Chapter 662 Comfort

The wizards rioted. They looked at the gold coins in Scrimgeour's hand in horror, as if they were looking at some terrifying existence.

An item that belonged to Voldemort? !

For the wizards of the Corrupt Kingdom, anything belonging to Voldemort is taboo.

"This is not just one thing!" Scrimgeour's voice was low and full of majesty. His eyes scanned the crowd, "There are many people here who have this item! Think about it, if there are people around you For such a person, holding the badge of a mysterious person, the Apparition qualification certificate you spent many years to acquire will be wasted!"

Many wizards showed panic expressions.

Scrimgeour felt that his words might have been listened to by these daring guys, and he continued to threaten, "Think about it, how many times have you separated from your body in order to successfully obtain the qualification certificate! How many times have you crashed into the wall! How many times have you been separated from your body! It was dug out of the ground by Ministry of Magic staff for the first time!"

Some wizards showed unbearable expressions.

"Do you still want what happened before to be trapped in the arena and unable to leave?" Scrimgeour asked, "If you don't want to, help us find those who brought uncontrollable gold coins!"

"I remember you had a piece! You even showed it off to me before the competition! Great! Why did I fail to disapparate when I kissed you! It turns out it's all you bastard!!!"

Screams and scuffles sounded, and a red-nosed wizard rode on another wizard wearing a brown scarf, Ola Ola Ola——

Crazy output.

Seeing their actions, the other wizards' eyes became unkind. They looked at their companions around them warily and unconsciously distanced themselves from them.

"I know you don't dare to hand over those gold coins in public." Scrimgeour lowered his voice, clasping his hands behind his back, pacing left and right, like a majestic lion patrolling his territory, "Some people even think, In the future, you can use this gold coin to interfere with those Death Eaters, catch them, and get honors."

The wizards rioted. Apparently, some people did think so.

"But have you ever thought about a question!" Scrimgeour raised his voice, "This thing was made by Voldemort! Doesn't he have any countermeasures?"

The wizards were stunned for a moment, and finally their minds could move. Then they thought about it, hey, it seems like this is really the case?

"It only took the Aurors less than half an hour to crack Voldemort's conspiracy." Scrimgeour did not hesitate to give tonight's honor to the Aurors. "Who knew what Voldemort would do next? What kind of more terrifying attack plan can be formulated based on this? Now, do you still think those gold coins are life-saving items?"

He stared at everyone, his deep eyes could see through everyone's little thoughts.

The wizards began to hesitate.

Although Voldemort's things looked very good, maybe there was something hidden inside that they didn't know about?

Thinking of this, many wizards hesitantly walked out of the crowd and handed over the gold coins they had under the angry gazes of others.

These people may also be a little depressed. Hasn't Voldemort's badge been cracked by the leprechaun's gold coins? Why am I still unable to apparate?

What they didn't know was that Robert deliberately lowered the impact of the leprechaun's gold coins. As long as they were still wearing Voldemort's badge, there was a high probability that those wizards would not be able to leave the arena.

This is a lesson to these brainless guys.

And Scrimgeour was indeed a great man of his generation. As an experienced Auror, even though he had never met Robert and only heard a few words from Black, he quickly realized that there was definitely something fishy about the wizards who stayed behind.

This was the fundamental reason why he blocked the gate and refused to let these people leave.

But it's never good to push too hard.

"Those who hand over their badges will receive a glass of rum on the rocks." Scrimgeour's deputy stepped forward and said to everyone, "The Ministry of Magic wishes everyone a good sleep tonight."

I won’t sleep peacefully at all!

The wizards thought in their hearts that a cup of rum for one gold coin was simply more vampire than the owner of the tavern.

Robert and the others stopped paying attention to what happened after the game, and they no longer had the energy to pay attention.

The Ministry of Magic still had too few manpower. Most of the Aurors were blocked at the entrance of the arena with Scrimgeour, and only a few worked overtime to patrol around the camp.

"Arthur, are you free tonight? Come and help us. It's such a mess outside. We really can't hold on any longer!" An Auror with bloodshot eyes and black eyes opened the door and walked away. He came in, grabbed Mr. Weasley's hand, and didn't let go, "I haven't slept for five days! Merlin! If I had known that the Quidditch match was such a mind-consuming thing, I would have sacrificed my life Opposing Bagman's request will never give him the chance to host the Quidditch World Cup in a corrupt country."

The Auror muttered to himself, and was about to develop into a talkative person.

No, he is already a chatterbox.

Mr. Weasley took the man to the drawing room aside, wanting to hear what he had to say to him.

Mrs. Weasley went and poured him a glass of whiskey, feeling that it might give him some comfort.

However, Mr. Auror did not touch the glass. In fact, he gave the impression that his eyes were straight and unsquinting, and there was nothing else in his eyes except Mr. Weasley.

"I feel like I have finished talking about the next ten years in the past few days, but I can't help but not to talk." The Auror was still thinking, "If I don't talk, I will feel sleepy. Only talking, I was able to concentrate a little bit, but you know, Arthur, when you're sleepy, you can't help but talk and talk, I mean, you can't stop."

Mr. Weasley feels a little cramped in his face. It's not that you can't stop anymore, but you have given up on treatment.

"To be honest, I don't want to either. I really don't want to talk, but I really can't control how much I'm sending!" The Auror was already slurring his words. "But as soon as I return to the tent, someone will suddenly pop out. , shouted loudly, Huade! Get up quickly! A brat has set the tent on fire! You need to put out the fire immediately!"

As he spoke, his voice rose an octave and he jumped up from his seat, nearly making Mr. Weasley stagger.

Mrs. Weasley's expression was also a little chapped. What happened to this guy? Why do you keep dragging your husband to talk? Don't you have something urgent? Can't you just go out and say it?

She opened her mouth, looked at Mr. Weasley again, and finally decided to leave everything to her husband.