Hogwarts: From Selling White Peppers to Becoming a God

Chapter 221 Turn over a new leaf and start anew

In the Bryansk region, a special train departing from Kosmo is speeding through the forest.

From the outside, it looks like an ordinary green passenger train, but its interior is as luxurious as a palace. The carriages and the bottom are equipped with heavy armor that can withstand bombs, and the windows are bulletproof. Even if it is directly attacked by rockets, the train will not derail.

In one of the carriages, there were several sofas. Chobagov was having a meal. He hadn't had a good appetite lately, so he ate simple food. There was only one dish on the table called "Alishchu," made with mutton, eggplant, peppers, and other ingredients. He ate a few bites and then put down his utensils.

Then he picked up a document from the table and started reading it, shaking his head as he did so.

Why is it like this?

I clearly want to save this country, but now everything seems to be heading in an out-of-control direction. The originally well-thought-out strategies, when implemented, are always exploited by those damned opportunists and distorted in unexpected ways.

He felt utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. Even though he was the leader of the world's second-largest political entity, he felt an overwhelming pressure that made it hard for him to breathe.

Two guards stood on each side of the carriage. Since the incident during his last vacation, he had replaced all the guards around him, and these four were also new faces. He looked at one of them, "Pavlov, where are we?"

"We've just passed Kaluga Oblast, and we'll be in Bryansk in two hours, Your Excellency President."

Chobagov looked out the window. On both sides were tall camphor and pine forests, and the sunlight shone through the trees, making the autumn scene seem somewhat desolate and gloomy.

Suddenly, he noticed something different.

It seemed to be a bird, a black raven, flying at the edge of the woods. Soon it got close to the train, almost touching the window.

The crow flew parallel to the train outside the window for a while, its black bean-like eyes seemingly staring at him, which surprised Chobagov.

But soon, the crow cawed once, then suddenly rose higher and disappeared from sight.

He glanced up curiously and saw dozens of crows take flight from different parts of the train and gather in the air. Just as he was stunned in surprise, a bright light flashed, like a spotlight, causing him to instinctively look away. When he looked again, the crows had disappeared without him noticing.

"This..." He almost thought he was seeing things.

But just then, Pavlov said, "Your Excellency, we are about to enter the tunnel."

In an instant, the train entered a tunnel, and it suddenly became dark outside the window. The air also seemed to suddenly get colder. He felt a slight discomfort in his eardrums and picked up a cocktail from the table and took a small sip.

"Pavlov, did you see that just now...?"

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly heard a strange voice say, "Nox!"

The bright lights in the carriage suddenly went out, plunging the carriage into complete darkness.

Chobagov was startled, but then Pavlov shouted, "It's a spell! Protect the president!"

But then a crimson light flashed in the darkness, and he collapsed unconscious!

The moment the light flashed, he saw Pavlov get hit and fall to the ground with a thud.

"Pavlov! Quick! Call reinforcements..."

"Avadakendawa!" A terrifying green flash appeared, and Chobagov saw a thin man holding a wooden stick, a sneer on his face, pointing it at his other guard, who was struck by the green light and fell backward before he could finish speaking.

"Great oak, spirits of the ancestors, I beg..." Chobagov recognized Sergei's voice, but suddenly it was as if someone had gagged him.

Then, there was another thud.

Suddenly, the lights came back on, and Chobagov, trembling, discovered that there were six more people in the carriage.

His guards had all been knocked to the ground.

The youngest man among them was incredibly handsome. Dressed in a black robe, he crouched down and glanced at the guard who had been struck by the green flash, then suddenly slapped another young man across the face.

"Why use the Killing Curse?"

"I'm sorry, Master..." The bloodthirsty smile on Barty Crouch's face vanished instantly. "I, I..."

"Itching for a fight, huh? Having a relapse?" The terrorist, who looked no more than twenty years old, glared at the man. "You killed him, how are you going to use the compound potion now? How can you achieve anything great if you can't control your desires!"

With a thud, the man knelt on the ground. "I'm sorry, Master... I... I was wrong..."

Murphy wanted to kick him, but this wasn't the time to establish rules. "You guys, hurry up and clean up the battlefield according to plan. And you, stop kneeling and pluck a few strands of his hair. He just died, so he might still have some residual energy."

After he finished speaking, he finally came to Chobagov.

The latter trembled all over, "You, who are you people? Who, who sent you? What do you want?"

But Murphy merely glanced at him, then shook his head. "Chobagov?"

"You're... British?!" Chobagov recognized his accent. "Do you want to start a world war?"

"A world war?" Murphy scoffed. "Because of you?"

That's truly pathetic.

"Someone! Someone!" Chobagov suddenly shouted.

"Don't waste your energy," Murphy said. He had already set a silencing spell on the carriage, so no sound could get out. "Don't worry, you won't die."

"What exactly do you want to do? What good will it do you to assassinate me now?" Chobagov questioned.

"Who wants to assassinate you? Don't you like being an actor? We're just borrowing your face."

Murphy raised his wand, saying, "Faint!"

Two minutes later, when the chef opened the carriage door again, he saw Gorbachev eating heartily from the food on his plate.

"Mr. President, you seem to have a good appetite today?" the chef said happily.

"Such a simple dish can be made so delicious," Valery Lermontov, who had been transformed into Gorbachev through a compound decoction, swept the last bit of meat from his plate into his mouth, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and smiled. "No wonder so many people want to be president."

"You're so funny." The chef chuckled as well. "What's making you so happy? Has something good happened?"

Valery pushed aside his plate, stood up, and looked out the window.

Sunlight filtered through the treetops, falling on his face, making him feel as if everything was still full of hope.

The chef inexplicably felt that the president seemed different today; he was sitting up straight and looked much younger.

"Yes, some good things have happened," Valery said.

"And in the future, even more good things will happen."

"Until all the sinners who wanted to bury this country alive have repented and started anew."

(End of this chapter)