As Zheng Zha landed, the space behind him was only just finishing its collapse. Although he hadn't been caught in the epicenter, the information relayed by his premonition suggested that if that attack had landed squarely, no matter how physically durable he was, it would have meant certain death—unless he possessed a body like that masked monster's, one that was immune to all harm. Otherwise, he would have certainly been finished.

The Caucasian man, however, was violently thrown back over a hundred meters. Upon impact, his first instinct wasn't to stand up, but frantically to once again split off several duplicates of himself. Clearly, he understood that in that split second, Zheng Zha's power had erupted; faced with such overwhelming force, he had no recourse but duplication. It was only now that a genuine fear began to fill the Caucasian man's heart.

Zheng Zha pursued him for only a few dozen meters. Once the Caucasian man began to split into his duplicates, he immediately shifted from the "Ruin" state back to the "Explosion" state. After all, the "Ruin" state was his ultimate, last-resort move; once expended, he was left with virtually no combat capability. Before understanding the true extent of the man's protective gear or any other tricks he might possess, Zheng Zha was unwilling to use "Ruin" again, unless it was to end the fight in one go.

Otherwise, the price of using that state was simply too heavy.

"Let's call it a draw. We shouldn't fight anymore. A battle between the strong only serves to benefit those hypocritical weaklings. How about this: I'll let you kill two members of our team... no, three. One of them is someone who has unlocked the Gene Lock; his close-combat strength is incredibly weak. With your... no, with your strength, it will only take you mere seconds to finish him. Let's stop here!" the Caucasian man said hastily upon landing, though he dared not let down his guard.

His several shadows mirrored his actions exactly, even replicating his tone and demeanor perfectly, which clearly showed that he was already unnerved.

Zheng Zha offered no reply, instead walking toward him step by step. Each apparent small step carried his body over ten meters forward. This crushing pressure forced the Caucasian man to continuously retreat.

After retreating several dozen meters, the man finally roared out in a fit of frustrated anger: "Damn it, you refuse to accept a gift! Do you really think you're the only one with a trump card? I have one too! Do you dare try me? This move of mine can absolutely kill you! I was just hesitant to risk it, otherwise, those hypocritical weaklings would be the ones celebrating. Shouldn't the strong unite to bully the weak?"

"In my eyes..." Zheng Zha said coldly, walking while gripping the Tiger Soul blade, "...you are the weakling!"

Hearing this, the Caucasian man finally let out a frantic howl. This statement made it clear to him that reconciliation was impossible. Though he didn't know why Zheng Zha seemed to hate him so intensely, he understood that the man before him was genuinely far stronger, not because of equipment or skills, but because of that unique pressure only the truly powerful possess—a pressure that now inspired terror in him. Thus, feeling terror, he could only defend himself with madness.

"Aaaargh!" the Caucasian man screamed. He and his duplicates charged wildly toward Zheng Zha. When Zheng Zha raised the Tiger Soul blade to attack, the man resorted to his old trick, encircling Zheng Zha from all sides while simultaneously deploying that restraining skill again.

"Mirror..." Zheng Zha's motion was instantly frozen at the moment he raised his blade. The space around him, roughly ten cubic meters, was locked down. It was clear that the Caucasian man was also suffering; blood began to pour from his nose and mouth, yet he wildly raised his intangible Sword in the Stone, shouting,

"Sword of Pledge and Victory! EXCALIBUR!"

Silver-white radiance instantly filled the Caucasian man's hand, outlining the form of the unseen heavy sword he held. Then, a medieval European-style two-handed greatsword appeared in his grasp. The Caucasian man swung this greatsword down viciously toward the immobilized Zheng Zha, unleashing a beam of light, almost like a laser, hurtling toward him.

"Ruin!" Zheng Zha was not content to simply wait for death. Before the light beam could reach him, he desperately activated the "Ruin" state. With his current physical condition, he could sustain "Ruin" for about ten seconds. Having already used one second, he had nine seconds left—plenty of time to move and kill.

As "Ruin" activated, Zheng Zha felt as if everything around him had ground to a halt. With a surge of strength, he wrenched himself free from the spatial confinement. He stomped the ground, leaving a meter-deep indentation, and using this massive force, he leaped twenty meters into the air.

