Having traversed countless realms, can you possibly be as clever as me?

“You are people who have done your duty,” Harley said, looking at them.

“And I am, without a doubt, a murderer. You are right, you are the law, you are the ones who punish people like me.”

As she spoke, a crimson light enveloped the area, and from the shadows, one figure after another emerged and stood beside her.

There are shadowy figures of gentlemen in top hats, women in elegant dresses, doctors in white coats, gunmen, soldiers, workers, and princes.

Without exception, they are all the result of speculation and misinformation about the identity of Jack the Ripper in human legends.

A shadow crept over Harley's entire body. Her voice changed; it was no longer the innocent voice of a thirteen-year-old girl, but a superposition of countless voices—men's, women's, children's, old people's, the living, the dead, and those who had never lived—resonating in the ears of every terrified policeman.

"But no matter what, you are still human beings, and as long as you are human, you will be killed by a murderer."

"—The fog will accompany the dawn in London"

The black mist exploded, and a black shockwave spread outwards from Harley in all directions. The suspended bullets were blasted away by the shockwave, bouncing off like toys. The searchlights went out, the police car engines stalled, and the streetlights flickered a few times before all going out.

423

.

The entire county of Surrey was plunged into darkness, pure, absolute darkness, devoid of any light.

Only those two blood-red flames burned in the darkness.

Together we will perish (from hell).

In the darkness, a huge outline is taking shape.

It was taller than police cars, taller than streetlights, taller than the surrounding houses. It stood in the night sky of Surrey, at the center of the blood mist, looking down at the tiny humans below.

Like bat wings, like dragon wings, long and thin limbs, horns twisted like sheep's or cow's horns protruding from the forehead, an unobservable pitch-black face, and eyes shining like searchlights within.

Demons, these enormous beings, are undoubtedly the result of humanity's fantasies about 'demons'!

The demon lowered its head, looking down at the world beneath its feet.

It—she—Harley saw the police cars, the policemen holding guns but trembling, the officials hiding behind the police cars, the neighbors peeking through the curtains, and everyone who had once ignored her, mocked her, been indifferent, cruel, kind, or innocent.

The megaphone fell to the ground, emitting a piercing noise.

Someone fired a shot. The bullet pierced through the fog and darkness, heading straight for the demon, but it bounced off the skin as if it were hitting thick armor.

The mist dissipated along with the release of the Noble Phantasm.

The demon raised her hand, aiming it at the police cars below, at the encirclement, and at the world that had once mocked her, abandoned her, and hurt her.

A blue beam of light shot out from outside the dissipated fog.

The beam of light hit Harley, and she suddenly felt drowsy, but the drowsiness quickly dissipated.

The demon turned his head and, through the mist, saw several figures standing at the edge of the mist.

An old man with a white beard, dressed in a purple robe, held a magic wand in his hand. His eyes were hidden behind half-moon spectacles, serious and complex.

A man in black robes, his face as pale as paper, his greasy black hair plastered to his face, pointed his wand in the direction of the demon, his hand trembling—not from fear, but for something else.

A stern old woman wearing glasses and a dark green robe pointed her wand steadily ahead.

Behind them were more figures dressed in robes of various colors. Although there was no basis for it, Harley understood the identities of these people from the mocking voice of the being named Tsurugi in her mind.

They are wizards

A group of people who should have appeared when she was eleven, but never did.

“Oh,” the demon said softly, in Harley’s voice, in the voice of that thirteen-year-old girl, in the teasing voice of Tsurugi.

"You've arrived?"

"You're two years late. Now, it's too late."

On the road to godhood, you have to kill, kill, kill! Chapter 294: Harley Quinn vs. Dumbledore!

Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, transforms into a demon and wreaks havoc in the Muggle world.

Dumbledore, heartbroken and weeping, slays the savior?

Rita Skeeter, who was hiding in her Animagus form, was so excited that she could hardly maintain her ladybug form.

Big news, really big news!

Take a deep breath, take a deep breath!

Seeing that no one cared about her, Rita Skeeter carefully flew to the best spot, transformed back into human form, and then took out the magic camera.

She wants to record the most explosive moment!

“Harley, if you’re still Harley Potter, please stop right now.”

Dumbledore pointed the Elder Wand at the demon in the sky, his tone calm and wise, yet carrying an undeniable air of authority.

"I know you had a terrible experience, but please calm down."

Harley Quinn tilted her head slightly, looked at Dumbledore, and suddenly laughed.

“Interesting—you, Albus Dumbledore, are you?”

"Do you know the true nature of the power that possesses me?"

She pointed to her chest, with a sense of exhilaration.

"He is Jack the Ripper, or rather, he belongs to humanity, that is, the product of the fantasies, fears, and creations of Muggles about Jack the Ripper."

