This time, luckily, Zhang Heng wasn't continuously aiming at him, and it seemed Zhang Heng wasn't positioned upstairs either. As Zheng Zha leaped out of the vehicle, that life-threatening sensation didn't materialize. Looking around, there were only stunned employees huddled on the sides and some female employees screaming and frantically using their phones. In short, the scene was utter chaos—some stared blankly in Zheng Zha's direction, while others ran around wildly. Compounding this was the flurry of documents and papers kicked up by the armored car as it sped past, making the entire area look unequivocally disastrous.

Zheng Zha let out a breath. He retrieved his weapons from his storage ring: a micro submachine gun in his left hand and a high-vibration particle cutting dagger in his right. Without a second thought, he dashed toward the emergency stairwell.

The elevator was absolutely out of the question; it was practically an open invitation for the Grim Reaper to set a trap. He had no intention of walking right into the Reaper's hands to be toyed with by "coincidence." By contrast, possessing Qinggong, his stamina was several times greater than that of an ordinary person. The speed of taking the stairs was no less impressive than the elevator, and besides, he yearned to see what tricks the Reaper could possibly pull in the nearly deserted stairwell.

Zheng Zha’s total reserve of Neili was alarmingly low. Unlike the vast, quantified blood energy of the Blood Race, his was still confined to the level of internal energy enhancement, and there was simply too little of it. Before, he only felt this scarcity when using the storage ring, but now that he possessed martial arts—even if these techniques had no formal name, summed up merely as Qinggong—the sheer scarcity of his total Neili reserve finally became apparent. Sustaining the Qinggong state lasted less than a few minutes before his Neili would be utterly depleted. If his Qinggong suddenly failed during combat, he could be instantly defeated by that tiny lapse, especially since he faced moments of absolute life and death where the enemy or danger would afford him no quarter whatsoever!

Zheng Zha propelled himself upward using Qinggong at blinding speed. He was completely off the ground; the velocity was so immense that he was running along the outer wall of the stairwell as if the wall itself were flat, solid ground. Once the Qinggong was active, his body felt as light as gossamer, each footfall launching him upward swiftly. In barely a second, he had scaled to the next floor’s landing.

This television broadcasting tower was only about twenty-odd stories high. At this rate, he could reach the top floor in less than a minute by taking the stairs.

(If I were Zhang Jie, if I were Zhang Jie, he would definitely be waiting for me there… And as for Zhang Heng and Xiao Honglü, if I were Zhang Heng, if I were Zhang Heng…) As Zheng Zha ran, he suddenly felt something deeply amiss, as if he were being targeted by something—a dangerous sensation that clung to him like maggots to bone.

No matter how he darted left and right, the feeling would not dissipate. Looking over quickly, he realized the stairwell entrance on this floor was inexplicably lined with upward-reflecting glass. Following the reflection, Zheng Zha caught sight of Zhang Heng, drawn bow in hand, aiming from the corner of the upper floor’s landing. What puzzled him, however, was that Zhang Heng’s aiming direction wasn't directly at him.

(Danger, this feeling is so dangerous, why? From the angle of his aim, he can’t possibly shoot me, even if he spots my position via the glass reflection, so what? If I were Zhang Heng, if I were him, a shot aimed like this would be…) The moment Zheng Zha considered himself to be Zhang Heng, that sense of knowing Zhang Heng’s every thought returned—the technique of firing a shot from a different direction based solely on a glass reflection: Curving Arrow! Zhang Heng’s unique archery skill allowed him to fire two arrows simultaneously, letting them collide mid-flight to alter their final trajectory. Right now, that altered trajectory was locked precisely onto Zheng Zha’s position. The instant he moved even slightly further, this arrow would strike him directly.

At such close range, Zheng Zha didn't even have the confidence to block it with his dagger. Judging by the power and speed of the arrows he’d witnessed on previous occasions, at this proximity, evasion was virtually impossible. In the split second of dodging, this arrow could pierce his skull or heart. Zheng Zha stared intently at Zhang Heng in the glass reflection, vaguely seeing Zhang Heng’s hands tremble slightly. Though subtle, in that moment, it was perfectly clear to him. As the aim locked on, he had already entered the state of releasing his Genetic Lock. Seeing Zhang Heng’s hands tremble, he arrived at a conclusion.

This period of time unfolded in an instant. Zheng Zha suddenly surged toward the stairwell entrance, kicking off the ground. Simultaneously, the arrow in Zhang Heng’s hand shot forth. But what surprised everyone was that Zheng Zha didn't accelerate forward. Instead, the moment he reached the threshold, he violently threw the high-vibration particle cutting dagger to the ground. Then, gripping the dagger tightly between both feet, he managed to stop his momentum after several leaps. That single arrow zipped past, grazing his scalp—it was a near-kiss with death, leaving Zheng Zha drenched in a cold sweat.

