Chapter 650: Retreat
Ryan and more than twenty people squeezed into two elevators, the doors closed, and the elevators began to rise.
How much longer? Ryan asked, and Hermione raised her hand and looked at the hands of her watch. Two minutes and fifteen seconds later, the wildfires set up in the offices of the Muggle-Born Registration Board will explode. Three and a half minutes later, the Weasley fireworks that were previously placed with the bodies will also be lit.
The woman in the interrogation room just now should have gone out to report the news, which should cause some confusion. The only thing I hope is that she will not go out to report the news too early, so that the top will completely block the exit. Ryan analyzed. If everything goes well, we only need to hold on for five or six minutes after we go up, and twenty people can finish walking quickly.
The eighth floor, just after Ryan finished speaking, everyone with a wand was nervously holding their wands and getting ready. Suddenly, a witch's indifferent voice in the elevator said, The main hall.
Move quickly and rush directly to the fireplace. Don't look back at any movement. Looking at the large group of people in the hall, Ryan knew that it was absolutely impossible to sneak out with so many people this time. Fortunately, the killing in the courtroom just now may have really frightened the survivor, and the location of the courtroom was relatively remote and no one noticed. So when the group of them ran into the hall smoothly, everything in the hall was as usual, and there was nothing different from before.
Along the way, many people thought it was strange that so many people lined up to the hall, but under Voldemort’s rule, there were many strange things, and if you want to live well, you must learn not to meddle in your own business, so there is no A guy came out and asked what they were for.
The hall was a little darker than Ryan's before. It turned out that there was a golden fountain in the center, casting spots of light on the bright wooden floor and walls. And now, a huge black stone statue occupies the center position. At the top of this colossal stone statue, a witch and a wizard sat on ornately carved thrones, overlooking the entire hall. At the bottom of the statue are inscribed several foot-high characters: MAGIC IS Might.
Voldemort is really an honest man, dare to directly engrave such a big truth on a stone. Ryan thought after reading these words. However, from this point, it can also be seen that Voldemort is not a qualified Dark Lord. The real Dark Lord should be like Grindelwald. Slogans gather people's hearts.
Ryan was not idle while thinking about these things. Under the greeting of him and Hermione, these Muggle-born wizards got into the fireplace in an orderly manner and disappeared one by one. The wizards of the Ministry of Magic stood hesitantly on the side, some looked confused, some were frightened and dissatisfied, but seeing that Ryan and his group were large and organized, they just watched.
Just after 2/3 of the people left through the fireplace, commotion finally broke out in the hall. Several strikers in gray uniforms touched a metal button on the collar at the same time, and then their expressions changed and they ran towards the fireplace holding their wands. Shouting while running. Stop them, they're mudbloods who escaped from court, and just killed Abbott, director of the Muggle-Born Registration Committee.
Wow—— Contrary to what the batterers had imagined, the group of wizards who were still around didn't directly rush to catch those Mudbloods as imagined, but ran away screaming, even The wizard who was still shouting insults at the Mudblood just now was no exception.
A group of idiots. Ryan complained in his heart. If this group of strikers only said that they were fled by the witches, many people would come to hinder Ryan's actions. In that case, even if these ordinary wizards are not strong, they can still cause a lot of trouble.
But now that group of beaters is directly shouting that this group of people can kill Abbott, the director of the Muggle-born Registration Committee, in court,
This news is too exciting for this group of ordinary people who work in the Ministry of Magic. It is no problem for them to deal with those fugitive wizards who usually look down on them. Forget about the powerful and murderous wizard of the director of the committee.
After seeing that the staff in front did not stop the group of hemp-seeded wizards as expected, the group of strikers had to speed up their pace. But soon they stopped, because at this time, both their own shadows and the wooden floor were hindering their progress with all their strength.
Keep running, don't stop. Ryan shouted loudly to the dazed wizards, and then waved his wand to make wooden thorns appear one after another on the smooth wooden floor to attack the batterers. And Hermione is also manipulating the shadows of these people into claws or ropes to hinder their progress.
After seeing this scene, several strikers began to cast various spells on Ryan and the others. After avoiding a death curse, Ryan released a finger of death backhand to kill the guy who blocked the way.
After seeing their companions being shot dead, the other hitters involuntarily slowed down, and the spells they hit were also much sparser. This calmed down the remaining sorcerer wizards, bent over and trotted to retreat one by one according to the plan. Fifteen seconds later, the remaining eight hemp-seeded wizards all successfully retreated along the fireplace.
Just after the last hemp-seeded wizard left, a middle-aged wizard wearing a gorgeous and flowing robe inlaid with gold threads ran over from the direction of the elevator. Unfortunately, his gloomy, slightly brutal face and His flamboyant clothes did not match him.
Catch those two little guys and don't let them escape. The gloomy wizard shouted in a shrill voice. Otherwise none of you will be able to escape the punishment of the Dark Lord today. Of course, if you can catch or kill them, the Dark Lord will give you enough rewards.
The prerequisite is that they can live to that time. Ryan also shouted in a loud voice. Besides, even if it's Voldemort, it's impossible to kill them all. Of course I can't, but I can still kill whoever rushes to the front.
After speaking, Ryan shot out another finger of death, and the striker who rushed to the front was directly hit in the face by the green light and fell to the sky. And just behind him, a wooden thorn came out of the floor and pierced directly into the back of his head and protruded from the frame of his left eye.
After seeing this scene, the morale of all the attackers who were chasing up just now, which had been boosted by rewards and intimidation, immediately withered away as if they had been poured a bucket of cold water in front of them. No matter how inspiring, intimidating or even Cruciatus Curse hit a person by that sullen-looking wizard. The others remained in place and hesitated.
It seems that even if you occupy the Ministry of Magic, you still can't wash off the smell of rats in the gutter. Ryan saw this scene and sarcastically, then raised his wand and shot at the large statue in the hall. A pink spell.
After being hit by the spell, the statue quickly collapsed like it was made of sand. In the billowing smoke from the collapse of the statue, Ryan pulled Hermione and Rose Crystal into the fireplace together. After a few seconds of spinning, they erupted from a toilet bowl.
How much wizards love toilets. Ryan complained. When Hogwarts was rebuilt, the Gunter family hid the entrance to the secret room in the toilet, and the Ministry of Magic also hid the entrance in the toilet.
That's because the toilet is highly concealed, and no one will pay attention to what is going on in the next cubicle? Hermione shrugged, and then listened nervously to the movement around her.
According to the plan, they planned to make another ambush here. On the one hand, it is to eliminate the opponent's vitality as much as possible, and on the other hand, it is to create enough chaos to help those witches run a little farther.
