Chapter 1305 Not enough effect? Then increase the dosage!
Outside Piccadilly, in an arcade far from the chaos and light, shrouded in the shadows of buildings, two figures blending into the darkness silently observe the commotion in the center of the square.
Lucius leaned on his snake-headed cane, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the smooth handle, his face maintaining its usual indifference and sense of superiority, as if everything before him was nothing more than a vulgar street drama.
Aiden, no longer wearing the half-face mask, leaned against the cold stone pillar, his intact right eye peering through the gaps in the crowd, precisely locking onto the unusually conspicuous figure, Vincent Wayne.
As Vincent healed hundreds of people simultaneously with the double-serpent staff that emitted a soft white light, Lucius's eyebrows twitched violently.
When Vincent burned the five-pointed star decoration with Fiery Blaze, the air around them seemed to freeze.
Aiden's voice was soft, "How did he get here?"
Lucius let out a short, cold snort. "Vincent Wayne... that show-off kid who was praised to the skies by Fudge and then brought crashing down, is playing the hero again."
His tone was full of the contempt typical of a purebred man, and every word was an attempt to belittle Vincent as an arrogant nouveau riche.
However, Aiden's right eye caught a sharp glimpse of Lucius's knuckles as he gripped the serpent's staff, which were turning slightly white from the force.
Aiden sneered.
Lucius knew Vincent's capabilities better than anyone. This Muggle-born Dark Lord of the New Era burst onto the wizarding world like a dazzling meteor, delivering a resounding slap to all pure-blood supremacists with his undeniable achievements and the Order of Merlin.
Despite his fall from hero to fugitive, no one dared to ignore Vincent's presence, and his appearance undoubtedly severely disrupted the plans.
At this point, contempt is more like a pale and powerless curse.
Aiden saw through it, but didn't say anything.
The two continued to watch quietly as Vincent directed a group of oddly dressed but clearly well-trained Muggles.
Aiden recognized them; these Muggles were the same group that had broken into his stronghold last time and injured his arm with an iron wand.
The chaos in Piccadilly Plaza was quickly quelled by efficient rescue efforts, and the arrival of police and medical personnel silently signaled the failure of their operation.
As Vincent soared into the air, his conspicuous figure transforming into a streak of white light, the two people under the arcade almost simultaneously relaxed their tense nerves.
"Ha—" Aiden suddenly broke the silence, "Mr. Malfoy, are you scared?"
Lucius's face instantly darkened. "Watch your words, Mr. Selwyn."
His voice was low. "It's just a minor, harmless accident. Wayne's appearance might even make this performance... more newsworthy."
He tried to explain Vincent's involvement as an add-on to the plan, but even he himself found it hard to believe his explanation was forced.
Aiden remained noncommittal, his gaze following the long-disappeared white streak in the night sky. "His intervention means the operation has failed. We'll probably have more than half of our seven locations scattered across London blocked because of him and his men."
Lucius was speechless. The oppressive feeling that Vincent brought was real, not only because of his personal ability, but also because of his resolute attitude of intervening in the rescue without hesitation and openly trampling on the Secret Service Act.
This disrupted his real plans, plunging the Muggle world into complete helplessness and panic, forcing the Ministry of Magic to mobilize a large number of personnel to come to the rescue, creating maximum chaos and vacuum, and creating the perfect conditions for Voldemort's actions.
Lucius's mind raced, cold calculations replacing the arrogance born of his pureblood nature.
He was well aware of the cost of failure, so he was determined to keep the plan going no matter what.
“If that’s not enough, then increase the dosage.” His voice trembled slightly, carrying a desperate cruelty. “Downing Street… or Buckingham Palace, choose one, and create an event in the heart of the symbol of Muggle power that is even more brutal and harder to cover up quickly.”
His hand, gripping the snake-headed cane, trembled slightly. "When the same screams echo from the Muggle Prime Minister's office or the Muggle Queen's palace, I'll see if Wayne still has the ability to save everyone."
Aiden squinted his right eye.
The symbol of Muggle power amidst chaos... sounds more satisfying than mere street suffering.
"Are there enough ingredients?" He asked in a rather indifferent tone, as if he were discussing the ingredients for dinner.
Lucius tapped his snake-headed cane on the ground with a somber expression. "That's not something you need to worry about, Mr. Selwyn. You just need to think about how to inflict pain."
He looked up at the direction where the white mark had disappeared, and a strange unease welled up in his heart.
The plan was supposed to be perfect, but Vincent became the variable.
A sinister glint flashed in Lucius's eyes. He withdrew his gaze and coldly stared at Aiden's back, which was about to completely disappear into the darkness.
……
……
Streets near Southbank Centre, London.
Not long ago, an open-air concert was being held here, and then, disaster struck without warning.
A constant, piercing electrical hum emanated from the sound equipment, while people collapsed in agony around the makeshift stage, creating an extremely eerie scene.
Vincent landed outside the police cordon set up by the London police. The officers looked at his white sleeveless cloak and put down their guns.
A middle-aged man in a brown overcoat strode up to greet them. He was Carlton, the head of MI6. Instead of staying at headquarters to command, he led several agents to the nearest scene.
“Mr. Wayne,” he said quickly, his gaze shifting to the elderly members of the Protestant Order who were conducting the rescue, “are those wizards your men? They arrived just in time and have already rescued more than a dozen victims.”
Vincent nodded and looked toward the hastily erected medical station.
Busy medical staff are examining the victims' physical condition; although the curse has been effectively lifted, they remain extremely weak.
“Mr. Carlton, I’m leaving the on-site command to you.” Vincent said, already vaulting over the safety line.
His target was the makeshift stage; the crackling sound system was highly suspicious.
Just as he walked around the fallen crowd onto the stage, several black and white vortexes suddenly appeared out of thin air outside the cordon.
With a sonic boom, an Auror squad led by Kingsley appeared.
They were clearly shocked by the sight before them; at least two hundred people lay collapsed below the stage, a horrifying contrast to the festive decorations.
Some wizards dressed in white sleeveless cloaks and wearing white masks were performing healing magic. The most conspicuous figure was on the stage. Even though his back was to them, Kingsley could recognize him at a glance.
Carlton gestured for the officers to lower their guns and stepped forward, saying, "I am Carlton, the government's crisis management officer."
Kingsley nodded, his eyes fixed on Vincent's retreating figure.
……
……
