Calculation

As for Jue Xin alone, facing Qin Ming, it meant death; no matter how much armor he wore, or how Advanced the armor was, nothing could stop Qin Ming from taking his revenge.

Qin Ming had already appeared behind the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist, his iron fist aimed directly at his back for an attack.

"Boss, he is behind you." The Sturdy Man had been keeping a close watch on the surroundings; the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist had turned his back to Qin Ming, so he was unaware of Qin Ming's movements.

But the Sturdy Man was different; he had been vigilant the entire time and immediately shouted aloud to warn the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist.

"What?" Hearing the sound, the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist reacted instantly.

So his intuition had not been wrong; the assassin really had been hiding nearby the whole time.

Just how deep was the grudge this assassin held against them? He clearly possessed unparalleled potential, a being destined to advance to Martial Emperor, yet he still risked so much danger to come and attack them.

If he himself were destined to advance to Martial Emperor, he would never come to the Secret Realm to take risks, no matter what; even the slightest risk of death would keep him away.

The Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist already felt death descending upon him; no longer caring about Face, he threw himself onto the ground, narrowly dodging Qin Ming's attack.

"Such sharp reactions—were you prepared for this?" Qin Ming's punch missed, and he immediately knew that the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist was not as nonchalant as he appeared on the surface. He had been ready to dodge at any moment, which was why he could react in an instant and execute the most correct evasion.

Although Qin Ming possessed Momentum, Momentum was not omnipotent; it could only influence a Martial King, not completely restrain one.

Since the punch had missed and the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist was already under his feet, Qin Ming immediately kicked out.

"Bang!" The Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial King was like a ball, kicked flying by Qin Ming and landing in front of the Iron Luo Sect Martial Kings. Just as Qin Ming wanted to attack again, the Iron Luo Sect Martial Artists had already helped the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist up, leaving no further opportunity to attack.

Helpless, Qin Ming could only retreat and hide to the side.

Seeing Qin Ming leave, several Iron Luo Sect Martial Kings hurriedly chased after him.

Seeing them pursue, Qin Ming sneered and deliberately slowed his pace, waiting for them to catch up.

With Qin Ming's speed, he could vanish from their sight in an instant. He wanted to split this group of people up; as long as they were separated, it would be Qin Ming's opportunity. By then, it wouldn't be the Iron Luo Sect Martial Kings surrounding and killing him, but him killing them one by one.

"Stop chasing! Cough, cough…" The Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist shouted loudly, though his voice lacked vigor; Qin Ming's kick had clearly left the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist seriously injured.

Hearing the Black-clothed Short-sleeved Martial Artist's shout, the several pursuing Martial Kings halted their steps and stopped.

Seeing that they were not chasing, Qin Ming knew he had no chance, so he stopped holding back his speed, moved with lightning quickness, and vanished before their eyes.

Seeing Qin Ming accelerate, how could they not realize that the assassin had deliberately hidden his strength just to wait for them to separate from the main force?

Thinking of this, sweat seeped out on the foreheads of the few Martial Kings who had chased him out, and they couldn't help but feel fear in their hearts.

This assassin was too eerie; he never forgot to scheme against them at any moment.

Even though they frequently participated in battles and had rich combat experience, they still naturally fell for the assassin's trap. The assassin remained calm at all times, sparing no cost to achieve his goal.

They felt as if they were facing a ten-thousand-year-old monster, while they were like newborn infants, being played in the palm of his hand.