Time seemed to slip through Alastor's fingers. Two days had vanished since he ended Harry and his companions' lives. Considering it was his first time killing anyone, he was surprisingly calm.
A faint prickle of guilt occasionally surfaced over the past 48 hours, but it was fleeting. The experience hadn't been the emotionally charged event he'd anticipated. Perhaps the shadow fragment was already warping his mind, dulling his emotions, or maybe he simply possessed less empathy than he'd believed.
These last two days had been dominated by a single, daunting task: figuring out how to complete his new mission. The system had given him a week to assassinate Wan He, a seemingly impossible feat. Failure would result in a rather unpleasant punishment: ten lightning bolts directly to his person. The system seemed to have a fixation on electrical discharges, and Alastor had every intention of avoiding becoming a human lightning rod.
