Upon hearing my shout, a beam of flashlight cut through the darkness again, appearing from the platform above.

That light shot directly at me, making it impossible to see who was holding the flashlight.

But since it was a person, I figured I had company, so I raised my hands and called up, "Hello, who are you? Is that Nobita?"

The light from the torch never moved; it remained fixed squarely on me.

I started to sense a strange atmosphere, as if the other party was intently observing me.

Then, I heard an extremely faint click, the sound one makes when disengaging a pistol's safety.

Hearing that sound, I instantly smelled danger and threw myself into a roll on the ground.

Just as I rolled clear, I heard two sharp cracks, and two sparks erupted from the ground where I had been.

While rolling, I had already brought my bow up, nocked an arrow, and released the shot in barely half a second.

The person above seemed to detect my movement and quickly flinched back out of sight.

Normally, they would have dodged that shot, but since the other party had already decided to kill me, I saw no need to hold back any longer.

With a flicker of will, I guided the arrow to curve.

I was supremely confident this time that I would strike them dead, but all I heard in the end was a grunt, followed by the swaying of the flashlight beam.

To figure out the identity of that individual, I prepared to jump up and see.

But before I could even rise, four flashlight beams converged downward upon me.

I saw four figures, each holding long implements, and knew things had progressed to the absolute worst scenario.

Even though I might no longer be considered ordinary, I was still flesh and blood; if those four semi-automatic rifles or machine guns opened fire together, I would quickly be annihilated without a burial site.

Realizing this, I knew I couldn't wait a moment longer. I pulled four arrows from the quiver on my back.

Historically, the most accurate archers include the famous Li Guang and Huang Zhong; Li Guang could pierce a willow leaf at a hundred paces, and Huang Zhong could fell two birds with one shot. But the only one capable of shooting four arrows at once to strike four different enemies belongs to the phantom figure Wang Bodang from Water Margin.

And now, it seemed, I was rewriting history.

Drawing the bow, nocking the arrows—I heard a thwack sound—and released all four arrows simultaneously.

Controlling the direction of the four shafts through sheer thought, I accurately aimed them at the four enemies.

However, I still had no intention of killing all four of them, as I had many questions I needed answered.

With a series of swish-swish-swish sounds, the guns in their hands were all struck down and sent flying.

Taking a brief breath, I sprang up in a single leap and landed on the platform.

Despite losing their firearms, the opponents showed no sign of giving up the fight.

Although surprised by my leaping power and archery, they quickly drew military knives and lunged toward me.

Harnessing the experience gained from fighting the Hellhounds, as the first person charged, I exerted control over his advancing left foot, causing him to instantly lose his balance.

The opponent clearly didn't know what was happening, throwing his entire body at me.

I don't know where this combat skill came from, but I grabbed one of his arms and executed a perfect shoulder throw, slamming him onto the ground.

As soon as this man was down, the second was already swinging his knife at me.

I retreated slightly, ducking past the blade, and delivered a textbook side-kick directly toward his abdomen.

In reality, as I stepped back, I had created distance from this man, making the kick impossible to land. Moreover, if I missed, this maneuver would surely throw me off balance, exposing a massive vulnerability for the opponent to exploit.

So the other man paused, utterly confused by what manner of martial arts this was.

My goal was precisely to make him confused. At that moment, a faint smile touched my lips.

As my foot shot out, I suddenly channeled my psychic energy, propelling my body forward rapidly, as if I had fire wheels beneath my feet.

This move was impossible for the opponent to defend against. He was sent flying by the impact of my kick.

Simultaneously, the person behind him who was trying to rush forward was also knocked down onto the ground.

Only one remained, and seeing my skill, he froze in place.

I noticed an arrow embedded deeply in his abdomen—it must have been the one I shot earlier.

He was heavily wounded, bleeding profusely, and appeared harmless, so I let my guard down slightly.

"Who exactly are you people, and why do you want to kill me?" I frowned and asked the injured man.

The man blinked, opened his mouth, and spoke a string of Japanese.

I couldn't understand a word he said, but at least I discerned that he was Japanese.

Seeing that I hadn't understood, the fellow spoke again in English: "You are going to die."

Having said that, he pulled a handgun from his waist and pulled the trigger.

We were extremely close; there was absolutely no room to dodge.