"Moonwalk!" Zheng Zha stepped on the air, altering his trajectory mid-flight. By this time, the light beam had struck the spot where he had just stood. The power of that beam was truly formidable; the uneven ground where he stood was instantly polished smooth like a mirror. If he had tried to take that hit head-on, Zheng Zha would have been ground into fine paste.

Utilizing the aerial mobility of the Moonwalk, Zheng Zha descended directly behind the Caucasian man. The man had only just managed to lift his head to look at the sky. Zheng Zha had already identified the real body when the man launched his attack, but just to be safe, he unleashed several rapid kicks— (Raging Tempest Kick)—to strike the Caucasian man from a distance.

The Raging Tempest Kick carried immense destructive power; the resulting wind blades easily sliced through the duplicates, and when they struck the Caucasian man's back, they were blocked by the ancient bell again. However, the bell's color grew noticeably dimmer. That single strike penetrated several more points into the bell's surface. At this moment, the Caucasian man seemed to be attempting to turn around, though only just over a second had passed.

"Fist Gun!" Zheng Zha surged forward and delivered a devastating punch. Under the "Ruin" state, the power of this blow was extraordinary; it actually dented the ancient bell, coming terrifyingly close to striking the Caucasian man’s chest.

Zheng Zha showed no hesitation, wildly hacking and slashing with the Tiger Soul blade. Every strike managed to drive the ancient bell deeper by several points. Finally, with one last heavy downward slash, he managed to cleave the bell exactly in half down its center. The momentum of this final blow also severed one of the Caucasian man's arms. Only then did the Caucasian man finally manage to turn his head; his eyes were filled with sheer dread, his expression suggesting absolute terror. But Zheng Zha showed no mercy, continuously flipping the Tiger Soul blade up and down, severing all four of the Caucasian man's limbs before he could attempt to duplicate again. He then pocketed the Sword of Pledge and Victory into his storage ring.

Six or seven seconds of the "Ruin" state had already elapsed when Zheng Zha violently snapped back to his normal state. Capillaries across his body immediately began to burst and spray blood. Before he could make another move, his body was already slick with gore. Zheng Zha urgently focused on sensing the Vampire energy and internal force within him, drawing energy from the charged Mithril Ring into his system. Only by doing this did he manage to stay upright and avoid collapsing.

"Damn it, the side effects are too severe; it feels like I'm about to die..." Zheng Zha felt both burning pain and itching across his body. His terrifying regenerative ability quickly took hold; the burst capillaries began to mend, and muscle tears started to repair. Even so, Zheng Zha's current condition meant he possessed barely thirty percent of his full combat power... without using "Explosion" or "Ruin."

As Zheng Zha returned to his baseline state, the Caucasian man's speed returned to normal. He began to scream madly. Without his limbs, he thrashed and rolled on the ground, spitting out countless vile curses. It seemed he realized his death was imminent, so he stopped begging for mercy and instead began to vent the torment and resentment festering in his heart.

Zheng Zha was anxious about Zero Point's situation. While he hadn't heard the "Main God" announce Zero Point's death, leaving Zero Point alone against one of the opponent's powerful attribute users, especially one equipped with B-grade protective gear, made him deeply uneasy. Thus, he hoisted the Caucasian man up and began running toward the sound of distant gunfire. As he ran, he searched the man's possessions, his fingers brushing against a small golden bell—only this bell was broken cleanly in half down the middle, looking as if it had been cut by a blade.

"Damn it, you won't get anything, no matter what you are! This protective item self-destructs the moment its defense is breached. Did you think you could still take it? My Sword of Pledge and Victory has established a covenant; no one but I can wield it. It's useless to you, hahahaha... You pig, you beat me but don't dare kill me. You plan to hand me over to the weaklings in your team to kill? Damn it, you're just a useless pig, a hypocritical weakling!" the Caucasian man cursed loudly.

Zheng Zha ignored him, continuing to run while dragging the man and demanding, "Where is your storage item? Don't tell me you don't have one; I absolutely won't believe that!" As he spoke, he yanked hard on the severed tendons where the Caucasian man's arm had been attached, clearly showing his extreme hatred for the man.

The Caucasian man roared, but then suddenly calmed down: "I have storage items, filled with good things, but why should I give them to you... And why do you hate me so much? Why? I don't know you. Even if I challenged you, or spoke dismissively before, can't you let me go for the sake of mutual benefit? Why! Tell me why you hate me so much!" He leaped...