?Mobile reading Due to the rapid fading of his vitality, Ramos, now in a final surge of strength, managed to break free from the immobilizing spell. Eight Zero E-book However, even thus, he had no chance of continuing. His trachea was severed, yet he still managed to tremble and extend one hand, pointing at Isabella, his voice indistinct: "King Fere will surely kill you and avenge me!" The beautiful officer smiled coldly. "Perhaps that's true. But you'll certainly not see that day. You should feel honored—after all, you are the first vampire I've ever killed personally!" Ramos tilted his head and passed away. "Shasha, I think we should be more cautious," Qin Feng suggested. "What do you mean by cautious?" the beautiful officer didn't quite understand. He didn't explain further, but demonstrated his point through action—retrieving a splintered armor projectile equipped with a remote-triggered fuse and placing it beneath the body. When the armor-piercing shell explodes, it generates a high-temperature metal jet that can burn a large hole through even thick tank armor—let alone a human body. The beautiful instructor raised her thumb and said, "Indeed, a cautious approach. However, only elite vampires possess the ability to regenerate, and it requires a complex process. So, your method seems somewhat unnecessary!" "Hey, being careful never goes amiss," he replied, producing a remote control. "If this guy keeps haunting me, I'm not afraid of him following me—because I didn't kill him!" Isabella's face darkened. "You mean his spirit will definitely be following me, don't you?" Qin, the young noble, smiled awkwardly. "Not at all. I'm actually worried that his spirit will seek out his master—then we'd be exposed!" The beautiful instructor found his reasoning quite perplexing. The two of them soared upward. As the red button was pressed, the penetrative shells exploded, shattering Ramos' body into countless fragments, which were then incinerated into ash by the intense heat. With a seamless coordination, they flew toward the pyramid, where the next phase—interrogation—would begin. When the elder stepped out of the small tripod, the effect of the immobilizing spell was still active. Qin, the young magnate, bound him securely in a chair and then doused him with a sudden pour of cold water. This was not intended to end the spell, but rather to signal the commencement of the interrogation. Isabella sat at a distance, idly twirling her dagger, appearing completely relaxed. Qin approached, grabbed the elder's hair firmly, and smiled, saying, "Old man, I know you can hear me. So listen carefully—whenever you give me satisfactory answers, I'll consider sparing your life. Of course, you're free to choose not to cooperate. I have a thousand ways to make you speak, though you may have to endure a few hardships!" The old man was filled with dread. In his mind, Ramos was nearly invincible—except for his master, King Fere—no one had ever been his equal. Yet now, from the relaxed expressions of both men, it was clear that Ramos was in serious trouble. As time passed, the old man’s body gradually regained sensation, a subtle shift that Qin Feng had promptly noticed. "Well, then, let’s make our intentions clear," he said with a sniff. The old man was breathing rapidly, finding it difficult to adjust after having lost control of his body for so long and then suddenly regaining it. "What would you like to know?" he gasped. Qin, the young lord, smiled. "First of all, may I know your name and your duties? I hope that with our cooperation, we each gain what we need—doesn’t that make sense?" By "each gaining what we need," he meant that Qin Feng would receive the relevant intelligence, while the old man would secure his life. Both were wise enough to understand that certain things didn’t need to be stated explicitly. "My name is Wicks, and I am sixty-eight years old." "The elder replied, then added, 'As for my responsibilities, you should be quite clear— I am in charge of the Death Angels. This is our command center, where we receive and assign missions!' 'Who is responsible for training the assassins?' asked Qin Dashi. Weiks shook his head and said, 'I have no knowledge of matters outside my purview, and my organization maintains no direct interaction with the execution teams. In fact, I've only heard secondhand accounts—there are dozens of training grounds for the Death Angels scattered around the world. As for their exact locations, I'm completely unaware!' Qin Feng expressed his disappointment. As a senior leader within an organization, how could he not know these details? Even if the information were highly confidential, wouldn't it still count as secret for those who had the opportunity to come into contact with it? Clearly, the elder wasn't committed to full cooperation and still held out some hope." "Well, anyway, I don't care much about those training grounds—I've never actually gone through the trouble of destroying them one by one." He shrugged and asked, "So, who exactly is the King of Fere, as Ramos describes him?" Weller was taken aback, maintaining composure on his face: "He's our top leader. He never interferes directly in organizational matters—he communicates with us exclusively via satellite phone..." "Cut the nonsense," Qin Feng interrupted, smiling coldly, "The King of Fere is of the Bloodline, isn't he?" "Old man," he said, "I know far more than you imagine. So I'm telling you now—better be sharp. You're absolutely not going to get away with it. And as for playing games with me, the only result will be a reduced chance of your survival!" Wicker was drenched in cold sweat. He had assumed his opponent would be a younger person, someone easier to manipulate—only to find out that he'd been spotted right from the start. Qin Feng continued, "Don't forget, I'm also a killer by training—there's no secret I don't know!" Wicks shook his head, "I didn't lie. I swear!" "Very well, I'll believe you for now." Qin Feng then asked, "What's the actual relationship between the Island of Death and the Angel of Death? Answer me when you've thought it through!" Isabella, standing beside him, instinctively leaned forward, her ears perked up—she was the first to suspect a connection between the two, eager to hear the answer. The old man frowned, serious in tone, "These are two completely unrelated organizations. How could you possibly think otherwise?" "Damn it, unrelated!" He slapped him hard. Crack! With the crisp sound of the slap, two of the old man's teeth flew out with a stream of blood. Thud! Then came a powerful kick, sending him sprawling—person and chair both—landing in a most miserable state. Qin Feng shouted, "Old man, don't think because you're getting on in years that I won't dare to fight you! Say it again—there's no connection between your two organizations! Say it!" Wick cried, "They truly have no connection—absolutely none!" Swoosh... swoosh... Two flying daggers pierced his palms and drove deep into the ground.