I barely had time to break into a cold sweat before feeling a sharp, agonizing pain across my forehead, and crimson blood immediately began to stream down my face.

In that moment, I thought I was dead, but my vision merely went black, and soon I realized I still had consciousness—this was definitely not the sensation of a bullet passing through the skull.

Looking closely, I saw something wet peel away from my face.

This object slid down my face, dropped to the ground, writhed a few times, and then stilled.

I realized it was the Atlantean entity attached to me; it had died saving me, its head completely shattered.

I didn't have time for grief or regret. I touched my face and found I had reverted to Nie Chuan's original appearance.

The shooter had clearly not anticipated this turn of events, but he only paused for a second before raising his gun again.

There was no way I would allow a second shot. I clenched my fist and threw a surge punch, launching him backward like a rocket.

The man tumbled backward several rotations and accidentally fell off the platform, emitting a series of screams as he was shredded into ribbons by the blades lining the slope.

I killed a man...

This was my first time taking a life, and my heart hammered uncontrollably.

However, the near-death experience just moments before left me shaken. I looked around to see if the men I had taken down were stirring.

To my surprise, all those men remained motionless on the ground.

I walked over and found they were all dead, white foam bubbling from their mouths.

"Suicide..." I sighed.

Clearly, these men, dressed in black undershirts, were highly trained soldiers.

After I subdued them, they chose suicide, certainly because they were executing a critical secret mission and preferred death to revealing anything to me.

I searched their bodies. Besides two handguns, several military knives, and some ammunition, there was nothing else useful.

Discovering the handguns should have been a huge gain, but I had no intention of taking them. To me, bullets moving too fast were uncontrollable—my bow and arrows were far superior.

The flashlights, however, were excellent items. I turned off three and tucked them into my waistband, keeping only one for illumination.

This feeling was akin to winning five million; I instantly felt rich.

After a quick survey, I stood up and looked around.

Finding no further clues, I sighed and prepared to continue climbing upward.

Shining the recovered flashlight above, I saw another layer of a 'mountain of blades' above me, and beyond that, the high cavern wall.

I jumped up and landed on the topmost ledge.

Then I discovered that on this layer, there were several human skeletons—I truly wondered how these people had managed to climb up here.

Though I didn't know how they climbed up, I knew how they died.

Because behind the mountain of blades lay an abyss fifty to sixty meters deep, within which flickered firelight—it was a sea of fire caused by molten iron and steel.

Imagine climbing thirty meters up a mountain of blades through sheer effort, only to see this ocean of fire—how utterly despairing that must have been.

Therefore, anyone who reached the top must have died from despair.

Shining the flashlight down, I observed that the fiery expanse was at least thirty meters wide, and on the opposite bank was a stretch of flat ground, thirty meters lower than my current position.

While I couldn't simply jump across, this terrain wasn't insurmountable; with a hang glider or something similar like a zip line, I could cross easily.

The key issue, however, was that nothing of the sort was present right now.

After thinking about it, I felt something was wrong. No matter where those dead men just now came from, they must have had a way to ascend, and certainly a way to descend as well.

I swept the surroundings with the light and discovered a handle situated right in the center of the blade mountain.

Pulling the handle forcefully, I realized it concealed a ladder built into the interior of the blade structure.

Shining the light inside, I detected no danger, so I began climbing down the stairs.

After descending thirty meters, I reached the deepest point inside the blade mountain, and turning around, I saw the exit leading toward the sea of fire.

Waves of intense heat washed over me, giving me the feeling that my hair was scorching.

Nevertheless, I walked toward the inferno, enduring the heat.

Stepping out of the exit, I saw a narrow path running along the wall between the fire sea and the blade mountain.

This path not only skirted the edge but also extended all the way to the center of the fire sea.

At the center of the fire sea, there was a circular platform roughly ten meters from the opposite bank.

I presumed the prisoners subjected to the fire sea's punishment were thrown from that platform.

What was a path to certain death for ordinary people had become a route to survival in my eyes.

I was confident that if I could just reach that spot, I could leap across using my superhuman jumping ability.

With that in mind, I began walking toward the heart of the fire sea, bearing the heat.

This path was constructed very narrowly. Although paved with insulating stone, the temperature in the middle was at least close to fifty degrees Celsius. I suspected many of the prisoners from years past might have died from heat exhaustion before even reaching the platform.