The Return to Hogwarts

As if struck by the most severe Cruciatus Curse, every second, endless pain surged through his soul like a relentless tidal wave, making the incredibly resilient Grevis want to collapse and scream. And in the short time it took to ride the elevator to the floor where the security department was located, Grevis, who had been deathly pale in the restaurant, suddenly turned as red as blood—

It seemed as if many earthworm-like bloodworms had suddenly sprouted beneath his skin. These wriggling things seemed to be devouring his flesh and blood, making the once robust and tall Grevis's body wither and dry!

Most of the Aurors in the Security Department work in the field, and not many stay in the office to write reports. It just so happens that it's time to leave work, and the office is empty, which is why Grevis managed to keep his secret.

He practically sprinted toward his office, and after a flash of green light in the fireplace, Grevis had already left Woolworth House and appeared in his secret safe house.

boom!

A blinding red light shattered the niche containing the alchemical instruments, blasting spellbooks and potions out.

Grevis let out a low growl like a hungry wolf, charging towards the potion that could suppress his pain as if he hadn't eaten for days. His sanity, on the verge of collapse, prevented him from even pulling out the cork; instead, he opened his teeth, which had somehow become sharp, and bit down hard on the glass bottle he held in his hands—

Click!

As the bottle shattered, a pillar of grayish-white blood flowed from his mouth, but Grevis ignored the insignificant pain. He roared and swallowed the splattered potion, not even caring that he had swallowed a lot of broken glass!

boom--

A few breaths later, Grevis collapsed onto the wooden floor, which gleamed in the dim candlelight.

This time the pain was exceptionally long. Even after drinking the potion, the pain caused by the curse continued, but his withered body did improve, and his skin regained its healthy color.

Hmm--

A trickle of blood still flowed from deep within Grevis's mouth and nose, staining his already disheveled white shirt red. His once neatly combed gray hair was now disheveled, stained dark brown by the blood on the floor.

About ten minutes later, his convulsing body finally subsided, but Grevis didn't get up. He lay there on the cold floor, staring resentfully at a large shard of broken glass in front of him.

The shards of glass reflected his disheveled face, and some changes were forever etched on his features.

Undoubtedly, the dark red in his eyes had deepened, his hair was more gray than it had been in the past half hour, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were profound. Although his blood-stained teeth had recovered somewhat, they still appeared much sharper than normal teeth.

"I don't have time."

After a long while, a dejected whisper echoed in the otherwise quiet study.

"I had no choice but to do this because I couldn't eliminate all the threats."

Ugh--

As night deepened, the massive luxury cruise ship, carrying tourists from all over the world, cruised the East River. Just before passing under the Brooklyn Bridge, the ship's deep but penetrating horn attracted envious glances from the shore and the bridge.

The luxury cruise ship reflected its shimmering light on the lake, and the faint sounds of laughter and melodious music drew all eyes. No one noticed that as the cruise ship passed under the bridge, a listless-looking man emerged from the water on a bridge pier just thirty feet away.

Splash--

The lake water was still a bit cold in the early spring night. The man who had struggled to climb up the platform at the bottom of the bridge pier was shivering from the cold. Of course, his pale face was not only due to the cold, but also because of the wounds all over his body.

The man showed no sign of relief after escaping the river. On the contrary, when he noticed blood flowing from his wounds and mixing with the water dripping from his wet clothes as it flowed into the river, a hint of sternness appeared on his pained expression.

He knew this would leave a loophole, and those ruthless guys would find him through that loophole and take his life.

hiss--

Every tiny movement was accompanied by the excruciating pain of his wounds tearing open, but the man had no choice. He raised his hand, took the wand from his mouth, and waved it a few times with trembling hands. The streaks of crimson that had been mingling with the river water gathered together under the influence of magic, coalescing into a blood sphere reflecting the neon lights.

In the deep-colored river, a large black bass swam past the man, panting a few times. The man controlled the blood droplets sealed by magic and let them sink into the mouth of the large black bass that had come out to breathe. The startled bass immediately plunged into the water and swiftly swam away into the distance.

This could buy some time—the man thought, glancing at the air conditioner as he tended to his wounds.

Staying here was still unwise; those ruthless fellows would soon find him with their keen sense of smell. Although he was exhausted to the point of near unconsciousness, he gritted his teeth and mustered his strength—

boom--

After the resounding crash of the melting river water, the man disappeared from the bridge pier.

And just as he had predicted, only a few minutes after he left, a group of wizards dressed in black cloaks riding flying brooms flew across the river, which was reflecting the colorful neon lights, and suddenly landed under the Brooklyn Bridge, suspended in mid-air.

The leader revealed only a pair of sinister eyes. He stared at the bridge pier where the man had just stood and twitched his nostrils.

"He stayed here."

A cold, emotionless voice emanated from beneath the hood, while the well-trained subordinates behind him listened silently without making a sound.

He rested here for a while, but soon left again.

The leading wizard continued, twitching his nostrils and a hint of confusion in his eyes, but then, seeing the shimmering river beneath him, he seemed to understand.

"He went back underwater, thinking that this would mask the smell of blood. It was indeed very faint, but some traces could still be detected. Let's go, we must eliminate this threat."

After saying that, the group sped away again.

In the dead of night in Brooklyn’s 75th block, the darkness may be more active than the daytime, with sporadic gunshots continuing until the moon was high in the sky.

