He simply felt that there was too much danger here. The small prison cell was like a jungle haunted by wild beasts, ready to swallow him up at any moment.

He had no choice but to be cautious, so he didn’t dare sleep all night, shrinking into a corner and watching. Sure enough, he waited until Brian Carter made his move.

William Thompson didn’t close his eyes the entire night and had already adapted to the darkness, able to see Brian Carter’s face, his expression as ferocious as a wild beast.

“Who told you to kill me?” he asked, his voice icy cold.

Brian Carter didn’t answer, letting out a guttural “huh” sound, still struggling desperately.

He was clearly still unconvinced, not believing that William Thompson could control him, and tried to break free.

William Thompson did indeed feel it was difficult.

This body was far less agile and strong than in his previous life.

Knocking down Brian Carter relied on technique, but keeping him subdued required strength. William Thompson felt himself gradually losing control over Brian Carter, so he glanced to the side, trying to find the weapon Brian Carter had just held...

At that moment, Brian Carter suddenly kicked William Thompson away, broke free, and fiercely grabbed William Thompson by the throat.

Brian Carter had killed three people last year and was quite experienced in murder.

But now, missing an index finger on his right hand, he couldn’t use his full strength to strangle William Thompson immediately.

“Huff... huff... huff...”

Harsh, beast-like breathing filled the air.

Brian Carter’s veins bulged as he gripped William Thompson’s neck tightly, the wound on his medicated finger splitting open again.

All he wanted was William Thompson’s life, and he was confident.

In his eyes, this kid was just a frail scholar—how could he possibly fight a desperado like him?

Besides, that person had said, as long as he killed William Thompson, he’d be let out.

“Huff... huff...”

Brian Carter squeezed William Thompson’s neck with his left hand, reached out with his right, and felt for William Thompson’s face, searching for his eyes with his fingers, wanting to gouge them out.

“Die, die!”

Brian Carter shouted in his heart.

His fingers had already found William Thompson’s eyes and were about to dig in...

A sudden “puff” sound.

Something abruptly stabbed into the back of Brian Carter’s neck.

It was a knife made from half a bone, sharpened to a fine edge.

William Thompson gripped the bone knife, pulled it out, and stabbed again.

Warm blood flowed over his hand, making him feel nauseous.

He pried Brian Carter’s hand off his neck, and Brian Carter collapsed to the ground.

William Thompson gasped for breath, backing up several steps until he hit the wall.

He held the bone knife in one hand, knees slightly bent.

This was a defensive stance from fencing, something he did instinctively.

He had once been hailed as the greatest fencer of the mid-21st century, having won six men’s épée gold medals and two men’s team épée golds... but all that was far behind him now.

He had become a condemned prisoner, and now, truly, a killer—in this damned ancient era.

In the darkness, the prisoners in the other cells were still jeering, as if cheering for him, just like in the arena before, but in reality, it wasn’t the same.

“What happened?” Henry Clark asked, “What happened? Big Carter, what did you do to Little William? Hey, it’s just for fun, we’re all brothers in the same cell, don’t let it end in another death...”

At the end of the corridor, there was noise again at the cell door.

A jailer cursed, “What’s going on?! Why are you making such a racket in the middle of the night?!”

As the torchlight spread, more and more people saw the corpse of Brian Carter lying in a pool of blood.

“Murder!” someone cried out in shock.

This was clearly a prison, filled with all sorts of vicious criminals, yet at this moment, they all seemed genuinely surprised.

And the jailers were also walking over toward William Thompson...

William Thompson maintained his stance, his mind racing, thinking about how to get out of this predicament...

...

At cockcrow, the sky was still dark.

John Foster was awakened by the doorman’s knocking; he had always been a light sleeper.

“What did you say?”

When he heard the news from the doorman, John Foster was stunned for a moment.

He hadn’t changed clothes to sleep, so he grabbed his hat and headed out, once again making his way to the Qiantang County prison.

...

“Sir.” Edward Brooks came up to him, wearing a panicked smile. “The person you wanted... is dead.”

“What happened?” John Foster didn’t stop walking.

Edward Brooks couldn’t answer, mumbling, “I just got here myself, this... the situation...”

John Foster’s face was cold as he quickly passed through gate after gate, walking down the corridor.

Finally, he stopped and looked at the two cells.

He saw Matthew Cooper’s burly body sprawled across the thick wooden bars between the two cells, his mouth and chest covered in blood.

This fierce man was already stone dead.

John Foster frowned, anger flashing in his eyes. He turned his gaze to the other corpse in the neighboring cell.

It was Brian Carter, his throat stabbed twice.

The murder weapon was the same as the one that killed Matthew Cooper, probably something like a dagger...

John Foster quickly found the weapon—it was still in the hand of a young man.

He remembered this youth; he was the one who had bitten off Brian Carter’s finger.