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Following the lead Auror, Sang Biao casually sized up the Dementors around him.
To most prisoners, these creatures were terrifying nightmares.
But as a top-tier dark wizard, Sang Biao saw them as nothing more than pests.
If he hadn't dedicated himself entirely to the dark arts, with his strength, he could probably have become a headmaster at Hogwarts!
Wearing an expression of disdain, he followed the Aurors toward Azkaban. Before they even stepped inside, they heard the sound of people reading aloud.
"When parents are alive, one must not travel far. If one must, there must be a reason."
"Your parents are in my hands, so you can't run. Even if you do, I'll drag you back!"
Hearing this, the Aurors preparing to escort the prisoners inside froze for a moment.
It had only been a week—why were these scumbags suddenly into reading?
And what kind of book were they reading? Why did the interpretation sound so brutal?
Shaking his head, the lead Auror dismissed his thoughts. It didn't matter to him if the Azkaban inmates had lost their minds, as long as they weren't planning a riot or escape.
Before long, the new prisoners were assigned their cells.
Sang Biao easily blended into his assigned cell, waiting for the right opportunity.
---
The moment he stepped inside, Sang Biao scanned the other prisoners and smirked.
"Who's the boss of this cell?"
As soon as the Aurors left, he wasted no time asserting himself.
There's a saying: A mighty dragon can't suppress a local snake.
But Sang Biao refused to believe that nonsense.
He was a notorious wizard assassin, infamous across the magical world. Ever since he graduated from Hogwarts at 18, his Muggle-born status made it nearly impossible to find a respectable job.
So, he embraced the dark path, quickly making a name for himself in the underworld.
He was confident that he was the strongest—at least within this tiny cell.
After all, Azkaban's lower-security wing only held small-time offenders.
Compared to him, these minor criminals were nothing more than rookies.
"I am!"
A scar-faced man stepped forward from the prisoners. His weathered face was covered in scars, and he twirled a bloodstained knife in his hand.
This was Scar, recently appointed leader of the Azure Dragon Study Group by Lester.
Scar eyed the newcomer with clear disdain.
He had Lester backing him—who did this newbie think he was?
"What? You looking for trouble?"
Scar twirled his knife, his eyes locked on Sang Biao's kidneys, his blade making small, deliberate gestures.
Sang Biao sneered.
Was this guy seriously trying to intimidate him with a measly little knife?
Did he think Sang Biao—a top dark wizard—would be scared of some prison thug?
Amused, he smirked.
"And what if I am? What if I'm not—"
Before he could finish, pain exploded in his side.
He looked down.
The knife Scar had been playing with was now buried deep in his kidney.
A chill spread from Sang Biao's spine straight to his heart.
Was this guy insane?
Weren't they supposed to follow the usual routine?
First, introductions.
Then, sizing each other up.
Then, Sang Biao would announce his identity, earning the respect of these clueless inmates.
Finally, he'd naturally take over as the boss.
So why the hell did this guy stab him immediately?!
"Aren't you breaking the rules?"
Clutching his wound, Sang Biao still tried to reason with him.
"Shouldn't we at least—"
Stab!
Scar drove the knife in again.
The sharp squelch echoed in the cell, cutting off Sang Biao mid-sentence.
"Are you f—"
Another stab.
Sang Biao finally had enough.
He was a dark wizard, not a gang member!
Sure, he was powerful, but his strength came from magic, not from tanking knife wounds!
This guy had no sense of respect!
Fine.
If reason wouldn't work, then he'd use force.
Sang Biao's eyes darkened.
Slowly, he raised his hand.
"Avada—"
A faint green light flickered at his fingertips.
Just as he was about to unleash the Killing Curse—
Stab!
Scar struck again.
"Son of a—!"
Sang Biao had been so focused on casting the spell that he never expected Scar to interrupt with another stab.
The magical backlash hit him like a truck.
"Pfft!"
Blood sprayed from his mouth, splattering all over Scar's face.
Scar: "..."
Scar calmly wiped the blood off.
"Any last words?" he asked coldly.
He wasn't the same Scar from before. He was now Scar who had studied strategy!
He muttered under his breath: "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail."
Lifting his knife high, he aimed for Sang Biao's throat.
---
Seeing the blade descending toward his neck, Sang Biao turned pale.
Had he been out of the game too long?
Since when did low-level Azkaban inmates become so ruthless?
He hadn't even said anything that offensive!
Didn't they have any rules?!
As the knife closed in, Sang Biao made a snap decision.
Summoning all his strength into his legs—
He dropped to his knees.
"Big brother, I was wrong!"
Yes, he surrendered.
Faced with death, even the strongest dark wizard knew when to fold.
Dying to some no-name thug in Azkaban?
Now that would be a real waste.