Hermione, let's start a revolution from Hogwarts!

But he was so engrossed in these stories that he even fooled himself.

(Wait a minute... why does this remind me of Michael from Breaking Bad?)

“I’ll contact you during the summer vacation, and we’ll build another magic car then. But... remember, for ordinary people, you just need to claim it’s a ‘hovering car.’ You only need to have the core technology.”

As Nietzsche spoke, Lockhart sat there obediently writing.

All the plans were meticulously arranged, and Lockhart was certain that as long as he carried them out smoothly, he would enjoy more than just signing autographs... he could even become an international celebrity.

That's international! Comparable to someone like Dumbledore!

"You mean, have wizards make magical cars and then sell them to Muggles?" Lockhart realized something was amiss.

“Of course, would you sell it to the wizard himself?” Nietzsche looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Neuropathy.

Wizards can build their own 'hover cars,' so why would they need to buy one?

"But the 'Secrecy Law'..."

“Professor Lockhart doesn’t seem to want to be printed on the Chocolate Frog card. Okay, I’ll find someone else. You can just be a mascot.” Nietzsche quickly changed his mind and immediately agreed.

Provoked, Lockhart patted his head, then grinned again, showing his teeth.

"No, I was just asking~"

Chapter 131 The Sun of Great Britain?

Nietzsche wandered aimlessly along the sunlit train corridor.

When they were almost at King's Cross Station, he returned to his compartment, picked up the newspaper Hermione hadn't finished reading, and started flipping through it. He suddenly noticed that the ribbon binding the newspaper this time read 'Celebrating a Great Sale'.

Mercury crawled out of its cage and stretched its head out the window, but the speeding train made it unable to open its eyes.

Tom Riddle Attends the Trial Chamber—Is It a Plot by Dumbledore Against Malfoy? The Hogwarts Headmaster Points His Staff at the Minister of Magic

Right below the headline was a photo of Minister Fouché, with his deputy minister. The two obese figures squeezed together in the frame, each trying to stay in front of the camera for one more second.

The two men appeared very angry; if one didn't read the content, one would think the minister and deputy minister were angry because Malfoy had deceived them.

“It seems Fudge doesn’t know that Riddle is Voldemort, but at least Lucius has been removed from his position as a school board member,” Nietzsche said triumphantly. “Because of the wizards’ gossip, Fudge has temporarily sent him to Azkaban.”

With irrefutable evidence, coupled with the memories Lockhart extracted from Riddle's diary, Lucius had nowhere to run.

As soon as the news was released, the wizards who had lost their jobs due to the reclamation of the Malfoy family's territory also rose up against him, shouting wildly in the streets that Malfoy was a despicable villain.

In that black and white picture, Fudge was also hit on the head with a rotten egg.

Hermione took a sip of her chilled lemonade, and as the golden sunlight streamed through the leaves, she couldn't help but squint slightly.

“Azkaban…that’s a great place.” The girl stretched. “Lucius might not be lonely. After all, it’s a gathering place for dark wizards. Maybe he’ll run into a few acquaintances as soon as he goes in.”

As she fell to her side, she lifted her leg and used her toes to close the wooden door of the cubicle. Then, leaning against Nietzsche's knees, she pulled the newspaper from below like a hamster.

The whole movement was smooth and fluid.

"Although Ginny was being controlled, it still affected Mr. Weasley's Muggle Protection Act."

However, Hermione couldn't do anything about it, since Voldemort did open the Chamber of Secrets through Ginny, and if word got out, it would have some impact.

This was exactly what Nietzsche wanted, and with Lockhart's subsequent provocation, wizards could secretly study Muggle items.

Nietzsche secretly glanced down and saw those chocolate-colored eyes intently reading the newspaper. She breathed a sigh of relief; at least she didn't know what Lockhart had done and only thought he was a conman who made money by telling stories.

The leisurely summer days officially begin from this moment.

When the train stopped at the station, Nietzsche was the last to get off. He used both hands to support himself on the handrail and moved forward little by little.

Mycroft was the one who picked them up this time. He was dressed in a black suit and stood solemnly next to the Grangers. Although he was trying to be formal, he couldn't hide the comical look in his physique.

"What happened to your leg?" Mycroft asked, leaning on his cane and looking at him strangely.

“It’s nothing, my legs are just numb from all the luggage, they’ll be fine after a while.” Nietzsche looked at Hermione, who was hopping around, and added, “It’s pretty heavy luggage, probably heavier than when I took it to school.”

After hugging her parents, Hermione grinned and showed off her front teeth.

"Isn't there even a place to put your suitcase on the wizard's train?" Mycroft simply nodded to the Grangers as a greeting.

There is a place to put the suitcase, of course, but what if she insists on making room for a large space?

“That depends on whether the suitcase wants to or not.” Nietzsche straightened his legs and took a stiff step forward.

"You wizards' things are really strange..."

In fact, he wasn't curious why Uncle Mycroft would come to pick him up himself, because he had already told him about the magic car plan before leaving school.

This was no small matter. You see, a car that doesn't need fuel and can fly—if word got out, it would be enough to spark discussion just from people's speculations. Once Nietzsche got into the car, Mycroft couldn't hold back any longer.

After getting into the driver's seat, he let out a long sigh of relief, as if walking from the parking lot to the station was a long and strenuous exercise.

"You want wizards to enter human society through labor and production?"

Mycroft's words hit the nail on the head, accurately grasping the purpose of the other party's plan.

