Sang Biao, I Need Your Help to Train

Taking a group of vicious Azkaban prisoners to raid the Ministry of Magic sounded simple enough, but actually carrying it out required extensive preparation.

If he really led this pack of vicious prisoners on a killing spree inside the Ministry of Magic, Lester could not guarantee he would not be caught in a stray Killing Curse.

Once the fighting began, who would be able to tell friend from foe?

This rabble would definitely start throwing Dark magic around and slaughtering people inside the Ministry of Magic at the first opportunity.

If he did not prepare some means of protection now, the day he escaped would be the day he died.

He might be doing well in Azkaban right now, but that was only because these Dark wizards did not have wands.

If they really got their hands on wands, Lester, who could only turn invisible and walk through walls, would be no match for them.

So, he needed to win more powerful skills through the lottery.

And it all had to come from the Sang Biao standing before him.

At that moment, Sang Biao had no idea danger was approaching. He was still delighted that he had found Lester so easily.

Looking at Sang Biao's delighted face, Lester showed him no mercy.

He pulled a small knife from his gray prison uniform and stabbed Sang Biao in the right hand.

[Ding! Fear Points from Sang Biao +1000]

As expected, the Fear Points from Sang Biao rang in Lester's ears.

Having just stabbed Sang Biao's right hand, Lester did not pause in the slightest. He swiftly pulled out the knife and viciously stabbed Sang Biao's still-unresponsive left hand.

"Ah!"

Only then did Sang Biao react under the intense pain. The agony made him cry out instinctively.

"Cut his hand tendons." Ignoring Sang Biao's wails, Lester coldly ordered Scarface beside him.

For a powerful wizard like Sang Biao, who could provide him with a thousand Fear Points at a time, Lester did not believe Sang Biao could not cast wandlessly.

So, for safety's sake, Lester intended to cripple both of Sang Biao's hands first. That way, he would not be able to cast wandlessly, and Lester would be safer.

Sang Biao: "..."

Though he had just been stabbed twice and was in terrible pain, Sang Biao's ears were perfectly fine.

He could no longer tell who the assassin was. Why did they keep talking about cutting his hand tendons at every turn?

Scarface froze at Lester's words. A moment later, a savage grin appeared on his face. He pulled out a homemade knife from his clothes and walked toward Sang Biao with a sinister smile.

Looking at Sang Biao still lying on the ground in a miserable state, with two bloody holes in his hands still gushing blood—

A ruthless glint flashed through Scarface's eyes. Without the slightest hesitation, he quickly severed Sang Biao's hand tendons.

Amid Sang Biao's bloodcurdling screams, the pleasant system notification sounded by Lester's ear once more.

[Ding! Fear Points from Sang Biao +1000]

[Ding! Fear Points from Sang Biao +1000]

[Ding! Fear Points from Sang Biao +1000]

[...]

Lester looked down at Sang Biao, who was rolling across the floor in agony, his expression blank.

Since Sang Biao wanted to kill him, he had to be prepared to be killed in return!

Besides, as an assassin, Sang Biao had probably taken countless lives. Treating him this way could be considered ridding the people of a menace.

Of course, Lester could not just kill him like this. He intended to "properly" entertain this fat sheep.

"Sang Biao, right?" Lester slowly crouched down and met the gaze of Sang Biao, who was sprawled on the ground.

A powerful killing intent surged from Lester's body and swept relentlessly toward Sang Biao.

After being stabbed, having his hand tendons cut, and finally having a potion bottle explode in his ass, Sang Biao had already completely broken down.

If his hands had still been intact, then once Lester and the others let down their guard, he could have killed them with a few Killing Curses.

But now...

Looking at his limp hands hanging uselessly against the ground, Sang Biao's eyes filled with tears of regret.

He regretted not killing that little bastard Scarface with wandless magic sooner. Because of that, he had been ambushed repeatedly afterward and never had the chance to cast a spell.

Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now.

What he needed to do now was survive under the hands of this little devil before him.

Looking up at Lester, who was staring back at him, Sang Biao's heart was filled with fear.

A handsome face, a high nose bridge, and a head of jet-black hair—despite wearing a dull gray prison uniform, he did not look the least bit downtrodden.

His calm expression seemed as if even the sky collapsing could not stir the slightest ripple across his face.

His tranquil eyes seemed to contain an entire galaxy, their serenity filled with endless killing intent.

This was a ruthless man. The moment he saw Lester, Sang Biao reached that conclusion from the bottom of his heart.

"Tell me, who sent you!"

Lester stared fixedly at Sang Biao. Endless killing intent showed in his black eyes.

Though Sang Biao was an assassin who had killed countless people, this was the first time he had ever seen such terrifying eyes.

[Ding! Fear Points from Sang Biao +1000]

Ignoring the system notification, Lester slowly raised his knife and began counting down with its tip aimed at Sang Biao's heart.

"10."

"9."

Numbers that had once been familiar now became symbols of death in Sang Biao's ears, violently pounding against his heartstrings.

He really was going to kill me. Sang Biao's pupils shrank as cold sweat continuously beaded on his forehead.

"8."

"4."

Suddenly, Lester's voice paused in the middle of counting. After saying eight, he did not say the seven Sang Biao expected, but instead skipped straight to a number far from eight—four!

What the fuck... Sang Biao's heart had already been tightly clenched. When Lester suddenly broke the pattern and said four, he was so frightened his heart nearly stopped.

Sang Biao was on the verge of tears. Big brother, is that how you interrogate someone? You jumped straight from eight to four. If you want me dead, just say so!

Of course, Sang Biao only dared to think that. Faced with real death, he decided it was better to give in.

Seeing the knife before his chest about to plunge into his heart, Sang Biao finally could not endure it any longer.

"It was Khalifa!"

Sang Biao, whose mental state had completely collapsed, shouted, "The Khalifa Lineage sent me!"

He no longer cared about an assassin's dignity. He was about to die—what use was dignity?

So, after hesitating for a brief half second, Sang Biao unhesitatingly gave up his employer.

But that was not all. To stay alive, Sang Biao's mouth turned into a machine gun as he rapidly began explaining the Khalifa Lineage's situation.

Since he had already defected, he might as well defect thoroughly.

Besides, when the Khalifa Lineage sent him here, they had clearly told him that the target was just a powerless little brat.

Who could have imagined that this little devil would be so ruthless, and that he would be doing so well in a hellhole like Azkaban!