Chapter 223 - 149: Using Him as a Sacrifice for the Banner

Han Lei turned around and asked everyone else to leave, including Ms Li, leaving only Hua Tianyou and the old lady.

When Han Lei turned back around, at some point, a surgical knife had appeared in her hand.

The blade gleamed with a cold light under the solar lamp.

Han Lei’s expression was calm, but her gaze was sharp as a knife, seemingly able to penetrate the mute silence of the death warrior.

"I can understand if you say nothing."

She spoke slowly, her voice soft yet icy.

"You people have long disregarded life and death. Pain and torture are merely routine for you."

The death warrior remained silent, not even raising his eyelids.

Han Lei smiled faintly, and the surgical knife in her hand turned slightly, the blade near the death warrior’s wrist but not cutting immediately.

Her movements were extremely slow, as if she were waiting for something.

The death warrior’s breath hitched for a moment, though it was subtle, yet Han Lei keenly captured it.

"Do you know?" her voice was gentle, as if making small talk, "The human body’s pain nerves are unevenly distributed. In some places, a light touch can cause excruciating pain, while in others, even a cut doesn’t bring much pain."

Her knife tip moved slowly, tracing up the death warrior’s arm and finally stopping at the inside of his elbow joint.

"Here," she lightly tapped with the blade tip, "is a nerve called the ulnar nerve. If I lightly sever it with the tip, your hand will immediately go numb, never able to wield a sword again."

Her tone remained calm, as if discussing the weather.

The death warrior’s breathing quickened slightly; although he still didn’t lift his head, his fingers curled slightly.

Han Lei did not stop, continuing, "Of course, this is just the beginning. Next, I’ll sever your radial nerve, and then your median nerve. Your arm will be completely crippled, never to recover."

Her knife tip lowered slowly, stopping at his wrist, "However, this isn’t the most painful part."

Her gaze fell on the death warrior’s face, a faint smile on her lips.

"The most painful thing is, I will let you watch as your arm gradually loses function bit by bit, and you’ll be powerless. You will feel every nerve snap, feel your muscles gradually lose control, feel yourself becoming a cripple."

The death warrior’s breathing became increasingly rapid, beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. His fingers clutched tightly at the edge of the chair, knuckles white.

As a death warrior, he feared not death but becoming crippled. Task failure, and being crippled—such an outcome was unacceptable to both him and his master.

After returning, his master would only grant him death, but if he couldn’t return, what could a cripple do?

Han Lei’s soft yet icy voice still echoed in the death warrior’s ears.

"You have no family or attachments. So, perhaps you don’t fear death, but do you fear becoming a cripple? Someone who can’t even hold a sword, or even pick up a bowl and chopsticks?"

The death warrior’s throat bobbed as he finally lifted his head, a hint of struggle in his eyes.

Han Lei paced around the table, her gaze unintentionally lingering on the surgical knife in her hand.

"This world, besides dark corners, actually has brilliant sunshine. It’s not easy being human, so why sacrifice your life or risk becoming crippled for something that’s not worth it?"

The death warrior’s lips trembled slightly as if wanting to speak, but he swallowed the words back.

Han Lei didn’t give him the chance to hesitate; the tip of the knife lightly flicked, and the death warrior’s arm trembled violently, a surge of pain radiating from his wrist.

The death warrior didn’t scream, but his fingers twitched uncontrollably, as if the strength in his hand had been suddenly drained.

Han Lei’s precision was absolute; even the death warrior could judge. He looked at the charming and sweet girl in front of him with terror, as if looking at a demon.

"That’s the first nerve," Han Lei’s voice remained calm, "Next is the second. You must trust my medical skills—if you regret it now, I can still restore some function to your hand. If you wait any longer, there will be no chance."

The death warrior swallowed, his breathing completely disordered, and finally, fear showed in his eyes. He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse and trembling.

"Stop... I... I’ll talk..."

Han Lei stopped her actions, the knife tip still on his skin, looking at him coldly.