Chapter 205: Cooperation Collapses Before It Begins
Ordinary people know little about wizards, fearing their ability to appear and disappear in flames, terrified that two wizards might pop up behind them and wipe them out.
However, Martin and his group, who constantly bounced between the wizarding and Muggle worlds, had a very clear understanding of the combat capabilities of both sides. They knew for a fact that they were no match for the guns pointing at them. With things having come to this, Martin could only feign confidence. "Surveillance is hardly a show of sincerity for cooperation!"
But a national intelligence chief is an expert in reading people. Even if he couldn't see through Martin's bravado, he could certainly see the other Magi-Metal Wizards, whose mental fortitude was lacking, trembling under the cold muzzles of the guns.
This discovery raised doubts in his mind: Are wizards no different from ordinary people? Are they just as afraid of bullets, merely surpassing ordinary people's technology in certain mysterious fields?
He made a subtle hand gesture behind his back, signaling the soldiers behind him to fire two shots—to test the goods.
Receiving the signal, the soldiers immediately raised their guns. Bang, bang! Two bullets accurately hit a random Magi-Metal Wizard whom they deemed unimportant.
In their judgment, two people were important. One was Hawke, because everyone hopes their opponent is an idiot—idiots spill more intel.
The other was Martin, because Martin was smart. In the eyes of the DGSE, smart people were always useful, no matter the time or place.
Blood bloomed.
Screams erupted.
One man's limbs were shattered. He wailed on the ground, rolling in pain, kicking up dust as he struggled towards the window. Trying to escape, he found his strength failing him, and his screams turned into desolate sobbing.
"What are you doing?!" Martin cried out in shock and anger, fear washing over him. Cold sweat drenched his back.
"Merely weighing the qualifications of our allies," the DGSE Director said with a nonchalant shrug. "Cooperation requires sincerity, and naturally, it requires proving one's worth. I control all of France's intelligence work and command thousands of fully armed soldiers. But you... you need to show me you're qualified."
He spoke slowly, but his words terrified the Magi-Metal Wizards present. "Unfortunately, I don't see the qualifications to cooperate with me. My apologies, but I must invite you all to the Swimming Pool."
As he spoke, he took a subtle step back, and soldiers from both sides moved in to shield him.
Before coming, he had done his homework. Analyzing Hawke's behavior, he deduced that a wizard's power was generally related to knowledge. Since it was knowledge-based, there would be poor students and good students, weak wizards and powerful wizards.
After speaking, he was on guard against a powerful wizard suddenly jumping out to turn the tables on him.
He didn't mind groveling on the spot if necessary, but the prerequisite was not getting insta-killed by the other side. Only by surviving could he grovel.
As for whether he worried about losing face by groveling... well, as a political creature, let alone groveling, even kowtowing and calling someone "Daddy" was normal in political circles. If you couldn't handle that, you shouldn't walk this path.
Only after the soldiers had everyone under control did the Director sigh regretfully. It seemed his luck wasn't great. Although he had encountered an idiot who cared little for secrecy and a smart man, he hadn't encountered a truly strong individual, a big shot who could really talk business...
This is fine too, he thought, weighing the pros and cons. Based on the intel revealed by Hawke, these self-proclaimed 'Magi-Metal Wizards' are in an extremely weak position and unpopular with mainstream wizards. I can be tough with them...
"Take them away."
"Yes, sir."
Armored vehicles drove out from the woods near the entrance. The soldiers bound the captured Magi-Metal Wizards and shoved them into the vehicles, speeding back to the Swimming Pool.
Magi-Metal Wizard Academy, next to Beauxbatons.
Quirrell, who resided at the academy, noticed that several people were absent from class today.
"This shouldn't be happening. Going from having no access to magic to learning magic... their interest should last at least a year. Unexplained absences shouldn't be happening this early."
Quirrell could only assume some emergency had occurred at their homes, leaving them no time to ask for leave. After all, accidents couldn't be predicted.
Such things had indeed happened once or twice before.
Those who skipped class would usually rush over the next day to explain the situation.
As for why they weren't given Communicators, it was because the magic within their bodies was too scarce. Using a Communicator for them was like charging for two hours to talk for five minutes. They had to rely on the Communicator slowly absorbing ambient magic to recharge, which wasn't convenient at all—in fact, it was more trouble than it was worth.
"But... more than a dozen people having family emergencies at the same time? Is that reasonable?"
Quirrell decided to find Maxime. currently, he lacked the ability to investigate, and some matters needed to be handled by capable people.
On the way to the eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle.
Snape and McGonagall ran into each other.
"Good evening, Severus."
"Good evening, Minerva."
Although they were colleagues, Gryffindor and Slytherin had maintained a relationship of "fire and water" for over a decade.
Moreover, Slytherin had won the House Cup for several consecutive years, which made Minerva quite dissatisfied with her little lions.
Thus, the two merely nodded briefly to each other.
Finally, they spoke the password to the Headmaster's office in unison.
Upon arriving, they found almost everyone else was already there; they were the last batch.
Dumbledore (City Lord), Gellert (Foreign Kin/Consort), Ryan (Heir Apparent), Flitwick (Heir's Tutor), Sprout...
Only Snape and McGonagall were missing.
Dumbledore gestured for them to sit. "Everyone is here. Let Ryan explain his ideas."
Ryan stood up, handing copies of the proposal (duplicated with the Gemino Curse) to the latecomers, Snape and McGonagall. Then, he reiterated his thoughts on deepening academic disciplines.
After listening, Snape snorted. "Allowing mediocrities and dunderheads to tarnish the glory of Potions? I disagree."
Ryan wasn't worried about Snape undermining him. Snape was a classic tsundere. For an action like lowering the research threshold for potions, the fact that he hadn't stood up and started shouting abuse meant he had already accepted it.
Everyone knew Snape well. No one worried he would refuse, so they waited quietly for his next words.
Sure enough, after a moment of silence, Snape stared at the document in his hand without looking up. "However... refining the field of Potions does sound interesting. I will contact other members of the Society of Potioneers—renowned Potions Masters, professors from other schools—to plan out these subdivisions together."
"Severus, I will also write to the International Association of Potioneers, hoping they can cooperate with you to promote this project."
"Cooperate with me? Those people?" Snape sneered. "Dumbledore, I would prefer you ask someone else to come out of retirement. Professor... and I, together, would be more suitable to lead this project."
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