Chapter 684
·
Nan Shan Dou Xi
Compared with the British singing and dancing, in some parts of the world, it has become a scorched earth.
Death pervades the estate, with flames lighting up the 300-year-old home.
In front of the fire, Barty Jr. was silent.
"Captain Crouch, he has something to say."
Aurors dragging a bound saint over.
Barty Jr. waved his wand, and the saint regained the ability to speak.
This is a witch, her face is stained with dust, but she can be seen to be pretty.
She looked at the fire and roared heart-piercingly: "My brother, my brother is still there!"
"He's innocent, he's just bewitched by me, he just turned 11!"
The female saint shouted hoarsely, hoping that this cold-blooded and ruthless man would raise his hand.
"So... are you willing to die for him?"
Little Barty looked at the female saint, with a bone-chilling chill in his voice.
"Of course!" The female saint replied without hesitation.
Little Barty squatted down slowly, looking at the beautiful face of the female saint.
He stretched out his hand to brush the female saint's long hair, and said in a hoarse voice, "Then why did you make him a saint?"
"I..." The female saint's voice was stuck in her throat.
Because she saw the merciless eyes of the person in front of her.
"You killed him," Barty Jr.'s voice sounded like a demon. "You made him the most damned guy in the world. You killed my sympathy for him."
"It was you, you killed him, your dear brother, he writhed in the flames, you'd see his skin burned off, you'd see his body, maybe curled up in a corner somewhere, or a fireplace Or maybe under the bed."
The female saint screamed: "No! You can't do this, he is still a child!"
"He's not a kid, did you forget? You turned him into a damned little brute!"
Little Barty grabbed the female saint by her hair and dragged her to the house sealed by flames.
Pull her up forcefully and let her watch her family howling in the fire.
"You don't care about the consequences, and you do whatever you want, all of which will be fulfilled in your family!"
"He was supposed to go to the magic school next year, enjoying favorable conditions, no disasters and no difficulties, the king's kindness will shine on him, and he will get everything he deserves!"
"It's you!"
"You ruined him! You ruined this family! You ruined this world!"
Visible to the naked eye on Barty Jr.'s face, he flicked vigorously, causing the already frightened saint to come into intimate contact with the ground.
Little Barty stepped on her head with his foot, and said in a cold voice: "When you become a saint, all of this will be destroyed because of you."
"Like the families you hurt."
He kicked kick after kick on the head of the female saint.
"elder sister!"
The female saint's nose was broken, and she looked up with difficulty.
The burning brother was lying in front, only less than ten meters away from the door.
His body was scorched black, but he struggled to crawl over.
The flames engulfed him completely.
"Do not--!"
That is more painful than death.
The female saint regretted it, and regretted that her brain became hot.
I regret my so-called ideal.
She has a perfect family, surviving parents, and a pestering younger brother.
This moment, with the flame, no, with the moment of her sainthood, is destroyed.
After little Barty finished everything, he looked at the Aurors calmly and said, "Don't let her die, she needs to tell everything."
"I don't mind if she's sober or crazy." His words have told everyone the ending of the female saint.
The flame dies down as the combustibles disappear.
Little Barty stood there quietly, looking at the dead family of three.
There was a little wavering in his eyes.
"Once upon a time, I also had such a family."
Stupid choice to let mother die in Azkaban.
His father died at that so-called ideal sacrifice.
...
Barty Jr. hit so hard that even John received complaints.
Slovakia's Minister of Magic slapped the table and roared about Barty Jr.'s crimes.
"That's a kid, 11 years old!" he said angrily. "He was supposed to go to magic school next year, but he was burned alive in the house, with his parents!"
Representatives from various countries also complained, saying that children are innocent.
John swept over flatly, and the voices of those whispers disappeared.
Looking at the angry Slovak Minister of Magic, John said lightly: "So you think that an 11-year-old saint should be pardoned?"
"Yes, Your Excellency Wick!" The Minister of Magic said in a very aggressive tone.
