Chapter 233

On the large screen, the number one spot was instantly replaced with Qin Yun's name.

"First place, China Changkong Club, Qin Yun, 0 meters from the center point."

Immediately following was the name of the captain from the British Royal Club, Hugo Dupont.

"Second place, British Royal Club, Hugo Dupont, 1.3 meters from the center point."

At two thousand meters, that gap would have been fatal, but with only double the distance, Hugo still ranked second.

At this moment, he stared at the despair-inducing number on the screen, his eyes filled with Grave.

Even in training, during precision parachute jumps from four thousand meters, he landed on the bullseye fewer than once in ten attempts—barely a tenth, and what difference did that make from zero?

"Luck or skill?"

Hugo preferred to believe it was skill, not luck.

After Qin Yun's fifth group completed their first jump, everyone received their scores and could see their rankings on the large screen.

Although five jumps were scheduled, all were professionals, and nearly everyone could already tell whether they would advance to the finals.

Only the top twenty still had a realistic chance; those outside the top twenty had as slim a hope of advancing as landing on the bullseye in all four remaining jumps.

But was that even possible?

For the second time, Qin Yun landed precisely on the bullseye, and the crowd erupted again.

The third time, still the bullseye; some began to grow numb.

The fourth time, still the bullseye; even the host had grown accustomed, smiling as he remarked that at this altitude, it might as well be a one-meter drop for Qin Yun.

The fifth time, Raoul and Charut were utterly hopeless.

By the third and fourth jumps, both had abandoned concern for their scores and missed the target entirely—yet they hadn't even glimpsed Qin Yun. Completing Taral's task was more absurd than stepping on the bullseye themselves.

"He's not human!"

Raoul said to Charut, watching Qin Yun standing on the bullseye for the fourth time.

Charut nodded in agreement, already harboring a desire to keep his distance—this man was terrifying. This was four thousand meters, not meters—how could any human land so effortlessly on the exact same spot every time?

"Hahaha, I feel like Qin Ye is just playing PUBG."

"Insane—I'm not even this accurate in Peacekeeper Elite."

"Too badass. No wonder Qin Ye dared to claim he'd challenge a precision jump from ten thousand meters into the Black Throat Pit—he clearly had absolute confidence in securing a top-three finish."

"Impressive. No words."

By the fourth jump, Qin Yun wasn't the only one to have hit the bullseye—each of the top five had scored one bullseye. But compared to Qin Yun's four consecutive bullseyes, theirs looked insignificant.

Zeng Luo, Nie Jun, Jiang Shuangxing, Shu Han, Fang Yichen—all gazed at him as if he were a deity.

Previously, they'd thought everyone was skydiving—how much could one person really outdo another?

Now, they realized the gap between people could be this vast.

After four jumps, the top ten had essentially secured their advancement; unless someone collapsed, no one behind them could possibly overtake them.

As the helicopter rose again, the host glanced at the guests: "Ladies and gentlemen, shall we place a bet on whether Qin will land on the bullseye?"

The guests ignored him entirely, leaving him speechless.

"Come on, we're live—give me some face."

One guest shot him a disdainful look: "Sure, bet away—but bet that he won't land on the bullseye. We'll bet he will. Each of us puts in ten thousand dollars. If you win, you take it all. If we win, we split your ten thousand."

The host declared solemnly: "Gambling is unhealthy. Let's refocus on the helicopter."

"Pfft!" Several middle fingers flipped up without hesitation.

Inside the helicopter, Raoul and Charut exchanged a glance, both recalling Taral's words before boarding.

"You two have no chance of advancing. This is your final opportunity. This pocket pistol contains a single thin nail—only one shot. You have one chance."

In the end, the gun ended up in Charut's hands.

What was called a gun was in fact a metal finger ring, worn like jewelry—its appearance gave no hint it was a weapon.

Charut nodded to Raoul, then waited silently.

Yet neither knew that, above them, the entire Pharaoh Club had boarded a helicopter bound for Belgium.

They had been abandoned!

Qin Yun's gaze swept over Charut. After four consecutive jumps, he had sensed something odd about the two. With their elite skill, aside from the first jump, all three subsequent jumps had missed—absurdly so.

On the fourth jump, he paid special attention and noticed that whether it was Charut or the earlier Raoul, both opened their chutes at nearly the same time as him—and their target didn't seem to be the bullseye, but him.

"Whoosh—!"

The cabin door opened again; Korte jumped out first, followed shortly by Edru.

Raoul turned back to glance at Qin Yun, then leapt out immediately. Qin Yun nodded to the host, Daphne, and leapt backward with an effortlessly graceful posture into the sky.

He jumped face-up, his eyes locked on Charut at the cabin entrance.

He wanted to see what these Pharaoh Club bastards intended to do. His advancement was already certain—even if he skipped this jump, securing a top-ten finish was effortless.

As soon as Qin Yun jumped, Charut didn't wait two seconds—he leapt out and immediately adjusted his body, hurtling toward Qin Yun.

Both were in freefall, the terrifying wind pressure chilling. Soon, their speed reached its limit—nearly two hundred kilometers per hour—so intense that even through the screen, viewers could feel the velocity.

Quickly, the altitude shrank rapidly.

2000… 1000… 800… 700…

As the ground neared, Charut's heart tightened.

600 meters… whoosh—a bright orange parachute appeared in his vision. His face lit up; his left thumb subtly pressed down, and a thin needle shot out, instantly crossing the forty to fifty meters between them.

After opening his chute, Qin Yun had ignored Charut entirely, his focus fixed on the bullseye below—when suddenly, an odd sensation surged from above.

His expression changed instantly; almost instinctively, he pulled both hands beneath his armpits, and the main parachute's attachment points instantly unlocked—the entire main canopy tore free from his back and soared upward.

