Gui Yao gazed at Xiao Feng's portrait with a hint of puzzlement. "This is an Asian man, right? Is he really that formidable?"
The count's expression grew fervent. "Of course he is. Our Wicked Dragon Sect has been brought low all because of this kid. Without him, we might have already dominated half of Europe…"
Gui Yao stared at the portrait in stunned silence, unable to speak.
"I must be sure if it's truly him. I have to see with my own eyes…" The count turned, preparing to leave.
"Don't go—I'll handle this." Suddenly, the door burst open. Xiao Feng strode in, cradling the formidable Black Angel rifle, with a worried Qin Tian close behind.
Behind the count's mask, his eyes blazed with murderous intent—tinged faintly with fear.
Seeing the audacious Xiao Feng enter, clutching an even more intimidating firearm, Gui Yao spat a brutal curse. "Who the hell are you? Who let you in? Get out of here—now!"
The count tugged Gui Yao back, pointing at the portrait on the screen. "Look for yourself."
Gui Yao glanced from the image to the living Xiao Feng and blinked in disbelief. "Why's his hair shorter now?"
Ignoring Gui Yao's protests, Xiao Feng planted his rifle firmly before the count and sneered coldly, "Seems your Wicked Dragon Sect's vitality is stronger than I thought. After all this turmoil, you still have remnants left. And by sheer luck, I happen to cross paths with you again."
The count's voice was icy. "What do you want?"
"I ask you this: Do you want to live, or do you want to die?"
Gui Yao suddenly seized Xiao Feng's collar. "You bastard! I don't care if you're Xiao Feng or some damn lunatic. On my turf, if you're a dragon, you better coil; if you're a tiger, you better crawl." The two burly men and the three triplet sisters immediately raised their weapons, glaring fiercely at Xiao Feng.
Xiao Feng met Gui Yao's glare, towering over the shorter man—about 175 centimeters tall—looking down coldly. "Get lost."
Gui Yao, drunk on arrogance, snapped, "What did you say? You're looking for death?"
Xiao Feng wasted no more words. With a powerful kick to Gui Yao's abdomen, he sent the man crashing against the wall before he crumpled to the floor. Without that wall, Gui Yao's frail frame might have flown twenty meters before stopping.
"Trash," Xiao Feng muttered, then turned to the count. "Speak up…"
Gui Yao's men would never stand idly by. The two muscular thugs charged wielding hefty cleavers, roaring as they swung at Xiao Feng.
But Xiao Feng's glare unleashed his metal manipulation power; the cleavers halted mid-air, immovable.
At the doorway, Qin Tian watched in astonishment as Xiao Feng kicked the two men down, then faced the triplet sisters who lunged with daggers in both hands.
"Xiao Feng, watch out!" Qin Tian shouted.
Xiao Feng spun just as four daggers slid toward him. Knowing his healing powers were depleted, he deftly dodged, narrowly evading the blades.
With a flick of his right hand, a surge of water erupted, enveloping the triplets. Suddenly, the room's temperature plummeted, freezing the sisters solid.
For mere bandits, facing a level-eight psychic like Xiao Feng was no contest.
After subduing the five attackers, Xiao Feng confronted the count. "I'm hot-tempered and have little patience. If you want to live, tell me where the Black Dragon is…"
Gui Yao staggered to his feet, cursing fiercely, "Damn it! How dare you strike me!"
Xiao Feng blinked in surprise. Despite the powerful blow, Gui Yao was still standing, cursing relentlessly.
Turning back, Xiao Feng delivered a heavier kick to Gui Yao's chest, sending him flying into the wall with a loud bang. The impact bounced him back before he landed before Xiao Feng again. With all his might, Xiao Feng struck a brutal punch to Gui Yao's nose—a crisp crack resounded, audible even to Qin Tian at the doorway.
Gui Yao collapsed, sprawled on the floor.
Xiao Feng casually shook his hand, groaning, "Damn, that really hurt…"
The count had long since lost any composure. Though others might have missed the nuances, his keen eyes had witnessed Xiao Feng's display of multiple psychic powers—a trifecta of abilities residing in one man. It left him utterly astounded.
"Speak. Now."
The count hesitated, ready to reveal the Black Dragon's whereabouts. But Gui Yao—cursing fiercely—rose once more from the ground.
Xiao Feng's astonishment deepened. "Seriously? You're still standing?"
Staggering to his feet, Gui Yao snarled, "You know what? I'm like a cockroach—hard to kill!"
Without warning, Xiao Feng seized Gui Yao's right wrist and executed a devastating over-the-shoulder throw. The wooden floor splintered beneath the impact as Gui Yao crashed through, swallowed by the shattered planks.
Xiao Feng didn't relent—he hauled Gui Yao from the pit and, like tossing a sack, hurled him into a nearby wall. The crash shattered the wall; Gui Yao tumbled away, dazed.
Waving off the dust, Xiao Feng muttered, "Damn… a true ghost. No matter how hard I hit, he just won't die."
He stepped through the broken wall, watching Gui Yao laboriously rise from the rubble. "Damn bastard, when will you finally quit?"
Coughing, Gui Yao sneered, "Do you think holding this boss spot is easy? I'm born to be unkillable. Heh… come on, bring it on! This feeling is intoxicating!"
Xiao Feng frowned, beckoning to the Black Angel. The rifle leapt into his hand. Raising it, he pressed the muzzle to Gui Yao's forehead.
"I want to see if you die after this shot."
The Black Angel's chamber automatically loaded a round. Resolutely, Xiao Feng placed his finger on the trigger.