A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

Celeste felt she had gone too far once again. She walked over to Cecil and forced out a sentence through gritted teeth: "Where are our men?"

“They were lured away by the Reformation members, and when they returned, the attack was over. They’re going out now to try their luck and see if they can find anyone, but there’s no news yet,” Cecil said.

“Bring these idiots back! What’s the point of arresting them now? They’ve all delivered themselves to our doorstep,” Celeste said angrily. She felt as if legs had grown on her chair in her Woolworth Building office, wings had sprouted on her hat, and everything seemed to have left her.

“Sorry, I can’t get in touch with you,” Cecil said with a shrug.

"Look outside! Someone's here again!" a short reporter said.

"The minister is here?" a reporter next to him asked.

"...More Black-Robed Army!" The short reporter couldn't wait to give Yuria and her group a new name for tomorrow's front page headline.

No, it's tonight's headline!

A dozen reporters rushed out carrying black cameras. Amid their excited expressions, dozens of black-robed wizards appeared at the Busles Hotel. They wore masks, remained silent, and walked in perfect unison, a sight that particularly attracted the reporters' attention.

Maxwell asked, "Director, what should we do?"

Moore looked up at the sky, intently studying the shape of a cloud, as if it held some great discovery. Thus, under the watchful eyes of the French Ministry of Magic staff, the students of Ilfamoni entered the courtyard without any hindrance.

Yuria and Byers stared blankly at their arrogant companion, still not coming to their senses even as the companion walked right up to them.

"Why are you here? Didn't we tell you to leave? All you had to do was write a letter..."

"Hey, Yuria, we've finished our mission, but before we left, we thought it wouldn't be right to miss out on this fun," a passionate voice said.

“Matt…” Yuria said softly.

"It's me." The wizard who spoke lifted his mask, revealing a bright smile.

“And me, Euryale.” A witch with a ponytail lifted her mask and winked at him.

"Haha, we can't just slink away like this." A cheerful wizard laughed and lifted his mask.

“That’s right, Zachlee is right, I’m not willing to leave like this either.”

"What a coincidence, I thought so too."

……

One by one, the black-robed wizards removed their masks. They were men and women, tall and short, fat and thin, but all exuded youthful energy.

Celeste was completely dumbfounded when she saw this, her lips moving silently, her expression blank.

Not only her, but Moore, Cecil, Maxwell, Boubagi, the journalists, the Muggle research experts—everyone present was stunned by the scene.

After a brief pause, the hotel courtyard erupted in excitement, the clicking of camera shutters creating a cacophony like the buzzing of bees.

Owls streak across the sky above Paris.

Faced with this situation, even a lowly director of the law enforcement department couldn't handle it.

The French Minister of Magic arrived first, but he too found the situation troublesome. Hesitating between arresting and not arresting, just then, figures appeared through Apparition.

"American!"

The French Minister of Magic said in surprise.

A woman strode over. "Hello, Minister, I've come to speak with you on behalf of Chairman Marcus. He'll be a little later, as you know, to appease Congress..."

"You've received the message?"

The woman said helplessly, "This is also part of the communication. My God, they really are incredibly resourceful."

"We were among the first to use the stored portal keys and Apparition. More wizards and civilians who are closely monitoring this matter may follow later..."

Her words were somewhat conservative; it was definitely not just "some" enthusiastic people.

Three or four hours later, the people who had heard the news arrived filled almost half of the valley.

The French Minister of Magic urgently redeployed one-third of his staff to take over security in the area surrounding the hotel.

Vacations were canceled, slacking off was forbidden, and everyone had to work overtime. Various concealment and protective spells rained down, and the Busles Hotel temporarily disappeared from the sight of ordinary people.

Felix stood silently in the corner, observing, unsure how things would ultimately turn out. But the girl named Besni, and the group of young people leading her, would likely be etched in history.

Even though he was just an outsider, he looked forward to more 'groundbreaking' solutions.

Important figures kept coming over.

The president of the Magical Congress of the United States, the headmaster of Ivermony School, a member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and a familiar figure, Albus Dumbledore, the president of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Dumbledore, you've arrived too." Markus, the president of the Magical Congress of the United States, strode forward to greet him.

“Marcus, I had to come. The commotion has even reached my unreliable ears, which shows how big the impact of the situation is.”

"No one expected... that the lawmakers were furious and wanted to punish the students severely."

"What should we do? Put them in jail?" Dumbledore's expression was very serious, and his silver beard trembled. "Excuse my bluntness, Markus, any action you take now will affect the future years or decades from now, and will ultimately have a direct impact on you. No one can escape it."

