The Shop Vincent offered a calculating smile as he nodded deferentially to Qin Fen, who was stepping out of the car. "Back so early? I’ve already arranged your rooms. Please, follow me."
Vincent’s hotel was modest, only four stories high, featuring just one nicely decorated suite.
Qin Fen took the room key from Vincent, slowly stepping inside, his eyes meticulously sweeping every corner. Vincent’s previous excuse was clearly a fabrication.
“If there is nothing else, then…” Vincent backed toward the door. “I wish you both a pleasant evening.”
Closing the door, Vincent channeled his three-star martial arts prowess and swiftly darted up to the second floor.
Open door, close door, lock clicked shut!
Having secured everything, Vincent quickly activated a dozen surveillance monitors embedded in the wall. Every single one was connected directly to Qin Fen’s suite.
Typically, anyone occupying a suite carried a considerable amount of wealth. And people like that were often accompanied by attractive, well-figured women. Even if he couldn't touch the women, merely observing certain activities was immensely gratifying for him. Moreover, he could usually ascertain the guest's general background the next day. If it was just an ordinary rich businessman, he wouldn't hesitate to spike the water with a potent sleeping draught, allowing him to later indulge himself with the businessman's unconscious companion.
The monitor flickered with static once. Soon, the interior of the suite materialized on Vincent’s retina.
Inside the room, Qin Fen held Lin Ling close, watching television with a gentle expression. The water dispenser remained untouched. The complimentary colas on the table had not been disturbed either.
“Aren’t you thirsty?” Vincent stared at the screen, watching Lin Ling swallow repeatedly. His fists had clenched tightly without him realizing it.
Half an hour passed quickly. Vincent watched the screen, his eyes nearly spitting fire. Weren't these two glued together?
Suddenly, Qin Fen moved on screen.
Lin Ling sidestepped. Qin Fen picked up two cups from the table, cautiously sniffing them both before approaching the water dispenser.
Vincent lit a cigarette with a satisfied smirk. "No matter how tricky you are, kid, you can't escape my grasp."
On the screen, Qin Fen walked to the water dispenser, hesitated briefly, then placed the water cups back on the table, casually grabbing a canned beverage instead.
“Oh? Quite clever,” Vincent puffed smoke rings lazily. “Canned drinks theoretically can’t be tampered with. But that's only theory…”
Glancing around at the available drinks, Qin Fen again set the canned beverage down. He picked up the telephone from the table, simultaneously extracting a small card from his pocket—a phone number he had acquired from a nearby convenience store on the way back.
Vincent could no longer sit at ease. He jolted as if electrocuted, quickly fitting listening devices over his ears.
“Send two recently arrived colas, please,” Qin Fen’s voice traveled through the receiver into Vincent’s ears, causing the hotel owner’s expression to shift drastically once more.
The next second, Vincent leaped up from his chair, rushed out of the room, and sprinted downstairs.
Qin Fen gently rubbed his earlobe, a faint smile touching his lips. He moved to Lin Ling’s side, covered the listening device tucked into the sofa armrest, and murmured, “He’s been tricked into leaving. All the drinking water here is compromised.”
“I’m not thirsty,” Lin Ling looked up at Qin Fen. “What’s next?”
“Kill him,” Qin Fen replied, his expression utterly placid, not even raising an eyebrow. “When you’re being cautious, slip-ups are always possible. Eliminating him is the safest option.”
The target confirmed, neither spoke again. They leaned into each other, quietly settling into their optimal state, striving to dispatch the threat without causing any disturbance.
Not long after, the doorbell to the suite rang.
The instant Qin Fen opened his eyes, a sharp, chilling glint flashed in their depths.
“Coming, who is it?”
“It’s me,” Vincent said, his face a mask of forced pleasantries as the door opened. “Did you perhaps call for outside drinks? I happened to be at the front desk, so I sent the delivery person away. Are these the drinks you requested?”
“Yes,” Qin Fen gestured toward the table. “Just set them down there.”
“Right away.” Vincent bowed and shuffled in with small, hurried steps.
The slightly ajar door slowly swung shut, momentarily obscuring the hallway monitors. Just as it did, Vincent heard the sickening sound of bone fracturing behind him. Curious, he turned back to see Qin Fen holding something he had seen earlier that day: a heart. A still-beating heart.
“You—” Vincent instinctively raised his hand to his chest.