The next instant, he grabbed the chest-mounted pull handle and yanked hard—another, smaller parachute snapped open.

"What the hell?"

What happened? Why did Master Qin throw away his main parachute?

Holy shit, that was intense.

Extreme maneuver, extreme maneuver.

Holyshit, what kind of move is that?

At this moment, everyone's attention was fixed on Qin Yun, utterly unable to understand why he had suddenly discarded his main parachute and switched to the backup one.

At this altitude, switching to the backup parachute was an unprecedented crisis.

And in truth, even if he moved fast, switching from the main to the backup parachute still required time.

In that brief moment, his altitude had dropped to only three hundred meters. Had he not deployed the main parachute earlier, which had drastically slowed his speed, he would have been dead for sure.

Even so, this distance was the limit of limits—extremely dire.

Qin Yun's eyes burned with fury, and a killing intent stirred deep within him.

At this moment, he would never believe this was an accident—it was undeniably a premeditated murder, and the murderer was unquestionably Sharu.

Sharu, whose parachute had already opened in midair, could not help but change expression upon seeing Qin Yun switch so swiftly to the backup one—this adaptability was incredible.

Yet, seeing how close the other was to the ground and his descent speed, hope flickered back in him.

He no longer cared about the target point; his gaze locked tightly on the parachute.

As the backup parachute deployed, Qin Yun swiftly adjusted his body and pulled the lines, hurtling toward the target point while gradually slowing his speed.

Simultaneously, he spread his body wide, resembling a toad, suddenly flattening himself against the air.

Even so, his descent speed remained too fast. Qin Yun quickly assessed the impact force and, deciding against any further action, swiftly realigned his orientation.

At this moment, Su Huan had turned pale as earth from the preceding scene, and Zeng Luo and the others beside him were no different.

It was too sudden—the backup parachute, meant as a reserve, had never been designed to deploy.

Yet the unexpected had occurred, and it had happened to Qin Yun, currently ranked number one.

Death?

Would the first Red Bull Cup end in a fatality?

At this speed, even if he survived, his legs would surely shatter under the impact.

"Whoosh—!"

Massive air currents tore past as Qin Yun drew closer to the ground.

Su Huan, Zeng Luo, and the others had their hearts lodged in their throats.

Fifty meters… thirty meters… ten meters… Boom—!

The next instant, Qin Yun's feet touched the ground. The terrifying impact struck the target center, and the nearby monitor instantly flashed a score—0!

At the same moment the impact reached him, Qin Yun's knees instinctively slid along the target's sponge and rolled away.

"Quick, ambulance, ambulance!"

The host shouted frantically.

But before his words had even faded two seconds later, a figure calmly stepped out of the parachute, then arrogantly waved to the distant spectators.

Instantly, the entire arena erupted.

"Qin, Qin, Qin!"

Cheers rang endlessly.

Seeing Qin Yun's calm demeanor, the host was stunned. What the fuck, are you even human? With that kind of landing impact, a few rolls and you're fine? What kind of move is that?

At this moment, Su Huan, Zeng Luo, and the others tried to rush over—but were blocked by staff.

After all, there were still competitors in the air; if someone collided with them, who would be liable?

"I'm fine, don't worry."

Qin Yun smiled faintly, then his expression darkened sharply as he looked toward Sharu, still airborne.

"Host, can you hear me?"

The host's name was Fabre, a famous presenter from an American TV station, specially invited by Red Bull.

Right before him on the desk was Qin Yun's live stream.

"Qin, I can hear you."

Qin Yun nodded and turned to see his close-up displayed on the big screen.

"You're surely wondering why I suddenly switched to the backup parachute."

Yes, everyone was curious—many had assumed he was chasing extreme limits, but clearly that wasn't the case.

Upon hearing his words, Sharu in midair and Lao Er, who was just unfastening his parachute, turned pale.

"I suddenly jettisoned my main parachute because the moment I deployed it, I discovered it was torn—I had no choice but to activate the backup."

As soon as he spoke, the entire arena erupted in uproar.

"What did Qin say? The main parachute was torn?"

"OMG, how did he notice?"

"No wonder."

Qin Yun looked up at Sharu: "I demand the official team immediately inspect the Pharaoh Club competitor—Sharu. I strongly suspect he used despicable means to tear my main parachute."

At these words, not only did host Fabre turn pale, but Red Bull's official staff also panicked.

"Moreover, I suspect all members of the Pharaoh Club were involved in this attempted murder. I demand the authorities be notified immediately and the Pharaoh Club be detained."

Qin Yun's two statements, with no room for retreat, were broadcast live to the entire world.

This left Red Bull with no choice—they immediately called the police and contacted the Pharaoh Club. But the staff's reply left everyone's heart sinking.

"Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?"

The staff looked crestfallen: "All Pharaoh Club members have departed by helicopter."

The authorities had originally dismissed Qin Yun's account as mere hearsay, but now it was clearly a case of hiding gold under the floor—beyond any denial.

Without hesitation, the official investigation team arrived swiftly; police immediately took control of Raoul and Sharu, then collected and inspected the parachutes.

Less than an hour later, the investigation results were out—every suspicion Qin Yun had raised was confirmed. The finger gloves found on Sharu and the tear in the main parachute proved beyond doubt that Qin Yun's account was true.

Added to this, the entire Pharaoh Club had departed, turning the attempted murder into an irrevocable case; no matter how much Sharu and Raoul protested, it was now futile.

As a result, the authorities even suspended the finals, delaying them by three full days.

On the morning of the third day, the official investigation findings and disciplinary actions delighted everyone following the case.

【Investigation Findings and Disposition Regarding the Pharaoh Club's Intentional Attempted Murder of Chinese Competitor Qin Yun During the First Red Bull Extreme Skydiving Cup…】