Federer soared through the air, swaying gracefully—clearly, the loss of his arm had a significant impact. Eighty Electronic Books (txt02.com) Xiao Ding followed closely behind, so Qin Feng and Isabella inside didn’t have to worry about being noticed. The man flew several hundred kilometers at once before gradually descending. From GPS tracking, it's evident that this region is part of the famed "Cactus Kingdom," economically underdeveloped yet environmentally excellent. Federer crashed to the ground with a tremendous sound, and soon people arrived, seeing his pale, distressed expression and asking, "Federer, what happened?" "Could you please bring me to the Angel of Death immediately?" he said weakly—having lost an arm and flown for so long, he had reached the limits of his physical endurance. "The Angel is here—we’ll take you right away." He called for his companions, who carried him in with a flurry of activity. This was the only underground structure, fifty meters thick from the surface, and further reinforced with four layers of one-meter-thick reinforced concrete, capable of withstanding the impact of the current strongest earth-penetrating missiles. Fedler took three elevator transfers to reach the lower level—a deliberate strategy to hinder intruders from entering smoothly. Upon seeing him, the Angel of Death was equally astonished: "What on earth? Where's your arm?" Fedler looked embarrassed and replied, "It was severed by Qin Feng and that troublesome woman. Your grace, Qin Feng is actually a Chinese cultivator!" "What?" The Angel of Death's astonishment deepened. "He wasn't one of the assassins trained at the Island of Death, was he? How could he possibly be connected to Chinese cultivators? He has been trained for over ten years and has served the Island for more than two years—yet he has never shown any signs of it. By the way, what is his actual strength?" "Federle replied, 'In terms of personal ability, he's no match for me—I can easily defeat him. But he has a helper, a stunningly beautiful woman, just like you and me, a member of the Bloodline!' To be honest, I was initially surprised, but now I'm truly stunned. The Death Angel, her expression as calm as still water, said, 'How can this be? Practitioners of cultivation uniting with the Bloodline—no one would believe it. And what about this woman's strength?' At this point, Federle's sense of embarrassment deepened. With a touch of humility, he added, 'She's merely an ordinary Bloodline member, not yet elevated to noble status. On her own, she's no match for me either. But when working together, their coordination is seamless—my injury came only because I wasn't careful enough!' The rest of his words were simply excuses for his own defeat. The Death Angel paused for several seconds, then looked up and said, 'You go rest now, recover thoroughly. I'll arrange for your arm to be severed and then regenerated.' 'Thank you, Your Grace.' Federle bowed slightly and then turned to leave. The Angel of Death frowned deeply, his brows forming a "川" shape, and with the tips of his right fingers gently tapping the table, murmured to himself, "How did a cultivator and a vampire come together? What exactly has Qin Feng endured over the past few months? It's certain that before the Death Island was destroyed, Qin Feng was merely an ordinary assassin, with no connection to the cultivation world. In less than six months, he has now developed the strength to challenge even a noble-blooded vampire—this is truly impressive. His expression soon relaxed: "Whether you're a cultivator or something else, in the end, you'll meet your fate. If you're not Federle's match, then certainly not mine!" He resolved to personally confront Qin Feng and swiftly complete the tasks assigned by King Fei Lei. Yet he hadn't anticipated that Qin, the young noble, had already successfully infiltrated the area, quietly and enthusiastically setting up bombs all around. To avoid detection, he and Isabella had been hiding inside the small dais, flying while continuously hurling bombs outward, all placed inconspicuously. Especially the several access corridors leading upward were treated as priority targets—after all, these bombs were borrowed from others, and using them was never a concern. As the small dais continued to advance, Isabella suddenly stopped him: "Xiao Feng, there's a strong metallic magnetic field surrounding us—this area must be crucial!" "Crucial? I don't see it," he replied, gazing at the images displayed in the empty space. "It's just plain metal walls—smooth and unremarkable." "You forgot," the beautiful instructor reminded him. "Back in Europe." "Right!" he exclaimed, tapping his forehead with a smile. "When we first executed the heist on the Yuris Gold Vault, it was exactly this setup—so what's the delay?" Soon thereafter, he used his flying sword to carve out a passage wide enough for the small dais to enter and exit. As they had expected, this was the death angel's treasury for storing wealth. While the amounts of gold, diamonds, antiques, and other valuables were not as extensive as those in Yuris' holdings, they still represented a substantial fortune. Isabella surveyed the room and said, "My initial estimate puts the value of these assets at over thirty billion dollars!" "That's quite a sum," Qin the young man exclaimed, his eyes shining as he gazed at the wealth before him. "I said thirty billion with some reservation," she smiled. "After all, these are ill-gotten gains—cleaning them up requires a certain cost. In terms of their intrinsic value, they're definitely worth far more than that. Xiao Feng, you've truly made it!" "Heh, everyone's doing well," he replied with a cheerful smile. "I'm not a stingy person. As the saying goes, 'when you meet, divide equally.' So let's split it evenly!" "The beautiful instructor shook her head: 'I don't need it—I'll take everything you have. And whatever's in my account, I'll transfer it all to you at a convenient time. So much money is never enough. Why not use it to start your own business? In that regard, you're far stronger than I am!' Qin, the young noble, was absolutely thrilled—he almost wanted to pledge his life as a token of gratitude. A few minutes later, everything here was empty. 'Let's keep pretending we're packing bombs,' he said with a mischievous smile, 'I think we should pack more, and have them explode first—so that those two vampire lords will feel the pain!' The beautiful instructor smiled back: 'Go ahead—whatever you decide. I agree we should pack more. If we can even blow the Death Angel right off his feet or trap him right here, that would be wonderful!' A great suggestion—implemented. Half an hour later, the room was packed with bombs, with an explosive yield estimated to exceed one ton of TNT. Unless you're truly blessed with extraordinary resilience, there's no way you'd survive." Even if they survive, they'll be trapped deep underground, perhaps fifty to sixty meters down—will they ever make it out? Could it be that the reinforced concrete layers, originally designed to withstand underground penetration, become the very obstacle preventing their escape, as they use shovels to dig their way out?