Chapter 747 The seeds of Grindelwald, the war begins
·
Nan Shan Dou Xi
This is an act of 'justice' that doesn't need to be told to everyone.
In that magnificent white palace, the five horns are like sharp swords, releasing the coercion of a powerful country to the outside all the time.
"Should we turn it on?"
When a minister who decides the start of this war hears the question.
He smiled.
"This is the war they started first."
"And we..." He paused slightly, looked at the black man, his tone was filled with arrogance and contempt for uncivilized wizards, "We are justice."
justice?
The magic world is hidden in this world, and in the eyes of the minister, they are like those sewer rats.
The same is shameful.
Being able to sit in this position, he clearly knows what those wizards do.
"This is an invasion of a country." The black man wanted him to reconsider, he said in a deep voice, "We don't know anything about him."
But such a tone made the minister sneer.
"You know, those guys just have some tricks like magic," the minister moved his fingers, "boom!"
"A city destroyed."
"It's our little trick."
"Country? Whose country? Wizard?" The minister shook his head and said, "Do they have a country?"
Yeah, do wizards have a country?
They exist in various countries, are they citizens of various countries?
No, no.
They are not children of America.
Like Mycroft said, no wizard ever goes to the police.
They have their own laws, and no country likes such a group of people doing their own thing in their own country like a colony.
"They're a bunch of thieves, they're stealing our land, our resources."
"Do you have any idea how big the land suddenly appeared in Poland?" said the Minister. "They stole some land in America, they stole some land in England, they stole some land in Germany."
"They're thieves, and I don't recall the government allowing them to set up a so-called Magical Congress under our building."
The black man listened, and seemed to think of something.
Seeing this guy with great power, his eyes flickered.
Without their own land, even if they blend in and hide among the crowd, they are just a group of smugglers.
The minister's attitude made him understand that even smugglers between countries will be deported, let alone people from different races.
The minister leaves.
He carried a war order to be waged.
This time it was Muggle arrogance.
They confidently felt that only a few planes and some soldiers were needed to silence those so-called wizards.
Purple gold is beckoning to them.
And the whole world will completely follow the guidance of the lighthouse.
"Pierce," said the Minister, after hugging a blond man and whispering something in each other's ears, "I think we're going to be 'rich'."
"It's great, enough energy, it's mouth-watering." The man wearing glasses named Pierce smiled at him.
"About the World Security Council," the minister smiled, "I think you are the most suitable successor."
Pierce smiled, "Thank you."
The two shook hands, tacit understanding of each other.
The seeds that Grindelwald planted in the Muggle world have taken root in the most powerful countries.
It's contempt for war, arrogance for wizards.
And people like them are doing the same thing in those big countries.
...
United Kingdom.
The prime minister was subjected to something similar to forced palace.
"I am under huge pressure."
The Prime Minister ran his hair tousled with his fingers and buried his pomaded palms on his face.
Mycroft understood what the Prime Minister meant.
Is it to share a share with the lighthouse, or to stand still?
This is a very difficult thing.
"We don't know [-]% of wizards," Mycroft kept calm and elegant all the time. "In today's information age, this is a fatal mistake."
"I know, but some people are jealous of that." The Prime Minister complained, "You know, the temptation is too great."
"With all due respect, Mr. Prime Minister," Mycroft approached the Prime Minister slowly, bent down, and whispered in his ear, "Do you really think this place is 'clean'?"
The Prime Minister was taken aback for a moment, and then his expression turned serious.
Mycroft observed these subtle changes carefully.
He glanced casually at the British Royal Guard ornaments that were used as ornaments, "I cleaned the room some time ago, sometimes without cleaning, you don't know that there is a lot of dust in the house."
"Those bugs, they can always show up in the room when you're not paying attention."
"It's a headache."
The prime minister's face darkened, and with his messy hair on his head, he said in a deep voice, "Then you should know where to clean in order to find out."
Mycroft stretched out his hand, stroked it in front of the Prime Minister's desk, rubbed his fingers, and said, "More often, we are not careful."
Seeing this action, the prime minister looked very ugly.
In my office, there are those bugs.
He looked up at Mycroft, how the minister understood.
Mycroft smiled and got up, walked to the guard on the bookshelf, knocked down the guard as if by accident, and asked suddenly: "I remember you like the Bible, Mr. Prime Minister?"
"Yes, I go to church on my days off."
Hearing what he said, Mycroft took out a Bible, put it on the table and slowly pushed it over.
"I like a sentence very much," he put his hand on the Bible, nodded and pushed it to the prime minister, and said meaningfully, "the way of salvation lies in it."
Mycroft turned and was about to leave, the Prime Minister slowly opened the book.
A CD is there.
He closed it without changing his expression.
Looks like the war on wizards is going to be put aside.
The real war is inside.
After returning home, the Prime Minister rummaged around, and after confirming that there was no monitoring equipment, he put the CD into the drive.
As the disc rotates in the computer.
The prime minister understood that this was the position of McCaw, and it was also a signal that he did not want to start a war.
