Chapter 397 Unnamed Draft

At the same time, in a corner of the Shadow Base.

The two soldiers stood back to back.

Their bodies have begun to swell, and it seems as if there is fire burning under their skin. Magic power is raging in their bodies like a wild horse that has broken free from its reins and cannot be controlled.

Their eyes were filled with pain and unwillingness.

As a soldier, dying on the battlefield is the highest honor for every soldier.

Being poisoned to death in one's own base is the most frustrating thing.

Aiden's lips trembled, and his voice was filled with tearing pain.

"Trumpus, brother, I...I may not be able to make it."

Trump's body was also overwhelmed, but he endured the pain and pretended to be relaxed and comforted her.

“Aiden, we have survived all the gunfire and hail of bullets, how can we die over such a small problem?

Come on, brother, hold on, the military advisor and the others must have been thinking of a solution, and it won’t be long before we are saved.”

Aiden said in a hoarse voice with tears in his eyes.

"Brother, being able to fight alongside you on the battlefield is the most glorious moment in my life."

“After the Fort Hood raid, we were the only two left in the entire Falcon Squad.

Are you willing to abandon me like this? So Aiden, hold on for me."

Trump roared, trying to get Aiden to hold on.

Aiden twitched his facial muscles, which were already in unbearable pain, and smiled bitterly.

He was originally weak in magic control, and this situation just hit his sore spot.

He held Trump's hand tightly, "You know me, my magic control has always been poor. This time I can only go first.

If there is an afterlife, we will still be brothers and fight together."

Trump's eyes turned red. "You are the bravest warrior I have ever seen."

Aiden's breathing became rapid, and his body could no longer withstand the violent magic power.

He took a last reluctant look at Trump, then used his last bit of strength to tug at the rope on his body.

He was instantly dragged by a rope to a separate room.

There are already more than a dozen corpses here, all of them are warriors who died because they could not withstand the magic riot.

They will all wait here for death at the moment of explosion.

So as not to affect others who are trying to control their magic.

After all, it is easy to become psychologically unbalanced when watching your former teammates die so miserably.

This doesn't help them to persevere.

"Trump, you must persevere!"

As soon as Aiden's voice fell, his body made a deafening explosion.

The surging magic power hit the wall in all directions, and Aiden's figure was blown into pieces.

At this time, the sky above the Shadow Conference Room was also shrouded in a cloud of gloom.

The high-ranking members of the Shadow were all protected by Dumbledore's armor, so they were all safe for the time being.

But judging from their expressions, they were all at a loss.

"Professor Snape, have you found a solution?" Hermione looked at the returning Snape with hope.

"Now we can only let all the poisoned people cast spells to consume their energy and delay the onset of the disease. Then we will find a complete solution as soon as possible." Snape expressed his thoughts.

Hermione's eyes darkened, but it was good to be able to delay the attack.

"Everyone, please stay in the safest possible position and cast magic to relieve the internal pressure caused by magic. We have found a solution, but it will take some time to prepare. Everyone must hold on."

So her voice echoed throughout the entire Shadow Base.

The Dursleys, who lived at number four, Privet Drive, always boasted that they were a very decent family. Please, please. They never got involved in anything mysterious or weird because they didn't believe in it.

Mr. Vernon Dursley was a supervisor at a company called Grunning, which manufactured drilling machines. He was tall and burly, so fat that he almost had no neck, but he had a big beard. Mrs. Dursley was a thin blonde woman. Her neck was almost twice as long as a normal person's. This was very useful when she spent a lot of time craning over the fence to spy on her neighbors. The Dursleys had a little son named Dudley. In their opinion, there was no better child in the world than Dudley.

The Dursleys had everything they needed, but they had a secret, and their biggest fear was that someone would find out about the Potters. They thought they would not be able to handle it if someone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they had not seen each other for several years. In fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended that she did not have such a sister at all, because her sister and her good-for-nothing brother-in-law were completely different from the Dursleys. The Dursleys were terrified at the thought of the neighbors saying that the Potters had come. They knew that the Potters also had a son, but they had never seen him. The child was also a good excuse for them not to associate with the Potters. They did not want Dudley to be with such a child.

Our story begins on a dark, gloomy Tuesday when the Dursleys wake up early in the morning. The dark, low-lying sky outside the window shows no sign of mysterious and strange things happening in this place. Mr. Dursley hums a little tune and picks out his least favorite tie to wear to work. Mrs. Dursley is happy and keeps chattering, and she stuffs the screaming Dudley into the child's chair.

None of them noticed a tawny owl fluttering past the window.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, kissed Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and was about to kiss Dudley to say goodbye to the little guy, but he didn't kiss him because the little guy was throwing a tantrum and throwing cereal against the wall. "Brat." Mr. Dursley muttered, chuckled, walked out of the house, got in the car, and backed out of drive 4.

On the street corner, he saw the first sign of something unusual - a cat reading a map. At first, Mr. Dursley didn't understand what he saw, so he turned back. He saw a tabby cat standing at the corner of Privet Drive, but there was no map. What on earth was he thinking? It was probably the light that was playing tricks on him. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat, and the cat stared back at him. As Mr. Dursley turned the corner and continued on his way, he looked at the cat in the rearview mirror. The cat was now reading the sign for Privet Drive. No, it was looking at the sign; cats can't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gathered himself and put the cat out of his mind. He drove into town, thinking all the way that he hoped he would get a large order for drilling rigs today.

But as he was about to enter the city, another thing drove the drilling rig out of his mind. As his car merged into the morning traffic, he suddenly saw a group of people dressed in strange clothes on the side of the road. They were all wearing cloaks. Mr. Dursley hated people wearing strange clothes the most, and look at the young people's outfit! He guessed that this was probably another boring new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on the large group of monsters closest to him. They were talking to each other in high spirits. Mr. Dursley was very angry because he found that one of them was not young at all. The man looked older than him and was wearing an emerald green cloak! How shameless! Then, Mr. Dursley suddenly thought that these people were probably collecting donations for something. Yes, that was it. The traffic moved, and a few minutes later Mr. Dursley arrived at the parking lot of the Grunning Company, and his thoughts returned to the drilling rig.