“If you can find a faster and more stable way.” Nietzsche spread his hands noncommittally, then leaned back in the driver’s seat, his shoes still on, and stepped directly onto the seat.

He slowly bent his legs, and the tingling sensation in his mind turned into static on a television screen.

That's unbelievable! Why didn't he resist back then?

As Mycroft drove, he saw the shoes on the seat through the rearview mirror on the roof, and felt a tingling sensation in his heart, like ants crawling on it, but his spiritual cynicism twisted him to ignore this behavior.

Great! Nietzsche stepped on his vanity!

“I’m not saying this method is bad, it just sounds a bit…” Mycroft paused for a moment before continuing, “a bit Comic, you know, a lot of people are a bit neurotic about this.”

But as Nietzsche said, the only ways for wizards to connect with the outside world are through war, trade, and production.

However, on some levels, this theory is closer to the former Soviet Union, even though it no longer exists. But some people in Britain are rather neurotic and sensitive about it.

“Our goal is to get the wizards to open the door. At least the huge profits will make your boss accept it. Besides… if you don’t explain the source of the theory, who will know?” Nietzsche said weakly.

"Dealing with a bunch of short-sighted people every day is the most frustrating part for me. Okay, I can reserve a spot for you at the exhibition this summer..."

Mycroft appeared very humble, only sighing repeatedly.

Is there a curse on the Holmes family?

Sherlock remembers every detail he sees, yet he spends his days giving advice and cleaning up the messes of short-sighted people. What about Nietzsche?

Hopefully, wizards are all guys who can change fate...

“My boss is very interested in this matter. You are very lucky because the British economy is hopeless right now, and even the Queen is planning to take action against some of the incompetent members of the royal family.”

This is all thanks to Nietzsche. After MI6 uncovered the Malfoy family's scandals, the Prime Minister and the Queen immediately began to investigate the royal family themselves.

They wanted to see which other princes and princesses from collateral branches and pure-blood wizards were secretly colluding.

"They think this will help the economy?" Nietzsche asked, puzzled.

"Help?" Mycroft said helplessly. "They even think that a car that can hover will make Britain rise in the world. You've never heard them say such crazy things as 'Britain can become the sun never sets again'."

His fervor was something he couldn't explain.

Mycroft actually wanted to mention something to them: with the mess still unresolved and diplomatic relations with the IRA still undefined, they were already fantasizing about the British Empire.

It's a true British tradition—if it's useful, use it to the fullest.

Chapter 132 Ravenclaw's Obsession with Face

After a period of rest, Nietzsche buried himself in Quirrell's laboratory the following week.

He had originally wanted to invite Hermione along, but she was busy replying to letters from her friends and couldn't make it at the moment.

But this gave Quirinas a headache, not because of Nietzsche's involvement, but because of another person—Gidero Lockhart.

“You didn’t say he would come too.” Quirrell looked at Lockhart, who was grinning foolishly like a country bumpkin, poking at a glass bottle and touching a machine tool, and his anger flared up. “Anyone would have been fine, why this idiot of all?”

“Because I’m not an adult yet…” Nietzsche innocently pointed to his wand.

There was no other way. If they relied solely on Lockhart, who knew how long it would take, and since he couldn't use magic himself, they had no choice but to bring him to Quirrell for refuge.

And so, the two Ravenclaws who couldn't stand each other clashed.

“What kind of talk is that!” Lockhart stood behind the display case, looking at the two of them, and said, “You’re so out of touch, Quirinas. Go ask around in Diagon Alley, everyone knows who I am!”

His face was squashed by the glass jar, making his expression of disgust even more distorted.

Professor Quirrell? He'd never heard of such a person in the wizarding world. If Nietzsche hadn't insisted that he collaborate with someone else, he wouldn't have come... Inventing a magical car is something he can do alone!

“Thief,” Quirrell said coldly.

“Mediocre!” Lockhart pulled out his wand and, like a monkey in a circus, performed all sorts of tricks with it.

"Oh? So you want to have a match with me?"

"Come on, let me see how big the gap is between you and the Dark Lord."

Lockhart announced his proudest achievement—defeating the Dark Lord's soul.

However, this had no effect on Quirrell. He took off his work clothes and rubber gloves, and simply waved his palms to the left and right, moving all the shelves to the wall.

"The Dark Lord? It's not like nobody's ever won..."

Nietzsche watched the two people whose demeanor was becoming increasingly strange and thought to himself: When did Voldemort become a unit?

"You two...can you be serious for once?!" He slumped in his chair, turning around blankly. "Can't we just work together and build a magical car? The future of the wizarding world depends on you two."

Lockhart sensed Quirrell's powerful magic and suddenly hesitated, but still stubbornly said, "I'm used to working alone!"

"This is your new partner?" Quirrell chuckled coldly, turning to his back and saying, "Forgive my bluntness—not very good. I thought you were never wrong about your judgment."

Back in his student days, he discovered that there was such a person in Ravenclaw.

A freak from Ravenclaw who spends all his time trying to get the attention of his classmates and professors by acting silly.

“In fact, Nietzsche’s decision to collaborate with me was the best one ever,” Lockhart said, patting himself on the back. “I can lead the wizarding world, unlike you… who hides in your lab studying dark magic.”

They even set trends; it's good enough if you don't follow the crowd.

“You know all his messy affairs, he could have avoided all this trouble…” Quirrell couldn’t help but complain.

He was like a busy butler, just finishing what he was doing when his young master came up with a new idea, and he, the butler, had to start preparing all over again.