John wasn't angry either, he just said, "11 years old."
"He will enter one of the three magic schools in Europe with that so-called ideal next year."
"It could be Hogwarts, it could be Durmstrang, or it could be Beauxbatons."
His voice was neither soft nor heavy, but it made everyone listen attentively.
"He will influence those innocent little wizards, let them listen to those ideals, the future world, and the harm of Muggles."
"He'll grow up, plant a seed in his heart, he'll know what to do with a wizard, use his wand to cast a crushing spell on the young wizard's back, he doesn't even need a wand, he can sneak in at dinnertime Take a fork or a knife and wait until his roommates, other people's children are asleep, and gently scratch it across the neck."
John's tone of voice remained unchanged from beginning to end.
But it makes people gradually become colder.
"The saints are a bunch of lunatics," John looked at the Slovak Minister of Magic, "Should an 11-year-old lunatic be exempt from sanctions?"
At this time, the Minister of Magic of Slovakia could no longer be tough. His voice lowered a lot, and he said, "We should give him a chance."
"Opportunity?" John sighed, "Did your opportunity come from countless families and dead little wizards in the attack of the saints? Or was it just your sudden compassion?"
The Slovak Minister of Magic fell silent.
John looked at the others: "Everyone, I am not a person who likes to kill, but under the killing, those innocent wizards can get peace."
"So I can appreciate the sympathy you have for the little saint."
"Our world is on the verge of collapse, and in front of us is a single-plank bridge with no way out."
"Those wicked people are selfish. If we don't let them see our determination, then these people will get away with it."
He glanced at some people who bowed their heads.
"After all, some absurd and clumsy lies in the past have become the escape reason for criminals who killed their lives."
He was talking about Voldemort's time, when it was so absurd that the Ministry of Magic could buy indulgences with gold.
If those people were not completely eradicated, they would reappear ten years later to create momentum for their Dark Lord.
John knocked on the table for everyone to look at.
He stood up and said, "Put away your kindness and show it to the person you should show it to."
"I can give you, no, give your kindness a chance."
He said lightly: "Those who have joined the saints, as long as they can provide enough information and there is no murder case on them, I can give them lenient treatment."
"However, they need to accept the punishment, leave a life, or die, you go back and convey it to those people."
John left the table and walked out.
Percy glanced at everyone and got up to leave.
Charles Roland hurried to catch up, "Wait, Lord Wick, can you prove that you are controlled by the Imperius Curse?"
"Your Excellency Wick is right," German Minister of Magic Gresham said in a deep voice, "Our kindness is given to those in need, those simple villains, let them be burned to ashes in the fire."
He got up to leave, glanced at Yalefan, and walked out.
Members of the International Federation of Wizards left one after another.
They all saw the determination of this leader.
Mercy goes to those in need.
Like John Wick, leave mercy to wizards.
Yalevan was the last of the few to leave.
He looked at the seat.
If it was Dumbledore, he would never say that.
He'll let that kid into school.
Instead of letting his family become corpses.
But what about after?
"He's not kind, but he's right." Yalefan exhaled heavily.
He got up and left.
The wizarding world doesn't need benevolent leaders, what they need are leaders who lead them on the right path.
Dumbledore couldn't do that.
Only John Wick could.
Yalefan gave up the little rebellion in his heart.
...
Lucius was excited.
Because he learned the inside information in advance.
The Quidditch Committee will adopt the league system.
It also means that the three Quidditch clubs that I have acquired will get the greatest development.
And John also told him a news.
The British Wizarding League will elect a powerful person in charge, and the nomination of this person in charge will depend on Lucius himself.
As long as he managed the Department of Magical Sports and Sports, the League Club and the Quidditch Committee, he could get the position.
That basically tells him that he's going to be in charge.
Who doesn't know that Bagman has to save face for himself, and Mentor of the Quidditch committee will definitely look at the second king's face.
League club?