After becoming Prime Minister, he never knew that there were far more problems inside than outside.
...
It rains a lot in London.
The rain splashed on the umbrella surface.
Two black umbrellas stood in front of the station.
"Are you proving to me, Watson?" Mycroft calmly looked at some passing passers-by nearby, "How much do you know about the list that even the government doesn't know?"
Under the umbrella next to him, Watson took a sip from a bottle of soda with a straw in his hand. He shrugged and said, "Some business matters, they are more willing to tell their financial managers."
"Every year they have more than one billion pounds flowing to foreign countries, and then flowing back from outside," Watson said with the bottom of the glass bottle in his hand, "It takes half a minute for me to explain to you, but this money only needs In 20 seconds it can be turned into legal currency into the pockets of those people."
"This is a huge chain of interests," Mycroft turned to look at Watson and asked, "For you, it's best to have it in your hands."
"Mycroft, do you know why I like dealing with you?" Watson put the bottle in his pocket with one hand, "Because you know how much I value my family."
"For you, that may be a big excuse, but for me, it's just to make my son less enemies."
Following Watson's movements, the pedestrians around stopped.
Watson walked forward, "I welcome you to dine at the Continental Hotel at any time. There is a neon chef with excellent skills in London."
He walked into the crowd, and the reactivated crowd made him disappear.
Mycroft watched the crowd disappear, unable to tell which ones belonged to the hotel.
"Family?"
Thinking of his younger brother, Mycroft suddenly had a feeling of empathy with Watson.
No matter when and where, family members are the weakness of people like them.
"Offend these people, and you will be in a difficult position, Watson."
McCoff turned and left, he still needs to clean up for the government.
Unpredictable intentions have never been the cleaning standard for people like them.
Whether it is useful to oneself is the question.
The United States, worried that others will enjoy the fruits of victory, can't wait to let itself sail to the ocean.
The unknown fruit, is it a forbidden fruit or a poisoned apple.
It depends on the strength that the wizard can show.
"John Wick."
McCoff wanted to know what kind of person this underground president was, the son he wanted to protect at the expense of giving away a huge profit chain.
What kind of status should it be among wizards?
...
An island in the Atlantic Ocean.
It was crowned with the name of the magic crystal mine.
Sitting cross-legged on the shore, Neville opened a lunch box.
There were three Big Mac sandwiches inside. With a happy smile on his face, he picked up a sandwich and put it in his mouth to take a bite.
Looking up, warships appeared on the coastline.
This place does not belong to any country, which means.
Warships from any country can come here.
Neville ate the sandwich in two bites, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
...
In that magnificent white palace, the five horns are like sharp swords, releasing the coercion of a powerful country to the outside all the time.
"Should we turn it on?"
When a minister who decides the start of this war hears the question.
He smiled.
"This is the war they started first."
"And we..." He paused slightly, looked at the black man, his tone was filled with arrogance and contempt for uncivilized wizards, "We are justice."
justice?
The magic world is hidden in this world, and in the eyes of the minister, they are like those sewer rats.
The same is shameful.
Being able to sit in this position, he clearly knows what those wizards do.
"This is an invasion of a country." The black man wanted him to reconsider, he said in a deep voice, "We don't know anything about him."
But such a tone made the minister sneer.
"You know, those guys just have some tricks like magic," the minister moved his fingers, "boom!"
"A city destroyed."
"It's our little trick."
"Country? Whose country? Wizard?" The minister shook his head and said, "Do they have a country?"
Yeah, do wizards have a country?
They exist in various countries, are they citizens of various countries?
No, no.
They are not children of America.
Like Mycroft said, no wizard ever goes to the police.
They have their own laws, and no country likes such a group of people doing their own thing in their own country like a colony.
"They're a bunch of thieves, they're stealing our land, our resources."
"Do you have any idea how big the land suddenly appeared in Poland?" said the Minister. "They stole some land in America, they stole some land in England, they stole some land in Germany."
"They're thieves, and I don't recall the government allowing them to set up a so-called Magical Congress under our building."
The black man listened, and seemed to think of something.
Seeing this guy with great power, his eyes flickered.
Without their own land, even if they blend in and hide among the crowd, they are just a group of smugglers.
The minister's attitude made him understand that even smugglers between countries will be deported, let alone people from different races.
The minister leaves.
He carried a war order to be waged.
This time it was Muggle arrogance.
They confidently felt that only a few planes and some soldiers were needed to silence those so-called wizards.
Purple gold is beckoning to them.
And the whole world will completely follow the guidance of the lighthouse.
"Pierce," said the Minister, after hugging a blond man and whispering something in each other's ears, "I think we're going to be 'rich'."
"It's great, enough energy, it's mouth-watering." The man wearing glasses named Pierce smiled at him.
"About the World Security Council," the minister smiled, "I think you are the most suitable successor."
Pierce smiled, "Thank you."
The two shook hands, tacit understanding of each other.
The seeds that Grindelwald planted in the Muggle world have taken root in the most powerful countries.