"He doesn't actually have a fixed form; he's just the embodiment of humanity's concept of a serial killer."

"Therefore, I knew that I had gained some special powers—for example, the ability to create these shadow assassins who obey my commands."

With a wave of her hand, the countless writhing shadows beneath her feet instantly transformed into one after another pitch-black killer ghost.

"This posture is based on the idea that 'Jack the Ripper is a devil.' His transformation into a devilish posture is a product born from the underlying unease and fear of the people around him."

"It is less a demon and more a manifestation of the fear of killing."

Dumbledore frowned, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back.

To be honest, he didn't understand much of Harley's explanation either.

At first, he thought Harley's current form was the Obscurus form caused by prolonged repression!

But when he actually witnessed it, he was already certain it wasn't. This demonic form was more like a magical creature, or rather, the result of a wizard transforming into a magical creature through Animagus—a result that had been proven to be unacceptable.

Of course, these are all secondary; the most important thing is—

"What turned you into this? Ha... Miss Potter?"

Snape gripped his wand, gritting his teeth as he stared at Harry.

"What? It's probably the abuse from childhood, the discrimination from those around me, the bullying at school, the insults from others, and the nearly fourteen years of life living like an insect."

Harley shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about these words.

She didn't say a word, and Snape's body trembled, because he had experienced something similar!

But unlike Harley, he had Lily as a friend, and after starting school, he gained the ability to fight back. His relationship with James Potter was actually one of mutual hostility, not one of one-sided bullying.

Harry, on the other hand, was supposed to enter Hogwarts at age eleven, but she arrived two years late, and clearly, she was having a very difficult time!

Snape couldn't say whether bullying from Muggles or bullying from wizards was more terrifying, but right now he really, really wanted to kill those Muggles!

Oh, Harley has already killed everyone she needed to kill, so it's fine now.

“No matter what, this is no excuse for taking another person’s life, Miss Potter!” Professor McGonagall said sternly.

Harley, now in her demon form, observed the three of them with a strange gaze. The change in her personality at this moment was not only due to the intoxicating sense of omnipotence brought by the power, but also partly due to the special abilities that this power granted her.

“You—” she pointed at the three professors in front of her, smiling.

"Of the three of you, the gentleman who seems the worst has never killed a single person. And the old lady is also a respectable and good person who has hurt very few people in her life. But you are the only one, the great and respectable Professor Albus Dumbledore."

"Of these three, only you committed murder. Although it wasn't intentional, nor did you intend it, it was the result of the chaos..."

Her words made Dumbledore turn pale, his mouth slightly agape as if he were caught up in the worst memories of Godric's Hollow.

Harley didn't intend to provoke him any further.

The old man gave her an extremely dangerous feeling, and the demon within her—the one who gave him power, Tsurugi—was also lazily whispering something to her in her shadow.

"Don't be fooled by their seemingly weak magic. Many of their spells are actually terrifyingly powerful, designed to kill. After all, they are wizards from fairy tales."

"Of course, magic with a weak will is not enough to affect you, but..."

423 >>

.

The entire county of Surrey was plunged into darkness, pure, absolute darkness, devoid of any light.

Only those two blood-red flames burned in the darkness.

Together we will perish (from hell).

In the darkness, a huge outline is taking shape.

It was taller than police cars, taller than streetlights, taller than the surrounding houses. It stood in the night sky of Surrey, at the center of the blood mist, looking down at the tiny humans below.

Like bat wings, like dragon wings, long and thin limbs, horns twisted like sheep's or cow's horns protruding from the forehead, an unobservable pitch-black face, and eyes shining like searchlights within.

Demons, these enormous beings, are undoubtedly the result of humanity's fantasies about 'demons'!

The demon lowered its head, looking down at the world beneath its feet.

It—she—Harley saw the police cars, the policemen holding guns but trembling, the officials hiding behind the police cars, the neighbors peeking through the curtains, and everyone who had once ignored her, mocked her, been indifferent, cruel, kind, or innocent.

The megaphone fell to the ground, emitting a piercing noise.

Someone fired a shot. The bullet pierced through the fog and darkness, heading straight for the demon, but it bounced off the skin as if it were hitting thick armor.

The mist dissipated along with the release of the Noble Phantasm.

The demon raised her hand, aiming it at the police cars below, at the encirclement, and at the world that had once mocked her, abandoned her, and hurt her.

A blue beam of light shot out from outside the dissipated fog.

The beam of light hit Harley, and she suddenly felt drowsy, but the drowsiness quickly dissipated.

The demon turned his head and, through the mist, saw several figures standing at the edge of the mist.

An old man with a white beard, dressed in a purple robe, held a magic wand in his hand. His eyes were hidden behind half-moon spectacles, serious and complex.