Go speak to the Old Alliance yourself.
The position is stable!
...
Death pervades the estate, with flames lighting up the 300-year-old home.
In front of the fire, Barty Jr. was silent.
"Captain Crouch, he has something to say."
Aurors dragging a bound saint over.
Barty Jr. waved his wand, and the saint regained the ability to speak.
This is a witch, her face is stained with dust, but she can be seen to be pretty.
She looked at the fire and roared heart-piercingly: "My brother, my brother is still there!"
"He's innocent, he's just bewitched by me, he just turned 11!"
The female saint shouted hoarsely, hoping that this cold-blooded and ruthless man would raise his hand.
"So... are you willing to die for him?"
Little Barty looked at the female saint, with a bone-chilling chill in his voice.
"Of course!" The female saint replied without hesitation.
Little Barty squatted down slowly, looking at the beautiful face of the female saint.
He stretched out his hand to brush the female saint's long hair, and said in a hoarse voice, "Then why did you make him a saint?"
"I..." The female saint's voice was stuck in her throat.
Because she saw the merciless eyes of the person in front of her.
"You killed him," Barty Jr.'s voice sounded like a demon. "You made him the most damned guy in the world. You killed my sympathy for him."
"It was you, you killed him, your dear brother, he writhed in the flames, you'd see his skin burned off, you'd see his body, maybe curled up in a corner somewhere, or a fireplace Or maybe under the bed."
The female saint screamed: "No! You can't do this, he is still a child!"
"He's not a kid, did you forget? You turned him into a damned little brute!"
Little Barty grabbed the female saint by her hair and dragged her to the house sealed by flames.
Pull her up forcefully and let her watch her family howling in the fire.
"You don't care about the consequences, and you do whatever you want, all of which will be fulfilled in your family!"
"He was supposed to go to the magic school next year, enjoying favorable conditions, no disasters and no difficulties, the king's kindness will shine on him, and he will get everything he deserves!"
"It's you!"
"You ruined him! You ruined this family! You ruined this world!"
Visible to the naked eye on Barty Jr.'s face, he flicked vigorously, causing the already frightened saint to come into intimate contact with the ground.
Little Barty stepped on her head with his foot, and said in a cold voice: "When you become a saint, all of this will be destroyed because of you."
"Like the families you hurt."
He kicked kick after kick on the head of the female saint.
"elder sister!"
The female saint's nose was broken, and she looked up with difficulty.
The burning brother was lying in front, only less than ten meters away from the door.
His body was scorched black, but he struggled to crawl over.
The flames engulfed him completely.
"Do not--!"
That is more painful than death.
The female saint regretted it, and regretted that her brain became hot.
I regret my so-called ideal.
She has a perfect family, surviving parents, and a pestering younger brother.
This moment, with the flame, no, with the moment of her sainthood, is destroyed.
After little Barty finished everything, he looked at the Aurors calmly and said, "Don't let her die, she needs to tell everything."
"I don't mind if she's sober or crazy." His words have told everyone the ending of the female saint.
The flame dies down as the combustibles disappear.
Little Barty stood there quietly, looking at the dead family of three.
There was a little wavering in his eyes.
"Once upon a time, I also had such a family."
Stupid choice to let mother die in Azkaban.
His father died at that so-called ideal sacrifice.
...
Barty Jr. hit so hard that even John received complaints.
Slovakia's Minister of Magic slapped the table and roared about Barty Jr.'s crimes.
"That's a kid, 11 years old!" he said angrily. "He was supposed to go to magic school next year, but he was burned alive in the house, with his parents!"
Representatives from various countries also complained, saying that children are innocent.
John swept over flatly, and the voices of those whispers disappeared.
Looking at the angry Slovak Minister of Magic, John said lightly: "So you think that an 11-year-old saint should be pardoned?"
"Yes, Your Excellency Wick!" The Minister of Magic said in a very aggressive tone.
John wasn't angry either, he just said, "11 years old."
