as not to accidentally let anyone escape. Moreover, from the captain's words, it was clear that the person in charge was known as the Blood God. The fortress spans over ten thousand square meters, divided into several dozen distinct zones, most of which are training grounds. Although he couldn't open the doors, he immediately felt a familiar sense of recognition—this setting closely resembles the training grounds of the Island of Death. In addition, there are storage warehouses for weapons and food supplies, residential quarters for personnel, and several secure evacuation corridors. Without a doubt, the fortress is equipped with a self-destruct system similar to that of the Island of Death: should an external force invade and the fortress be unable to hold out, personnel would be evacuated first, followed by the activation of the self-destruct system, leaving the invaders with no place to retreat. However, this system is typically highly secure, and access is generally restricted to internal personnel. Thus, he abandoned his plan to deliberately damage the Island of Death and instead focused his efforts on the secure corridors. By sealing off these key routes, he ensured that no one could escape alive. Once he had fully assessed the situation, he began placing bombs throughout the facility. Each channel was equipped with dozens of C4 explosives, powerful enough to destroy anything within range. These explosives were simply taken from the weapons warehouse, in keeping with Qin's principle of using other people's money to achieve his own objectives. Finally, he reserved one dedicated channel, intending to deliver a decisive blow to any resistance here. After listening to his subordinates' report, the man in the silver mask concluded, "It must have been an accident during the military's training exercise—not a targeted operation against us. Everyone can rest assured. In recent times, we've secured several high-value assignments. You must give your best to offset the impact of our failed mission to China!" The six men in bronze masks responded in unison, "Understood!" After they departed, the silver-masked man removed his mask to reveal a pale face—handsome, indeed, though his eyes were strikingly unusual, with red pupils. He took out a tissue, carefully wiping the mask, murmuring to himself, "A minor task from the Chinese side—yet it has eliminated two senior assassins in succession, including Yuan Long, who has successfully completed over a dozen major assignments. What kind of opponent is this? Why is he so difficult to handle?" Just as he was puzzled, a loud explosion erupted. Before he could react, a series of explosions followed one after another. "What on earth is going on?"