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American Fast & Furious NSFW
America's #1 Scumbag NSFW
Influencing someone is simple; you just need to find their breaking point.
Terence's breaking point was Helena. He couldn't stand seeing any other man get close to her, let alone tolerate the fact that the person she loved wasn't him.
His desire for control was intense. Most aristocrats had a strong need for control, but Terence's had evolved into an obsession.
Because he couldn't control the outcome, repeatedly failing to get what he wanted, his desire twisted into a deep-seated fixation.
Under the influence of Morgana le Fay's dark magic, this fixation turned Terence manic and unreasonable.
The drastic shifts in his emotions made this all too clear.
Helena was sobbing her heart out, Rey was in agonizing pain, yet Terence was laughing with pure, unadulterated joy.
He was finally releasing all his pent-up emotions, all his hatred. He could do whatever he wanted now. As long as he used Obliviate in the end to wipe Rey from Helena's memory, everything would reset. They could go back to the beginning.
At the very least, back then, Helena didn't hate him. Back then, he was the most outstanding wizard among her peers. Back then, Helena hadn't fallen for this promise-breaking coward.
"I want you dead. Helena is mine."
Holding Rey by the collar with his left hand, Terence leaned in close, sneering as he declared his victory.
Rey suppressed the excruciating pain in his heart and looked at Terence with pity. "Helena doesn't belong to anyone. She belongs only to herself."
At this point, Terence didn't care about whether Rey had kept his promise. What he cared about was seeing Rey helpless, desperate, begging for mercy.
More than anything, he wanted to prove to Helena that Rey MacFusty was inferior to Terence Barrow—that she had chosen the wrong man.
But now?
Rey showed no sign of begging. In fact, that look of pity in his eyes was like someone looking at a pathetic beggar.
"You're pitying me...?"
Terence narrowed his eyes, a low growl rumbling in his throat like a beast about to devour its prey.
Did he, Terence Barrow, a noble wizard, need pity from a nobody with no background?
Absolutely not. But this person was looking at him with those eyes—eyes that pitied a beggar. It infuriated him beyond measure.
Terence twitched his wand, increasing the magical output, and roared, "Go pity the dead in hell, Rey MacFusty!"
At the same moment, Rey took a deep breath. With a burst of sudden movement, he raised his right hand and slapped it firmly onto Terence's forehead.
The Cruciatus Curse was powerful, but it primarily inflicted unbearable pain. While the agony made one wish for death, it didn't completely paralyze the body.
Earlier, when Rey had been blasted back by the Stunning Spell, he had used the time lying on the ground to prepare. Using his own blood, he had drawn a small exorcism circle on his right palm—a technique he had learned from the Peverell gravekeeper in Godric's Hollow.
The miniature exorcism circle was primed in his hand. A single palm strike was all it took to imprint it onto Terence's forehead.
---
After landing the strike, Rey couldn't hold back anymore and let out a roar of pain. Before the hit, his mental focus had been absolute.
That intense concentration acted like self-hypnosis, allowing him to momentarily ignore the agony and channel everything into that one slap.
The impact snapped Terence's head back. Simultaneously, Rey's mental focus broke.
With his willpower relaxing, the pain crashed over him like a tidal wave.
No longer held up by Terence, Rey collapsed, curling into a ball on the floor.
However, Terence wasn't faring any better.
He stood frozen, head tilted back, the blood-drawn magic circle on his forehead glowing. A column of bloody light erupted from it, and from the center of that light, thick black mist began to pour out.
Terence's eyes bulged, his muscles spasming violently. Veins popped out all over his body. He was locked in that posture, but inside him, it looked as if something alien was struggling to get out.
Low, guttural groans escaped his throat. His twisted expression suggested that his current suffering far exceeded what he had just inflicted on Rey.
Rey had used mental focus to endure the pain. Terence wanted to scream to vent his agony, but his body was paralyzed, and no sound could escape his throat.
The black mist pouring from the circle on his forehead turned into thick black smoke, accompanied by a sizzling sound.
The scene was eerie. Helena, lying on the ground, watched in shock, while the thin wizard controlling her looked on in sheer terror.
The Cruciatus Curse had been broken the moment the exorcism circle took effect.
Clutching his chest, Rey picked up his wand and stood up, fixing a cold stare on the terrified thin wizard.
Terence's wretched state surprised the wizard, but Rey's gaze terrified him.
Rey had been tortured enough. After getting up, he didn't even spare Terence a second glance.
Exorcising Terence was the extent of his mercy. The memory of the torture was still fresh. If he felt no hatred at all, he would be a saint, not a man.
"I owed you. Now, we're even."
Rey spoke calmly, unsure if the frozen Terence could hear him.
Breaking his promise not to compete for Helena was Rey's fault. But with this exorcism, the debt was paid. If Terence tried to kill him again, Rey wouldn't hesitate to end him.
---
With the pain gone, Rey was mentally exhausted. Yet, facing the thin wizard standing next to Helena, he felt a strange sense of ease—as if he could deal with this man effortlessly.
Even in his weakened state, the feeling persisted.
Enduring the Cruciatus Curse seemed to have given Rey a deeper understanding of his own body.
Pain is a way to understand oneself.
Unless something hurts, who pays attention to their own internal workings? Most people only notice, understand, and think about their bodies when pain draws their attention.
Sometimes, intense pain can create a 3D map of the affected area in one's mind. Pain is a signal; when it's extreme enough, the brain visualizes the specific structure and impact zone.
Under the Cruciatus Curse, Rey had felt his heart being crushed. That extreme sensation had allowed his mind to automatically construct a detailed map of his cardiovascular system—the shape of his heart, the connecting vessels, the origin point of the pain, and how it spread. Everything was laid bare in his mind.
It was a real, yet mystical feeling. In this moment, Rey knew exactly how to lift his arm to control his wand with perfect coordination and speed.
So, despite his weakness, he was confident he could crush the terrified wizard.
" Avada... "
" Avada Kedavra! "
The thin wizard raised his wand and began the incantation.
He wasn't slow, but Rey was faster. His casual flick was lightning quick compared to the wizard's frantic motion.
Green lightning surged forth, cutting off the wizard's spell and blasting him backward to the ground.
Killing casually with a wave of his hand felt... normal. If Rey didn't kill him, the wizard would have killed Rey. For this act of self-defense, he felt no psychological burden.
With another wave of his wand, Rey lifted the Leg-Locker Curse on Helena.
Helena, covered in blood, scrambled up from the ground and immediately threw herself into Rey's arms.
"It's okay. It's over."
Rey patted her back with his right hand, feeling her tight embrace, and comforted her weakly.
"Are you alright?"
Helena sobbed, asking softly. No matter how strong-willed or tough she was, she was still an emotional girl who had just been through hell.
"I'm fine. Just a bit drained," Rey replied with a smile.
"Mhm," she responded obediently.
---
However, just then, another voice echoed from the tunnel.
"My apologies for interrupting the mood. But that duel just now... truly spectacular."
Andre Rosier, the aristocratic wizard Terence had sent away, stood at the tunnel entrance. Just like Terence before him, he had appeared out of nowhere.