"He will enter one of the three magic schools in Europe with that so-called ideal next year."
"It could be Hogwarts, it could be Durmstrang, or it could be Beauxbatons."
His voice was neither soft nor heavy, but it made everyone listen attentively.
"He will influence those innocent little wizards, let them listen to those ideals, the future world, and the harm of Muggles."
"He'll grow up, plant a seed in his heart, he'll know what to do with a wizard, use his wand to cast a crushing spell on the young wizard's back, he doesn't even need a wand, he can sneak in at dinnertime Take a fork or a knife and wait until his roommates, other people's children are asleep, and gently scratch it across the neck."
John's tone of voice remained unchanged from beginning to end.
But it makes people gradually become colder.
"The saints are a bunch of lunatics," John looked at the Slovak Minister of Magic, "Should an 11-year-old lunatic be exempt from sanctions?"
At this time, the Minister of Magic of Slovakia could no longer be tough. His voice lowered a lot, and he said, "We should give him a chance."
"Opportunity?" John sighed, "Did your opportunity come from countless families and dead little wizards in the attack of the saints? Or was it just your sudden compassion?"
The Slovak Minister of Magic fell silent.
John looked at the others: "Everyone, I am not a person who likes to kill, but under the killing, those innocent wizards can get peace."
"So I can appreciate the sympathy you have for the little saint."
"Our world is on the verge of collapse, and in front of us is a single-plank bridge with no way out."
"Those wicked people are selfish. If we don't let them see our determination, then these people will get away with it."
He glanced at some people who bowed their heads.
"After all, some absurd and clumsy lies in the past have become the escape reason for criminals who killed their lives."
He was talking about Voldemort's time, when it was so absurd that the Ministry of Magic could buy indulgences with gold.
If those people were not completely eradicated, they would reappear ten years later to create momentum for their Dark Lord.
John knocked on the table for everyone to look at.
He stood up and said, "Put away your kindness and show it to the person you should show it to."
"I can give you, no, give your kindness a chance."
He said lightly: "Those who have joined the saints, as long as they can provide enough information and there is no murder case on them, I can give them lenient treatment."
"However, they need to accept the punishment, leave a life, or die, you go back and convey it to those people."
John left the table and walked out.
Percy glanced at everyone and got up to leave.
Charles Roland hurried to catch up, "Wait, Lord Wick, can you prove that you are controlled by the Imperius Curse?"
"Your Excellency Wick is right," German Minister of Magic Gresham said in a deep voice, "Our kindness is given to those in need, those simple villains, let them be burned to ashes in the fire."
He got up to leave, glanced at Yalefan, and walked out.
Members of the International Federation of Wizards left one after another.
They all saw the determination of this leader.
Mercy goes to those in need.
Like John Wick, leave mercy to wizards.
Yalevan was the last of the few to leave.
He looked at the seat.
If it was Dumbledore, he would never say that.
He'll let that kid into school.
Instead of letting his family become corpses.
But what about after?
"He's not kind, but he's right." Yalefan exhaled heavily.
He got up and left.
The wizarding world doesn't need benevolent leaders, what they need are leaders who lead them on the right path.
Dumbledore couldn't do that.
Only John Wick could.
Yalefan gave up the little rebellion in his heart.
...
Lucius was excited.
Because he learned the inside information in advance.
The Quidditch Committee will adopt the league system.
It also means that the three Quidditch clubs that I have acquired will get the greatest development.
And John also told him a news.
The British Wizarding League will elect a powerful person in charge, and the nomination of this person in charge will depend on Lucius himself.
As long as he managed the Department of Magical Sports and Sports, the League Club and the Quidditch Committee, he could get the position.
That basically tells him that he's going to be in charge.
Who doesn't know that Bagman has to save face for himself, and Mentor of the Quidditch committee will definitely look at the second king's face.
League club?
Go speak to the Old Alliance yourself.
The position is stable!
...
