Qin Feng didn’t feel there was anything particularly special about it.
’Perhaps it’s because my resource pack level isn’t high enough?’
’What would the [A-Rank Custom Resource Pack], which requires Ten Thousand Points to redeem, even be like?’
Qin Feng shook his head, no longer dwelling on it.
He began to silently summarize the progress he’d made in his killing techniques over the past ten years.
The ten Second-level Killing Techniques he had initially redeemed from the Warband had been honed through hundreds of life-and-death battles. He had long since cultivated all of them to the realm of Control.
And through countless battles and epiphanies, he had successfully cultivated the Third-level Spear Technique—the *Heaven and Earth Spear*—to the realm of Perfection. This was the same technique he had poured immense effort into just to grasp the basics.
He had even comprehended its signature ultimate move—[Heaven and Earth]!
However, precisely because he had poured so much of his energy into the profound *Heaven and Earth Spear*, he hadn’t had much time over the past decade to perfect his own self-created killing techniques.
’With my current strength, it’s about time I challenged a Hell-level mission.’
Qin Feng made his decision.
The Contribution Points and prestige awarded for Hell-level missions were several times greater than those for Warrior Level missions.
With his life force index now as high as 5560 and his combat skills far beyond what they once were, he could no longer feel the kind of fatal danger from Warrior Level missions that forced him to improve.
...
After repairing his power armor and returning to his exclusive dorm, which had long since become a second home, Qin Feng didn’t immediately go to the mission board to filter for the deadly and tempting Hell-level missions.
He simply sat down quietly, cross-legged.
A moment later, he dialed the number he had persistently called, day in and day out, for over twenty years.
A screen of light flickered on, revealing a kind, familiar face, though it was now covered in wrinkles and weathered by hardship.
It was his father, Qin Dahai.
For over twenty years, Qin Feng had never missed a call home.
His father, Qin Dahai, had long since recovered his physical health after using the top-tier, limb-regenerating Potion Qin Feng had sent home.
But the ravages of time were something no Potion could reverse.
Only a breakthrough to a higher level of life could shatter the shackles of one’s lifespan.
In his youth, he had sustained too many deep-seated injuries on the battlefield. Later, he missed the optimal window for treatment because he was focused on curing Qin Feng’s own stubborn affliction.
As a result, Qin Dahai’s old injuries were extremely severe.
The technique he cultivated was also the most common sort: a Middle-grade Acupoint Opening Technique. It opened fewer Acupoints, and their quality was poor.
On top of that, he had long been unable to make any breakthroughs in his Mental Power cultivation.
All of this caused his Martial Dao path to be hopelessly stuck at the Fifth-level Martial Artist stage, unable to advance another step.
His life force index was only around a hundred points. At Cannan Star Martial Arts University, that would place him in the lowest tier among all Fifth-level Martial Artists.
Seventy-nine years had passed since Qin Feng’s birth.
His father, a full forty years his senior, was now almost one hundred and twenty.
For a Fifth-level Martial Artist with a life force index of only one hundred, this age meant he was visibly entering his final years.
In the video, his father’s hair was already completely white.
The wrinkles on his face were as deep and dense as if carved by a knife.
Qin Feng could even see a lingering, senile weariness in his father’s somewhat cloudy eyes.
On the other side of the screen, Qin Dahai looked at his son, who now appeared heroic and extraordinary, his presence as steady as a mountain. A smile, both gratified and tinged with sorrow, graced his face.
"Sigh... I’m getting old."
"I guess I’ll never get my damn Mental Power up to standard in this lifetime."
"Ah Feng, I don’t know how much longer I have left."
"But my life has been worth it! It really has!"
"To have raised a world-renowned, peerless genius like you... I can die with no regrets!"
His voice was somewhat hoarse, carrying the characteristic frailty of old age.
"When I’m gone someday, remember to stay on good terms with your uncle’s family, and your two cousins."
"They’re at a Top 100 Star Martial Arts University. They can’t compare to you, of course, but they’re still rare talents. They might be able to help you in the future."
"..."
His father rambled on, and Qin Feng just listened quietly.
Half an hour later, the screen of light slowly dimmed.
"Stay safe, Ah Feng."
These were his father, Qin Dahai’s, last words to him before ending the call.
Qin Feng sat quietly, cross-legged in the center of his dorm, unmoving for a long time.
The image of his father’s face, etched with wrinkles and senility, lingered in his mind. So did the complex emotions in his cloudy eyes—a mixture of pride, tinged with the loneliness and reluctance of a man whose life was nearing its end.
He knew his father was truly old.
"Hammer."
Qin Feng said, "Open the mission board. Filter missions. Set mission level to—[Hell Level]!"
"Yes, Master."
Hammer was as efficient as ever.
The next second, the vast list of Warrior Level missions vanished from before Qin Feng’s eyes.