Qin Fen casually tossed the heart into the trash receptacle and turned toward the washroom to clean the blood from his hands.
Lin Ling snatched a box of tissues from the table and darted to Vincent’s side, stuffing every tissue into the gaping wound in his back, temporarily staunching the blood threatening to spill out.
By now, Vincent was dead, never knowing why these two had killed him.
A short while later, Qin Fen’s suite door opened again.
The monitors recorded Qin Fen and Vincent exiting the room, seemingly on good terms, walking shoulder-to-shoulder all the way to Vincent's room at the end of the hall.
Returning to the suite, Qin Fen, under Lin Ling’s watchful eye, swiftly inspected every corner of the room.
Soon, he located and disabled all dozen-plus pinhole cameras. Back then, Qin Fen could easily spot professional-grade surveillance probes hidden within the chaotic rainforest environment; Vincent's amateur setup was child's play.
After confirming the room was entirely safe, the two finally allowed themselves a measure of freedom, taking showers sequentially before finally settling into the massive bed together.
“It feels like we’re being watched,” Qin Fen whispered into Lin Ling’s ear. “Through the curtains, probably some kind of thermal detector…”
Before the words fully left his lips, Lin Ling’s soft, sensual body had burrowed into Qin Fen’s embrace.
“They really do seem to be a couple.”
In a room across the street from the hotel, the martial artist who had questioned Boss Zhe earlier lowered his thermal-detecting binoculars.
Lying in bed, Qin Fen’s nerves, tense from the entire day, found a measure of release. His mind was racing with countless thoughts, completely forgetting the woman in his arms capable of driving countless men wild.
Qin Fen understood clearly: to quickly capture Wang Hao’s attention, he didn't have time to slowly build a reputation in the fighting circles, as Chen Feiyu had. He needed to rapidly elevate his standing in a short period. The simplest path was to dominate the five-star venues and then demand entry into the six-star tier. A five-star martial artist challenging six-star opponents—if he could win—would surely draw the attention of various factions. For a force like Wang Hao, desperate for expansion, once his background and identity were verified, they would surely extend an invitation with maximum speed.
Fighting six-star level? Qin Fen felt a subtle thrill. The blood-soaked, frenzied opponents in the six-star ring would certainly not be like the sparring partners he faced in the barracks. After all, even in the most intense practical drills, both sides could, at most, exert one hundred percent of their strength. But in a real life-or-death struggle, a person’s focus level far exceeds that numerical value, leading to moments where combat performance exceeds the norm. Fighters accustomed to life-or-death bouts would undoubtedly strike with greater viciousness.
Lost in thought, Qin Fen drifted off to sleep, entering the world of dreams once more.
This time, it was a rare rest day.
Qin Fen floated in the air, feeling somewhat bewildered. He was supposed to be off, so why had he entered this place?
A burst of light flashed from the darkness. The sight of the “person” appearing made Qin Fen’s scalp tingle. In this bizarre training space, the individual he least wanted to encounter was that emotionless "Light Being."
“Again?” Qin Fen looked at the Light Being with concern. If he were suddenly ordered into seclusion during a mission, it could last three, five, or even seven days, easily breeding suspicion among others.
The Light Being slowly raised an arm, and a massive dynamic screen appeared before Qin Fen, slowly playing back footage of every one of his previous fights.
“Review. Summarize,” the Light Being’s stiff voice resonated. “Whichever battle you wish to review, merely think about it slightly, and it will appear.”
After displaying this, the Light Being vanished from the dream space for the first time without inflicting any torment.
Qin Fen watched the projection screen excitedly. Before, after every fight, he could only close his eyes to mentally review the combat situation, inevitably leaving many details overlooked. Now, being able to easily view the actual footage made the process far more effective than quiet meditation.
He quickly called up the sparring footage against the veterans. The momentum he unleashed with the Dragon Form Ascent during the day had a distinct air of supreme command; this was the perfect time to consolidate his insights into the Dragon Form Fist.
In a secluded corner of the city, two middle-aged men in black suits stared grimly at photographs spread across a table. These were pictures of the three black-clad men Qin Fen had shot and killed earlier that day, now corpses.
“Number Nine doesn't use firearms; it clearly wasn't him,” one stated.
“Agreed. The shots hit vital points on all three. Judging by the crime scene photos, they were killed instantly, giving them no time to evade.”
“Find Number Nine, find the shooter, and kill them all.”