It's contempt for war, arrogance for wizards.
And people like them are doing the same thing in those big countries.
...
United Kingdom.
The prime minister was subjected to something similar to forced palace.
"I am under huge pressure."
The Prime Minister ran his hair tousled with his fingers and buried his pomaded palms on his face.
Mycroft understood what the Prime Minister meant.
Is it to share a share with the lighthouse, or to stand still?
This is a very difficult thing.
"We don't know [-]% of wizards," Mycroft kept calm and elegant all the time. "In today's information age, this is a fatal mistake."
"I know, but some people are jealous of that." The Prime Minister complained, "You know, the temptation is too great."
"With all due respect, Mr. Prime Minister," Mycroft approached the Prime Minister slowly, bent down, and whispered in his ear, "Do you really think this place is 'clean'?"
The Prime Minister was taken aback for a moment, and then his expression turned serious.
Mycroft observed these subtle changes carefully.
He glanced casually at the British Royal Guard ornaments that were used as ornaments, "I cleaned the room some time ago, sometimes without cleaning, you don't know that there is a lot of dust in the house."
"Those bugs, they can always show up in the room when you're not paying attention."
"It's a headache."
The prime minister's face darkened, and with his messy hair on his head, he said in a deep voice, "Then you should know where to clean in order to find out."
Mycroft stretched out his hand, stroked it in front of the Prime Minister's desk, rubbed his fingers, and said, "More often, we are not careful."
Seeing this action, the prime minister looked very ugly.
In my office, there are those bugs.
He looked up at Mycroft, how the minister understood.
Mycroft smiled and got up, walked to the guard on the bookshelf, knocked down the guard as if by accident, and asked suddenly: "I remember you like the Bible, Mr. Prime Minister?"
"Yes, I go to church on my days off."
Hearing what he said, Mycroft took out a Bible, put it on the table and slowly pushed it over.
"I like a sentence very much," he put his hand on the Bible, nodded and pushed it to the prime minister, and said meaningfully, "the way of salvation lies in it."
Mycroft turned and was about to leave, the Prime Minister slowly opened the book.
A CD is there.
He closed it without changing his expression.
Looks like the war on wizards is going to be put aside.
The real war is inside.
After returning home, the Prime Minister rummaged around, and after confirming that there was no monitoring equipment, he put the CD into the drive.
As the disc rotates in the computer.
The prime minister understood that this was the position of McCaw, and it was also a signal that he did not want to start a war.
After becoming Prime Minister, he never knew that there were far more problems inside than outside.
...
It rains a lot in London.
The rain splashed on the umbrella surface.
Two black umbrellas stood in front of the station.
"Are you proving to me, Watson?" Mycroft calmly looked at some passing passers-by nearby, "How much do you know about the list that even the government doesn't know?"
Under the umbrella next to him, Watson took a sip from a bottle of soda with a straw in his hand. He shrugged and said, "Some business matters, they are more willing to tell their financial managers."
"Every year they have more than one billion pounds flowing to foreign countries, and then flowing back from outside," Watson said with the bottom of the glass bottle in his hand, "It takes half a minute for me to explain to you, but this money only needs In 20 seconds it can be turned into legal currency into the pockets of those people."
"This is a huge chain of interests," Mycroft turned to look at Watson and asked, "For you, it's best to have it in your hands."
"Mycroft, do you know why I like dealing with you?" Watson put the bottle in his pocket with one hand, "Because you know how much I value my family."
"For you, that may be a big excuse, but for me, it's just to make my son less enemies."
Following Watson's movements, the pedestrians around stopped.
Watson walked forward, "I welcome you to dine at the Continental Hotel at any time. There is a neon chef with excellent skills in London."
He walked into the crowd, and the reactivated crowd made him disappear.
Mycroft watched the crowd disappear, unable to tell which ones belonged to the hotel.
"Family?"
Thinking of his younger brother, Mycroft suddenly had a feeling of empathy with Watson.
No matter when and where, family members are the weakness of people like them.
"Offend these people, and you will be in a difficult position, Watson."
McCoff turned and left, he still needs to clean up for the government.
Unpredictable intentions have never been the cleaning standard for people like them.
Whether it is useful to oneself is the question.
The United States, worried that others will enjoy the fruits of victory, can't wait to let itself sail to the ocean.
The unknown fruit, is it a forbidden fruit or a poisoned apple.
It depends on the strength that the wizard can show.
"John Wick."
McCoff wanted to know what kind of person this underground president was, the son he wanted to protect at the expense of giving away a huge profit chain.
What kind of status should it be among wizards?
...
An island in the Atlantic Ocean.
It was crowned with the name of the magic crystal mine.
Sitting cross-legged on the shore, Neville opened a lunch box.
There were three Big Mac sandwiches inside. With a happy smile on his face, he picked up a sandwich and put it in his mouth to take a bite.
Looking up, warships appeared on the coastline.
This place does not belong to any country, which means.
Warships from any country can come here.
Neville ate the sandwich in two bites, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
...