In the dark streets filled with the stench of churning sludge from the sewers, several men carrying Muggle guns, their arms and shoulders adorned with skulls, walked arm in arm, reeking of alcohol and cursing, toward their hideout—a small warehouse piled with car parts and miscellaneous items.

"These sons of bitches, don't think they can take over our territory just because they killed Big Black Star!"

The man at the head of the group, who weighed at least two hundred pounds, kicked open the warehouse's iron door with a bang. The guard dog, seemingly startled, immediately began barking wildly as the group entered. What greeted it was a burst of bullets and loud laughter as it fled in panic.

The hazy moonlight flowed into the dark warehouse the moment the door opened, casting bizarre and illusory light and shadow on the cart racks piled up to the ceiling in the front half of the warehouse, while the back half of the warehouse remained hidden in deep darkness.

"Hey boss, don't you think something's off?"

A lean, drunk man wearing a black jacket adorned with iron rings and steel studs, and sporting a lip piercing, suddenly twitched his sensitive nostrils. Amidst the pungent smell of engine oil, he detected a scent that made him uneasy. Before anyone could respond to his question, a dark puddle of water on the ground in front of him sent chills down his spine, instantly dispelling most of his drunkenness!

"Damn bitch!"

The lean man suddenly shouted, and under the dazed gazes of the others, he raised his machine gun and aimed it deep into the warehouse.

"Get out of here!"

boom!

The sudden bang startled the group of drunks so much that they almost picked up their machine guns and opened fire, but their remaining rationality told them that if they did, they might be the first to die.

The iron gate slammed shut without warning, allowing darkness to reign supreme once more. In the gloom, something strange seemed to be approaching.

A strong smell of blood—

The skinny Muggle with a bit of talent had caught a whiff of it. He suddenly picked up his sword and rushed straight into the depths of the warehouse, but before his shout could even leave his throat, it was cut off by a flash of blue light!

Terrified and painful screams, frantic and powerless gunshots, and rapid and piercing pounding on the door echoed within the warehouse, but eventually all came to an end. Under a series of mournful curses, when all the sounds subsided, the locked iron door finally opened again, and a staggering figure stepped over the Muggles lying on the ground and stood in the pale moonlight.

Gunshots could still be heard intermittently from a block away; the hustle and bustle and civilization of New York seemed irrelevant here.

Ryuhei Sato leaned against the iron gate frame, panting as he looked at the brightly lit skyscrapers under the night sky. His exhausted eyes revealed a hint of hysteria.

How can we get out of our current predicament?

Chapter 917 It Was Foreseen

2024-05-15

"Your dad and mom invited me to their house for dinner?"

Inside the presidential suite of the hotel where he was staying, Amosta slowly placed the wine glass in his hand on the snow-white marble bar table with swirling patterns, raising his eyebrows slightly.

He certainly wasn't surprised that the Detts invited him to their home for dinner. It would have been strange for Amosta if the elderly couple hadn't reacted after recognizing him, but it would have been reasonable for him to show some doubt on the surface.

"Oh, of course--"

Feeling the suddenness of the situation, Amelia's cheeks flushed red, and she could barely maintain her usual expressionless face. She quickly looked at Remus, who was looking up in their direction.

"And Remus."

Amelia looked at Remus weakly, "My father really enjoyed the stories and anecdotes about the British magical world that you shared with him, so he invited you as well."

"Oh, thank you--"

Remus snapped out of his daze, glancing between Amostella, who was deep in thought, and Amelia, who was trying her best to hide her shyness, his lips unconsciously pursing.

If Remus couldn't figure out who the Detts were truly inviting between him and Amosta, and who was just an extra, then he felt he had wasted his thirty-odd years of life.

"Oh, thank you for the kind invitation--"

Out of respect, Remus put down the documents in his hand and stood up. He thanked him again, but said with a face full of apology,

"But I'm sorry, Amelia, I..."

Remus racked his brains, then picked up the documents on the table and waved them at Amelia.

“You see, I can’t leave right now as the manager of the workshop. I have to explain the workshop’s products and our production and operation model to the reviewers in detail at the joint review meeting. You have no idea how much information I need to take notes on. Even after the review meeting is over, I still have to prepare supplementary information immediately depending on the review results, or immediately return to the UK to notify the workshop to increase production. I don’t have that much time.”

It was just a dinner, but Remus described it as if the Detts had invited him on a round-the-world trip.

Amelia's face turned even redder. She knew that Remus obviously didn't want to 'interfere,' so he came up with an excuse to refuse the invitation.

A slight resentment unconsciously welled up in Amelia's heart. Being able to get close to a great mage like Amosta Blaine, who possessed superb magical skills, and to ask him some questions was already more than enough for Amelia. As for becoming friends with Amosta Blaine, or having a closer relationship, that was simply not on her radar.

Mr. Blaine was not only embarrassed by his parents' invitation, but she herself also felt it was very abrupt. However, she could not refuse.

In her memory, her stern father and loving mother had never seriously asked her to do anything!

Amosta remained silent, not yet giving a reply.

It was just a dinner, nothing particularly significant, but Amosta was somewhat concerned about how to handle it if the Detts brought everything to the table and wanted to acknowledge him. Even if he had no such intention, Amosta wouldn't have chosen such a sensitive moment.

Voldemort knew that he had suddenly gained several weaknesses, so it was impossible for him not to take some action.

Du, du, du—

The sudden knock on the door eased the awkwardness between Amosta and Amelia. Through the mahogany door, Amosta could see the visitor.

"I'm very sorry to disturb your rest. May I ask if you are Mr. Amosta Blaine?"