This was the exact tactic he had used during the battle in the traffic flow. Seeing Zhang Heng’s tremor, he suddenly remembered: a trembling dagger made the best impromptu tool, but once the tremor ceased, its sharpness was inferior to an ordinary kitchen knife. In this scenario, it was perfect for an emergency brake. It seemed his gamble had paid off this time.

When he flicked the dagger up with the soles of his feet, Zhang Heng, seen through the glass reflection, had already vanished without a trace. But a monk can flee, yet the temple remains. At this point, Zheng Zha was only two floors from the top. In other words, even if Zhang Heng escaped, Zhang Jie certainly wouldn't! His resolve firm, Zheng Zha stood up and rocketed upward. Bursting through the stairwell entrance, he saw two figures standing on the top-floor steps: Zhang Heng and Xiao Honglü, who was casually eating an apple. Behind them was the final flight of stairs leading to the observation deck. Zhang Heng had drawn his Gong She Tian Lang to its maximum draw, two arrows nocked on the string with his fingers.

Xiao Honglü took a bite of his apple. “Zheng Zha, have we been hypnotized? Heh heh. We all really want to kill you, but somehow, memories of the past surface, and it feels incredibly uncomfortable. How about this: as long as you can defeat Zhang Heng, we’ll concede. What do you say?” Looking at Xiao Honglü’s mischievous, eleven or twelve-year-old face, Zheng Zha fiercely wanted to grab him and deliver a sound thrashing. What nonsense was that? If he couldn't defeat Zhang Heng, let alone knock them both out, he couldn't even reach Zhang Jie. Furthermore, judging by Zhang Heng’s stance of firing two arrows together, this shot was already unavoidable; nothing could stop it now.

Zheng Zha took a deep breath. “Zhang Heng, Xiao Honglü, bring it on. I don't have much time. I won't tarnish my promise to Zhan Lan to resolve this with Zhang Jie within ten minutes! Shoot that arrow quickly!” Zhang Heng’s hand trembled again, but his expression appeared even more tense than Zheng Zha’s or Xiao Honglü’s. Though his bow-holding hands were as solid as rock, upon close inspection, both his thighs were visibly shaking uncontrollably. He looked like someone awaiting execution. Sweat streamed down his face, as if releasing this arrow would mean his own death; the sweat was even blurring his vision.

The distance between them was about fifty meters—a straight corridor. At the end of the passage was a flight of upward stairs constructed of iron railings. Zhang Heng and Xiao Honglü stood right at the entrance to those stairs. Without passing them, Zheng Zha had zero chance of reaching Zhang Jie. Time had already passed by several minutes; Zhan Lan was likely being caught up to by now. Thinking this, Zheng Zha grit his teeth, kicked off, and rushed towards Zhang Heng and Xiao Honglü. Zhang Heng finally hesitated no longer, violently releasing the bowstring. Two arrows, intertwined, one slightly ahead of the other, shot toward Zheng Zha. But Zheng Zha had already predicted this possibility. He let out a loud roar, his leg muscles suddenly expanding, boosting his speed further. The rear arrow burst upon impact, followed immediately by the front arrow striking the same wound. Both arrows pierced Zheng Zha’s upper left chest, close to the heart. His lungs were certainly damaged, but fortunately, Zheng Zha’s reaction speed was incredibly fast, ultimately avoiding the most vital area of the heart.

Zheng Zha coughed up a large mouthful of blood, a sharp pain stabbing his chest with every breath, and it felt as if the air he inhaled kept leaking out—an excruciating sensation. However, the distance between him and Zhang Heng had closed to within ten meters. Now he was confident he could knock Zhang Heng unconscious before he could fire again. At this distance, utilizing Qinggong, he could be there in the blink of an eye. Even if Zhang Heng were faster, he couldn't outpace Qinggong.

“Hoo, you two should sleep well. Leave everything to me.”

“Zheng Zha continued to exhale raggedly as he walked toward the pair.

Unexpectedly, Zhang Heng suddenly flipped and jumped backward. The moment he leaped back, another arrow appeared in his hand. He bent his bow, drawing She Tian Lang into a full moon shape. There was only one arrow nocked on the string, but Zhang Heng’s demeanor was completely different now. It was an expression pouring all his hope into this single strike. His legs no longer trembled, and his hands remained rock-steady. Zhang Heng’s eyes had become utterly vacant. This single-arrow technique was a skill he had gained through attribute enhancement.

“Arrow of Wind!” Leaping to...