Mr. Lane felt the cold, hard sensation at his neck and the throbbing pain in his head. Seeing Andrew Grant's icy expression, he shivered inwardly and suddenly realized that the young man before him was no pushover! If he wanted to avoid suffering any more losses, he'd better behave himself.

"I won't say anything more, I won't!" Mr. Lane saw Andrew Grant raise the book again, about to hit him on the head, and hurriedly cried out.

"If you'd done that earlier, you wouldn't have gotten hit. You really are just asking for a beating." Only then did Andrew Grant let go, sat back down in his chair, and curled his lips.

Mr. Lane was seething with anger inside, but at this point, he didn't dare act arrogant or talk back.

"By the way, just now you said this matter wouldn't end here, right? That you wanted me to kowtow to you and become your lackey, right?" After sitting down, Andrew Grant spoke again.

Mr. Lane and Olivia Baker exchanged a glance, then said in unison, "No, no, we were just joking earlier. It's just a piece of clothing, right? Let's just let it go, let it go."

A wise man knows when to retreat; better to fool this little brat for now and get out of here!

"Too bad you already let it slip just now. Do you think I'd believe you now? But if I don't believe you and just let you go, what if you come after me for revenge later? What am I supposed to do then?" Andrew Grant stroked his chin, looking troubled, his bright, sharp eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

Mr. Lane and Olivia Baker saw Andrew Grant's gaze shifting between them, his face troubled, and wished they could slap themselves.

Wasn't this just digging their own grave? If they'd just said to let the matter go and left earlier, it would have been fine. But they had to act tough and stubborn, and now this brat wouldn't let them off so easily. Who knew what tricks he might pull?

"Looks like I'll have to put in a bit more effort!" Andrew Grant stroked his chin and thought for a while before finally standing up with a troubled look. He took out two sheets of yellow talisman paper from a drawer, prepared some cinnabar, then picked up a calligraphy brush, dipped it in cinnabar, and handed it to Mr. Lane, saying, "Here, Mr. Lane, please write down your birth date and time, as well as your name."

"Birth date and time?" Mr. Lane looked at Andrew Grant in confusion.

"Yes, the year, month, day, and hour you were born. Once you've written that and your name, you can leave." Andrew Grant said.

"Really?" Mr. Lane asked in surprise. He thought he'd have to endure more torment from Andrew Grant, at least a beating, but it turned out to be this simple.

"Of course it's true." Andrew Grant nodded, a cold smile flashing deep in his eyes.

Mr. Lane didn't suspect anything, picked up the brush, and scrawled his birth date, time, and name on the yellow talisman paper. After he finished, without waiting for Andrew Grant's instructions, he dipped the brush in cinnabar himself and handed it to Olivia Baker.

Olivia Baker hesitated slightly as she took the brush, but in the end, she obediently wrote down her own birth date and time.

After all, it was just a birth date and name. She didn't believe that Andrew Grant, a country boy, could do anything with it.

"So can we leave now?" After finishing, Olivia Baker put down the brush and watched as Andrew Grant used scissors to cut the two sheets of yellow paper into the shape of people. For some reason, she suddenly felt a chill run down her spine and asked in a trembling voice.

After she spoke, realizing her own voice was shaking, Olivia Baker felt she was being overly nervous. These days, all those talismans, spells, and paper dolls were just things from TV and movies, all fake. How could a young person like her believe in such things? She must be out of her mind!

"Wait a moment!" Andrew Grant said with a smile. He used the scissors to snip a small lock of hair from both Olivia Baker and Mr. Lane's heads, then waved his hand and said, "You can go now."

Olivia Baker and Mr. Lane immediately turned to leave, but they didn't notice the cold smile curling at Andrew Grant's lips as he attached the hair to the paper dolls, as if forming the meridians of a human body.

Then, Andrew Grant flicked his finger lightly at the "knee" of the paper dolls.

"Ah!"

"Thud!"

Just as the two reached the door and were about to grab the handle, they suddenly felt a sharp pain at the back of their knees, lost their balance, and fell to their knees on the ground.

At first, they didn't think much of it, just wondered why their knees suddenly hurt, like being pricked by a needle. But when they realized their companion had also fallen to their knees, they shivered and blurted out, "Did your knee suddenly hurt too?"

The words came out almost simultaneously, and their faces instantly turned pale, cold sweat beading on their foreheads, their eyes filling with terror.

"You little brat, how dare you use dirty tricks on us!" After the initial shock, Mr. Lane suddenly turned around and glared angrily at Andrew Grant, who was sitting in his chair with his legs crossed, smiling, holding two paper dolls with the messy red birth dates and names written on them.

Earlier, they hadn't thought much of it, but now, seeing those messy red characters, they felt a chill run down their spines, as if something sinister was at play.