Free Lunch

"Habitus can't become Victor Arena's ace," the Persian Old Trainer said, shaking his head. "I told Gabi that his potential had already been fully developed. This is his limit now."

"Was his potential fully developed, or were you unwilling to develop it any further?" Zhang Heng asked.

The Persian Old Trainer smiled slyly and countered, "Is there any difference between the two?"

"Heh, I knew it."

"This isn't our fault," the Old Trainer said solemnly. "But I did miscalculate this time. We had originally agreed to take what we each needed, but afterward, he suddenly changed his mind."

"You expect me to believe Habitus broke his agreement with an ancient assassin organization? What, did he think he'd lived too long?"

"Though we are an assassin organization, we have more principles in our dealings than the vast majority of people in this world who claim to be noble. We do not indiscriminately kill innocents. Besides, strictly speaking, we had not yet entered into a contract with Habitus." The Old Trainer sounded somewhat helpless.

"I understand. You dangled bait before him, making him believe you really could improve his combat skills. Then he took the bait and learned that footwork from you, but had no intention of getting hooked. Very clever... So here's the question: you chose me as Habitus's replacement. Why do you think I'll take the bait? And what bait have you prepared for me?"

Steam had been billowing through the heated bathhouse the entire time, and Zhang Heng was now covered in sweat. The Persian Old Trainer across from him was in the same state. The latter spoke.

"There is no bait this time. Nor do I intend to treat you as Habitus's replacement, because Habitus was never our most suitable candidate from the start. We only chose him