Chapter Seventy-Seven: Is It About to Happen?

"What a masterful footwork," Qin Feng thought as he watched his opponent dash with remarkable speed and agility. The man's steps seemed fluid, almost ethereal, making it nearly impossible to predict his next move or take aim. It was as if he were drifting above the ground, impossible to target or confront directly.

The opponent weaved swiftly through the terrain—a truly ingenious technique. Instantly, Qin Feng recalled what Su Yun had once told him about the art of invisible evasion: using the cover of the forest to conceal oneself, vanishing from all sight. By using the trees to block the enemy’s line of vision, one became elusive, almost untouchable, forced to watch helplessly as danger closed in.

"Stay calm. I must stay calm. Absolute calm is essential," Qin Feng reminded himself sternly. He understood that only clarity of mind would allow him to deal with his adversary and survive, to accomplish his mission and return his comrades home safely.

"If Su Yun were here, how would she handle this?" he wondered, pondering what she would do in this predicament.

Flattened against the earth, Qin Feng realized he needed a plan, and quickly. He remembered Su Yun's advice: in such a scenario, the best tactic was to change sniper positions. Yet if he made a move, his location might be exposed.

The menace in the air was palpable, thick with murderous intent. Qin Feng kept his own killing intent firmly leashed; his enemy was clearly a master, sensitive enough to sense the faintest threat. The smallest misstep could lead to his own demise.

"Retreat is impossible, advance is equally perilous. I have no choice but to remain here and eliminate the enemy," he resolved. Behind him lay traps—cunningly placed mines that would spell instant death if triggered. Ahead, there could be more, for the enemy was wily and formidable, likely to have prepared ambushes as well. All things considered, his only option was to remain hidden and await his chance to strike.

His entire being was taut with tension. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripping steadily as he lay pressed to the ground. A surge of nervousness gripped him, but he clung to reason—only composure could counter the ever-present danger.

At the same time, he recalled Su Yun's teachings: relax, focus, and sense the enemy's distance and position with every fiber of his being. He listened intently for the slightest sound, seeking any sign of a footfall, ready to respond the instant his foe revealed himself.

Employing the breathing technique old Qin had imparted to him, he gradually steadied his breath, clearing his mind of all distractions. Only one thought remained—to take down his adversary.

He was acutely aware that both he and his opponent had but a single chance.

"Come then—let's see who survives," Qin Feng thought, his gaze unwavering as he surveyed the jungle ahead. He knew well the cruelty of the battlefield—here, it was life or death, with no room for mercy or righteousness. The survivor would claim the right to decide what came next.

"I will destroy the enemy," his heart swore. No matter what, he would not be defeated—he would survive and return to Su Yun.

Adjusting his posture, Qin Feng prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation. His enemy was formidable, and he would need every ounce of his strength and cunning to prevail.

Soon, a scarcely audible sound reached his ear—the faint crunch of leaves beneath a careful step, so light that only the most attentive ear could detect it. Yet Qin Feng knew the enemy could close the distance in an instant; for a marksman of such caliber, a single second was enough to take a life.

"So, it’s coming to this? Let it come. We’ll see who falls," he steeled himself. Both sides would have but one opportunity—whoever seized it first would walk away alive.

He could feel his fighting spirit rising, dangerous and fierce. He had to become even stronger, for only then could he overcome his foe.

A gentle breeze swept through the trees, sending leaves drifting to the ground, the forest alive with the scent of verdant growth—a deceptive peace masking the deadly tension beneath.

Suddenly, a mountain eagle shrieked, launching into the sky with astonishing speed, disappearing in a matter of heartbeats.

As the wind continued to stir, the forest seemed to pulse with a chilling aura—a foreboding that something momentous was about to occur.

Before long, the footsteps grew closer. Qin Feng sensed his enemy drawing near, uncertain whether he had been discovered. He remained utterly still, shrinking into himself to minimize his profile, straining every sense. The enemy seemed to be searching, probing the undergrowth, evidently unsure of Qin Feng’s precise location.

A flicker of relief passed through Qin Feng. He imagined himself becoming one with the forest, blending seamlessly into the shadows, poised for a single, lethal strike.

The faint rustling of leaves crept ever nearer. The enemy was now less than ten meters away—a distance at which a pistol shot could come at any moment. Danger pressed in from all sides; Qin Feng could feel the imminent threat.

Instinct surged within him. At such close range, there was no time to aim. Eyes flashing with resolve, he made his move—striking first, firing in a lightning-fast attack at the most likely spot his adversary might appear.

A single bullet sliced through the air, vanishing into the thicket ahead without a trace.