Heavy footsteps echoed as Qin Ming strode toward Oni En, his expression cold and unyielding. Seeing that his opponent was still struggling to pull out a consumable in a final attempt to fight back, Qin Ming gave him no such chance—he flicked his wrist, launching a blood blade that instantly severed Oni En's already weakened and fragile arm.
With his last resort now destroyed, Oni En lay on the ground, his body broken beyond repair. His ragged breathing filled the silence as he stared up at Qin Ming, confusion clouding his eyes.
He couldn't understand. How had this man, who was clearly losing just monts ago, suddenly turned the tables so violently?
Why did he possess such an overwhelming trump card, yet never use it until now?
There were too many questions racing through Oni En's mind. But Qin Ming didn't intend to give him the ti to figure them out.
Grabbing Oni En by the collar and lifting him effortlessly off the ground, Qin Ming's eyes glead with ferocity.
"Ga over. Ti to go ho and reunite with your brother."
Oni En's lips trembled slightly. Mustering the last dregs of his strength, he ignited the final remnants of his Orochi blood, his remaining arm bursting into purple flas as he threw one last desperate punch at Qin Ming's head.
The strike barely made Qin Ming's face tilt to the side—but that was all.
He wasn't injured at all.
Blood-red energy flared around Qin Ming's arm.
A second later, Oni En scread in agony—his entire body convulsing as his blood violently erupted from his pores, streaming toward Qin Ming's waiting palm.
Two seconds.
That was all it took.
The already dying Oni En had been completely drained, his body shriveling into a lifeless husk.
Qin Ming flung the corpse aside, fresh blood coursing through his veins, his fra swelling further as he absorbed the stolen essence.
With a savage glow in his eyes, Qin Ming threw his head back and roared, his muscles bulging as his body grew even larger—from a lean 1.7-ter youth to a towering 2-ter juggernaut.
His muscles rippled with raw power, his breath heavy, his eyes locking onto one final target.
Standing frozen in place, utterly petrified, was the last remaining Hunting Squad mber—Iron Ball.
Feeling the weight of Qin Ming's predatory gaze, her body visibly trembled.
As Qin Ming took a step forward, closing the distance, she frantically waved her hands, stumbling backward in panic.
"Wait! Hold on! Your grudge is with Oni En, not with the KOF Squad! There's no need for us to fight to the death! Our leader thinks highly of you! Why not join us instead? If you do, you'll definitely beco a high-ranking officer—"
Before she could even finish, Qin Ming roared, spreading his arms wide before swinging them forward with explosive force.
An instant later—a massive, crescent-shaped blood blade shot forth, slicing through the air toward Iron Ball.
She barely had ti to react. Raising her arms, she managed to block the attack—but before she could recover, Qin Ming had already closed the gap.
His hand clamped over her face.
Blood energy erupted.
Skill activated—Blood Flesh Absorption!
Iron Ball scread as her blood was forcefully drained, her attributes plumting with every passing second.
Qin Ming slamd her into the floor, pinning her down as he absorbed her vitality, ignoring her frantic resistance.
His arms, coated in a mixture of blood and white flas, rained down relentless punches.
Each strike sent blood spraying into the air, the absorbed essence reinforcing his own strength, enhancing his every attack.
Lifting Iron Ball into the air, he drove his fist into her chest, sending shockwaves rippling through her body.
Her eyes bulged wide, her back bending into a C-shape from the impact.
Before she could recover, Qin Ming lashed out with his free hand, catching the blood mist that had burst from her wounds.
The crimson fog solidified in his grasp, transforming into a blood spear, which he drove ruthlessly into her back.
Blade. Spear. Sword. Hamr.
The blood in Qin Ming's hands continuously shifted forms, each transformation brutally smashing into Iron Ball's body.
After twenty consecutive attacks, Qin Ming lunged forward, his claws digging directly into her torso.
He lifted her high into the air.
The next mont, a surge of blood energy exploded.
BOOM!
A violent shockwave rippled outward. The already battered Iron Ball, a mid-tier adventurer, let out an inhuman scream as her blood violently boiled and detonated—her entire body bursting apart from the inside like an overfilled balloon.
Her shattered remains scattered across the floor, and the fresh blood that had barely touched the ground imdiately surged toward Qin Ming, flowing directly into his body.
Feeling his body expand once again, sensing the trendous reservoir of stored blood within him, Qin Ming closed his eyes and let out a long, satisfied breath.
For the first ti, he had a profound understanding of just how powerful an S-rank skill truly was.
This kind of power... A-rank abilities couldn't even compare.
The difference might seem like just one rank, but the gap between them was unimaginably vast.
However, as overwhelming as this power was, it also ca with severe drawbacks—or rather, the uncontrollable side effects that ca with being too strong.
Blood Flesh Absorption, at first glance, seed almost invincible. It allowed him to drain the life force of everything around him, heal himself, and weaponize the absorbed blood for combat.
In fact, it could even store excess blood within his own body, allowing him to release it when needed.
The most visible effect of this storage? Qin Ming's body physically swelled—almost like a sponge absorbing water... or rather, a certain other organ filling with blood... Uh.
At first, this all seed incredibly powerful, but in reality, it ca with severe limitations—limitations that were impossible to ignore.
The biggest issue?
It was completely indiscriminate.
Once activated, the skill would drain blood from all living beings nearby—enemy or ally, friend or foe—it didn't matter.
If his enemies were too strong, but his allies were too weak, then his own teammates would die before the enemy even went down.
The exhausted, barely conscious female bodyguards collapsed on the ground around him were the most obvious proof of this flaw.
And the second major issue?
The insane energy consumption.
Qin Ming, who had 30 points of ntal energy, had burned through every last point within just 15 seconds before the skill forcefully deactivated due to exhaustion.
In other words, at full power, Qin Ming's "Berserk Mode" only lasted 15 seconds.
Of course, that was only when using wide-range absorption. If he focused solely on draining a single target, the energy drain wouldn't be as extre—but in turn, the amount of absorbed blood would also be much lower.
Power and limitations coexisted.
Extre energy drain, extre damage output.
This was the true nature of Qin Ming's new S-rank ability.
When he first fused the skills, Nightmare Space had actually given him a choice, just like when he had crafted his gold-tier weapons.
There were only two options.
1. Abandon blood absorption and fully enhance his ability to steal enemy attributes.
2. Abandon attribute absorption and focus entirely on maximizing blood absorption.
Qin Ming didn't know what would've happened if he had chosen the first option—and frankly, he didn't have the luxury to find out.
Because at the ti, he was already seconds away from being lted into nothing by "Sunlight Purge."
If he had chosen the first option, even if it let him steal enemy attributes, what good would that have done?
What use was stealing stats when he couldn't even regenerate his wounds?
Even if he permanently absorbed enemy attributes, he'd still be dead!
So at that mont, he hadn't even had a real choice—he could only gamble on blood absorption.
Yes, gamble.
Forcibly fusing two A-rank skills was a high-stakes bet.
S-rank abilities weren't sothing he could just recklessly obtain. If, after fusing them, he discovered that his own stats weren't high enough to et the skill's requirents, then he would've been completely screwed.
That was why, until now, Qin Ming had never dared to attempt such a fusion.
Sure, taking risks could turn a bicycle into a motorcycle—but it could also turn a bicycle into a rusty tricycle... or even no bike at all.
If he hadn't been pushed to his absolute limit, if he hadn't been desperate to avoid running away like a coward, he never would've risked everything like this.
But in the end...
He won the gamble.
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