"Yes, I just looked into it. They did break the law, but it wasn't particularly serious. The most crucial thing is that the impact is enormous. If it's not handled properly, by next Monday at the latest, these people outside could flood into Woolworth Building and overturn the entire Magic Congress!"

“Look, Dumbledore, there are nearly a thousand people outside.”

Felix didn't listen closely. He walked out of the hotel and looked at the crowd that was still gathering, more than half of whom were American visitors.

With these enthusiastic people around, the important figures probably won't be able to leave the hotel until a conclusion is reached.

A French worker maintaining order said with dissatisfaction, "Actually, they can all be considered illegal immigrants... but at this critical juncture, nobody cares."

"But I hope those Americans will be severely punished afterwards!"

……

Felix stood on a small hill, gazing at the hotel in the distance. The view of the surging crowd from this angle offered a unique sense of detachment, which made his thinking more rational.

Ministry of Magic...ordinary wizards...students...

He gained a completely new understanding of the organizational structure of the magical world.

A person nearby chimed in, "I never thought I'd see something like this in my lifetime."

Felix had noticed someone approaching long ago. He turned around and saw an old man shuffling over with small, trembling steps. His face was very pale, as if it had been painted with white paint. It was hard to tell whether his hair or his face was paler.

He hurried over and took his arm.

"Ouch!" the old man cried out in pain.

"Uh, please forgive me?" Felix looked at him, puzzled.

"It's alright, people get old and their bones become a bit brittle."

Felix looked at him strangely, wondering whether he should suggest that he take some calcium supplements.

Speaking of which, do calcium supplements work for wizards?

Chapter 169 Nicholas Lemai?

The old man would catch his breath after saying just a few words, and a faint humming sound would come from his nostrils.

“You don’t look too well, yet you’re here to join in the fun?” Felix gave him an admiring glance.

“I live nearby, otherwise I wouldn’t have come. I can’t stand the torment of Apparition.”

The old man waved his hand, and his arm made a crisp "click" sound.

Felix suddenly felt a soreness in his teeth. He grimaced and instinctively stretched out his arms.

A commotion arose in the distance as a grumpy wizard launched fireworks into the hotel, an act that inspired many imitators.

Both of them showed expressions of great interest.

“Isn’t it interesting?” the old man said cheerfully.

“Indeed, I like the design of that Thunderbird,” Felix said. “I guess it might be from the Thunderbird Academy in Iphamoni.”

The old man's gaze followed the firework that looked like an eagle, and he said with some emotion, "I haven't traveled much these past few years, but now I want to travel more and see the world."

There are always new things to discover outside.

The old man initially agreed, but then shook his head and said, "People may be different, but the things that happen are always similar."

Felix said, "Really? I think everything I've experienced is unique."

The old man laughed heartily twice. “The vigor that belongs to the young is the habit of defining the world with their own eyes. But I’m old now, and the old prefer to use various rules as a bond to embed myself in a place in the world.”

"rule?"

"It's really just some principles of self-discipline. After experiencing certain people and events, you tell yourself what you can or cannot do, and then strictly abide by them. It's a bit like signing a magic contract, but the contract is with your future self."

“What’s the point of this?” Felix asked.

“I’m not sure,” the old man replied, “but at least it keeps me in a good mood.”

"By restricting oneself?"

"This is the philosophy of survival I've gained from living a long life," the old man said.

Felix did not approve of this approach; he disliked being restricted and constrained, especially by setting limits for himself.

The old man trembled as he rummaged through his pockets, and after about half a minute, he finally pulled out a brass pocket watch.

"Click." The pocket watch popped open, revealing a clock face on one side and a photograph on the other.

The photo shows a young couple.

The old man murmured, "Her name was Perenaar, my wife. We met when we were in school in Beauxbatons. She was a good girl, three years older than me. I still remember the first time I saw her. In a field of flowers, I spotted her at a glance..."

Felix blinked. "I can tell you're very happy in your marriage."

“Yes, yes…” His voice was barely audible.

For a while, neither of them spoke, and the fireworks display in the distance had been stopped by the Ministry of Magic staff.

"Do you think they'll reach an agreement?" Felix changed the subject.

“To be honest, I think it’s difficult. I’ve dealt with these people before… The American magical community has suffered greatly under the Secrets Act and won’t compromise easily,” the old man said. “They are very stubborn on this issue.”

Felix said optimistically, "There will always be someone who forces them to change their minds. If not this time, there will be a next time. Their opponents are still young."

“That makes sense, these little guys have a natural advantage.”

……

"I'm leaving."