In another heavily guarded compound elsewhere in the city, photos and video recordings of Qin Fen's blood-soaked, frenzied battles were being played, one after another, in silence.
“General, we have a general idea of these two’s backgrounds.”
“Recite it.”
“Both have military backgrounds…”
The night passed swiftly.
Qin Fen opened his eyes, stretching his limbs. Although he hadn't managed to fully integrate the Dragon Form Fist to create a style uniquely his own, the night spent reviewing the footage yielded substantial gains. He never believed that forging a boxing style entirely his own would be easy, so he wasn't overly disappointed by the lack of immediate breakthrough.
After washing up and eating breakfast, the two left the hotel and headed straight for [Bloody Frenzy]. No one at the hotel attempted to stop them. Everyone had received instructions from Boss Vincent the previous day: these two were honored guests; they were not to question anything the guests did.
Arriving again at [Bloody Frenzy], Qin Fen glanced at the cars parked in the lot. Compared to yesterday, there were far more high-end vehicles parked there, all appearing to be bulletproof models. People arriving in armored cars? Qin Fen was slightly surprised; the factions here had received news faster than he anticipated.
“You still want number forty-four?” Lisa, the badge distributor, now asked with a tone of inquiry. After work yesterday, she had watched the recorded footage of Qin Fen fighting the Butcher of Fingers, and her impression of the ruthlessly efficient young man had changed considerably.
“Yes.” Qin Fen took the badge and walked directly toward the elevator leading to the basement level.
“Wait a moment…” Lisa spoke up instinctively. “That leads to the six-star floor, the basement level.”
“I know.” Qin Fen looked at the elevator door that had opened, then back at Lisa. “Is there a rule here that forbids me from fighting there?”
“This…” Lisa looked troubled and shook her head. “No, there isn’t. It’s just… you are a five-star strength level; going down there might…”
“It’s fine that I can go. Thank you for your concern.”
Qin Fen, holding Lin Ling’s hand, entered the elevator bound for the basement floor, leaving Lisa staring in stunned silence.
The elevator doors closed for several seconds before Lisa snapped back to reality. She hastily grabbed her phone and dialed a few familiar internal numbers. “General, the young man who killed the Butcher of Fingers yesterday is here.”
“He’s here? Excellent!” Macarjo’s face broke into a grin as he held the phone, taking large puffs of his cigar. “Today, not only have several factions sent observers, but some Generals are attending in person, all specifically to watch him.”
“But…” Lisa hesitated before continuing. “He went to the basement level.”
“Basement level? Didn’t you tell him he was in the wrong place? That’s the six-star section…”
“I did,” Lisa replied with clear difficulty. “But he said he specifically wants to fight in the six-star tier.”
“I see. Continue your work,” Macarjo hung up. He stood silently for a few seconds, gripping his cigar, then suddenly slammed it onto the desk, rose without a word, and headed toward the elevator bank.
“General, you really are…”
“What else can I do? I need to inform General Wang and the observers sent by the other Generals. That arrogant kid went down to the basement level yesterday to seek death.”
The elevator to the basement level opened slowly. Qin Fen, hand-in-hand with Lin Ling, stepped inside.
Since it was still early morning, many spectators had not yet arrived, and the drawing for the first matches hadn’t even begun. Several martial artists who had arrived early turned as they heard the footsteps. The moment they saw Qin Fen, strange looks appeared on their faces. Even the early spectators who had claimed front-row seats looked at Qin Fen as if he were a monster.
“Kid, did you come to the wrong place? This is the basement level, not the second basement level.”
“Number forty-four.” Qin Fen handed the identification token to the stout man staring at him in surprise. “I am applying for a challenge match.”
The stout man did not immediately register Qin Fen’s number. Instead, he looked up at Qin Fen and gruffly stated, “Kid, you might have the wrong place…”
“This is the basement level, the fighting arena for six-star martial artists. I am well aware,” Qin Fen calmly interrupted. “Five-star practitioners earn significantly more income fighting here, correct?”
“Correct…” the stout man sneered. “Unless you have a bio-beast, your chances of winning are zero. But if you had a bio-beast, you wouldn't be poor enough to need to fight for stakes. So…”
“Sign me up,” Qin Fen pulled out his money. “Are bets placed here too? I bet on myself to win.”
The surrounding early arrivals were stunned silent. Had this young man not woken up? Or had he lived long enough? There was no need to seek death here.