Are you kidding me!
’Everyone knew it. The most monstrous thing about this "Qin Beast" wasn’t his resources, but his demonic combat talent and instinct for the killing arts!’
They all shared a tacit understanding and quickly laughed it off, glossing over the heavy topic.
Shi Dang, on the other hand, after getting over his initial, utter shock, had actually taken Qin Feng’s words to heart.
His gaze flickered, and he seemed to be genuinely pondering the question: ’If we were at the same level, what would my chances be in a one-on-one fight?’
His earnest expression was so intense that Xiong Yanfu, sitting next to him, could barely bring himself to watch.
For the rest of the evening, the group tacitly avoided any more talk of strength or combat. Instead, they happily ate, drank, and chatted about their experiences and adventures over the past twelve years.
The atmosphere grew lively and harmonious once more.
After a few rounds of drinks and several courses...
The conversation shifted to their plans for the future.
"Sigh, we’re not planning on heading out again for a while," the chubby Xiong Yanfu said, downing a large gulp of fruit wine and letting out a hiccup. "Isn’t the academy about to hold the ’Warband Competition’ between all the Warbands? And I think the mentors are putting on some ’Mentor Cup,’ too. I heard the rewards are pretty generous, so we’re thinking of checking it out and seeing if we can get a piece of the action."
He paused before adding, "But the entry requirements for these competitions are pretty high. Contestants need to be powerhouses with a life force index of at least one thousand. None of us qualify. What about you, Old Qin?"
Qin Feng thought for a moment before sharing his own plans.
"I’m not planning on joining those competitions for the time being, either."
He said calmly, "At my current level, I’d just end up at the bottom. So, I’m planning to head to the mission hall and take on a few relatively simple solo missions. I can hone the new killing arts I’ve learned while earning some Contribution Points."
"Once I have enough Contribution Points, I’ll prepare to break through to the next realm."
Qin Feng had always held a very clear view on competitions.
They were a shot at a big payout when he was short on Contribution Points, and also a platform to test his own strength and measure the gap between himself and the truly powerful.
If he currently lacked the strength and knew he would only lose, it was better not to waste his time.
He’d be better off using that time to diligently complete missions or enter seclusion to cultivate.
After eating and drinking their fill, the initial excitement of the reunion began to settle as time wore on.
The gathering, which had lasted for several hours, finally drew to a close.
The group exchanged a few more pleasantries at the entrance of the Taotie Residence, promised to meet again soon, and then said their farewells. They transformed into streaks of light, disappearing into the bustling night of the Food God District, each off to pursue their own path.
Qin Feng returned to his dorm room, which had lain dormant for twelve long years.
He pushed the door open. The room was empty, but a faint trace of his own scent still lingered in the air.
He didn’t begin cultivating right away. Instead, he sat quietly on the edge of his bed as scenes from the dinner table replayed in his mind.
The ways his friends had changed were all as he had expected.
Shi Potian had become colder and more reserved. Xiong Yanfu was still the same Intelligence Officer, always livening up the mood. Lei Meng and Tie Mu had also grown more composed and dependable.
But one person left Qin Feng with a faint, lingering, and indescribable sense of unease.
—Shi Dang.
Qin Feng replayed Shi Dang’s every expression and every word from dinner in his mind.
He was confident, even bordering on arrogant.
When he recounted his feat of breaking through mid-battle to slay the Believers of Khorne, his heartfelt pride and satisfaction were plain to see.
That was normal.
Any Martial Artist would react the same way after such a great accomplishment.
But what truly struck Qin Feng as odd was what happened afterward.
It was after he had revealed his life force index of 1730, when everyone was stunned beyond words and even Shi Potian was visibly moved.
After his own initial, utter shock, Shi Dang had actually taken his humble words—’At the same level, I might not be able to beat you’—as the gospel truth.
Qin Feng could clearly sense that Shi Dang’s Battle Intent hadn’t been extinguished by the seemingly insurmountable gap in their power.
On the contrary, it had merely been suppressed, like magma sealed beneath volcanic ash. Deeper down, it was burning even more fiercely, with a fanatical, searing heat.
He attributed the massive gap in their strength to Qin Feng having ’good luck’ or ’more resources.’
He believed that, at the same level, with his own twelve years of experience forged in blood and fire, he wouldn’t necessarily lose.
This way of thinking was dangerous.
It represented a form of cognitive self-deception, an obsessive need to selectively ignore objective facts to preserve one’s pride.
A Martial Artist could be confident, even proud, but they must never lose their clear-eyed perception of reality.
Once they lost their sense of reverence, destruction was not far behind.
Qin Feng’s brow furrowed slightly.
He thought of Shi Dang’s raging Battle Intent, of his insistence to ’have another match.’
He had a hunch that this old acquaintance, with his unresolved issues, would probably come looking for him again.