Double Kill!

"Second brother, is it done?"

Sun Zhongheng wore an extremely confident smile.

"When has your second brother ever missed? Let's go, we can head in now. That kid is no different from a corpse at this point."

The two pushed open the room door and strode inside with swagger.

But the moment Sun Zhongheng reached the bed, the smugness on his face froze instantly. What lay on the bed was no person at all, but a wooden stool wrapped tightly in rags!

His pupils contracted sharply, and he realized what had happened in an instant. His expression shifted violently.

"Third brother! Draw your weapon, that kid set a trap for us!"

The roar exploded in the cramped wooden hut, but the only response was deathly silence.

Sun Zhongheng's heart sank. He spun around to look behind him, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. His third brother was already slumped on the floor, his hands clutching his throat as his body twitched uncontrollably.

The weapon he had been holding was gone, and a gleaming dagger was buried to the hilt in his neck. Bright red blood gushed from between his fingers, and it was clear he was beyond saving.

Sun Zhongheng's eyes were bloodshot, and he instinctively lunged forward to save his brother.

But just as he met his third brother's look of sheer terror, a lethal warning flared along his spine. Relying almost entirely on a hunter's instinct, he threw himself to the side in a flash.

"Crack!"

Almost at the same instant, a thick-backed, wide-bladed Ghost-Head Blade slammed into the spot where he had been standing.

Wood chips and stone fragments flew everywhere, and a hideous gash was carved deep into the floor.

Sun Zhongheng had barely regained his footing when he saw this terrifying sight, and a layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.

He thought to himself in relief, Lucky I dodged fast. If that blade had landed on me, I would have capsized in the gutter tonight.

Before the thought could fade, the silver blade flashed again, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound as it slashed toward his face.

He didn't dodge this time. With a roar, he swung his hand-axe to meet the strike head-on.

"Clang!"

The sound of metal clashing exploded in the dark room, and sparks flew from the point of impact between the axe and the blade.

Jiang Feng was jolted two steps backward, while Sun Zhongheng stumbled back several paces, only steadying himself when his back slammed hard against the wall.

His hand holding the axe trembled uncontrollably, and the web of his thumb went numb; he could barely keep his grip on the handle.

He stared in horror at the lean figure in the shadows, his voice trembling:

"No... wasn't it agreed that you were just a piece of trash who hadn't even reached the second level of the Blood-Moving Realm? This... this strength, it's not much different from my eldest brother's!"

After all, they were born of the wilderness, practiced crude techniques, and had no master to guide them; naturally, they couldn't cultivate anything profound.

Although Jiang Feng's realm wasn't high, his mastered Iron Stake Technique was no joke. Even if the opponent were at the sixth level of the Blood-Moving Realm, let alone the fifth, they would still be no match for him.

The sharp blade cut through the darkness once more, descending with terrifying force.

Sun Zhongheng's pupils shrank, and he hurriedly raised his axe to block, but this time, luck was no longer on his side.

Where the blade passed, his arm was severed at the root, and scarlet blood mist erupted from the stump like a fountain.

"Ah!"

A shrill, piercing scream tore through the night sky. Not only did the people in the neighboring hut hear it clearly, but Sun Bowei and Fan Qingyang, standing by the forest edge in the distance, also changed expressions.

Fan Qingyang clutched his stomach and laughed until tears streamed down his face. "Hahaha, this Jiang Feng really is a coward. Is he already screaming in fear?"

He could practically see Jiang Feng's pathetic state, and he felt immensely satisfied.

Sun Bowei did not laugh.

His brows were tightly locked, his expression darkening as an inexplicable sense of unease rose in his heart.

"Something isn't right... this wasn't in our plan. And this voice, why does it sound so familiar?"

He clenched his fists and hissed:

"Let's go. Follow me and see what happened over there."

Fan Qingyang looked reluctant, still muttering:

"What could have happened? Two men at the fifth level of the Blood-Moving Realm—don't tell me they can't handle one piece of trash?"

"Enough talk! Follow me!"

Sun Bowei glared, and a fierce, Sha Qi suddenly erupted from him.

Hit by this pressure, Fan Qingyang swallowed his words instantly. He didn't dare make another sound, following obediently behind Sun Bowei toward the small wooden hut.

Inside the hut, the sharp blade flashed, and Sun Zhongheng's limbs were systematically removed.

He had been carved into a human trunk while still alive, lying on the cold floor and twitching in agony.

The thick, pungent smell of blood made Jiang Feng's breathing hitch involuntarily, but his gaze remained steady. He gripped the Ghost-Head Blade firmly and demanded sharply:

"Speak, who are you? Who sent you to attack me? Are there any accomplices outside?"

The blade pressed against Sun Zhongheng's neck, and with every breath, he could feel the coldness of the edge.

Sun Zhongheng had long since lost his nerve; he dared not hide anything, his voice trembling uncontrollably:

"We... we are just hunters from Black Water Town. A fat man named Fan Qingyang paid us to come... he told us to finish you off. We were just taking money to do a job, we have no grudge against you... I... I know I was wrong, please spare my life..."

Jiang Feng's eyes remained cold. The blade pressed down slightly, and a line of blood instantly appeared on Sun Zhongheng's neck.

"You haven't answered my question yet. Are there any accomplices outside?"

Facing those eyes, which were so cold they felt frozen, Sun Zhongheng felt his scalp go numb.

He clearly sensed that this young man was not trying to scare him; he was truly capable of swinging the blade down.

How could someone with such a young face possess such a decisive and ruthless nature?

He completely broke down, screaming in a hoarse voice:

"Kid, I'm warning you! If you dare kill me, my eldest brother will never let you go! My eldest brother is at the eighth level of the Blood-Moving Realm, just one step away from the ninth. You can't possibly be his match!"

Eighth level of the Blood-Moving Realm? Jiang Feng's brows furrowed tightly.

"Fan Qingyang really thinks highly of me. To deal with me, he actually hired someone at the eighth level of the Blood-Moving Realm."

Seeing his expression shift, a glimmer of hope for survival surged in Sun Zhongheng's eyes, as if he had grabbed a life-saving straw:

"Kid, as long as you let me go, we can pretend today never happened. We can even..."

The blade flashed, and the voice stopped abruptly.

A large head rolled onto the ground, wobbling in the pool of blood like a deflated ball before coming to a rest.

"Are you kidding me? You already tried to kill me, and you want me to pretend it never happened?"

Jiang Feng stood in the shadows, his voice cold and calm, though the hand holding the blade trembled slightly.

Yet, what surged in the depths of his eyes was less fear and more an excitement rising from the very bottom of his heart.

"You are going to die, and that eldest brother of yours... he will die too!"