"Don't mess around!"
The elder keenly sensed his unsettling demeanor and immediately warned, "Usually it would pass, but at this moment, a journalist pursuing sensitive topics suddenly dies? Are you afraid people won't suspect you?"
"He's an unstable element, Sir... We can't control which target this mad dog ends up on, and his words are quite provocative..."
Kubit lowered his voice, "We can arrange for an 'accident.' I assure you no one will notice... and the ones handling such incidents are all my people..."
"Foolish!"
The elder decisively refused, "Recently, because the remnants of the Scourers have begun stirring again, both the Aurors and the International Wizarding Union are keeping their eyes on New York. Your reckless actions at this time will only get us into more trouble!"
"Kubit, I hope you clearly understand—we need to keep a low profile, let that journalist's speculations be dismissed as nonsense like before, not add fuel to the fire!"
Beneath his intense tone was the elder's anger towards the brutality, danger, and recklessness of the man before him, but he could only suppress his rage, striving to speak calmly:
"Don't fixate on such minor figures, Kubit, we must keep our focus on the most important target... Perhaps we should try a different approach..."
His voice grew lower, and Kubit's gaze gradually brightened.
Through the window and across the street, a colorful car slowly passed by, the buzzing electric sound of "Jingle Bells" piercing the afternoon silence, interspersed with a few low "honk" sounds.
A child squatting by the street playing with mud abruptly raised his head, listened for two seconds, and then excitedly shouted, "The ice cream truck is here!"
Instantly, the children of this neighborhood were summoned, rushing towards the ice cream truck that had already stopped by the roadside.
Before them, a man in a blue jacket, shabby and disheveled, had already taken out his wallet.
"Hello, sir, here's your ice cream."
The man in the blue jacket received the ice cream from the thin vendor, took a bite that consumed half of it, and then slowly walked towards the shadow beneath the high-rise.
Once downstairs, he turned his head to look at the bright glass of the downstairs shop, his eyes meeting those of the sweetly smiling female celebrity on a poster inside.
"What is that Alderich Kubit guy doing in this Muggle building?"
Tom Hake took a big bite of the half-eaten cone, murmuring to himself, "I knew it... this guy definitely has secrets!"
He gobbled down the remaining ice cream, the coldness sending a shiver through his body, then took a notebook and pencil from his pocket, quickly writing down lines of text.
...
An ancient, gold-embossed envelope lay on the table, a delicate crest pressing down its seal.
Vid opened the letter, finding it elegantly written in italics inside:
[Dear Mr. Vid Gray:
Ms. Seraphina Picquery cordially invites you to join her for afternoon tea at her private residence on the Upper East Side of New York tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon.
Looking forward to your reply.
Yours sincerely, Wyatt Harper]
Though he had already made arrangements with Ms. Picquery, she still sent an invitation, and rather than arriving by owl, this invitation was personally delivered to his hotel room by a young witch wearing white gloves.
Remus, observing Vid's expression, knowingly explained, "Ms. Picquery's status is special; such formal invitations are also necessary procedures. Vid, you need to write a letter of acceptance, indicating you'll attend."
Vid nodded—it was as he expected, because the witch who delivered the invitation hadn't left but was sitting waiting in the lobby downstairs.
As Vid sat down to write the letter, he heard Moody next to him knocking loudly on his wooden leg, producing a dull sound, his voice hoarse as he said:
"Humph! All just a waste of time with bureaucratic tricks! Remember, kid, no matter how friendly they act, don't let your guard down! Especially keep your wits about you, don't agree to anything! Folks like them are masters at using politeness and rules to ensnare people!"
In his grievance-filled tone, it was clear he had suffered losses before.
Vid nodded once more, writing a smooth and polite reply letter.
He knew very well that the more distant he appeared with Ms. Picquery, the more likely his mission would succeed on this trip.
...
A day passed rapidly, and Vid changed into an immaculately pressed deep blue robe, which Lupin had bought for him just yesterday at Echo Alley.
The style of the robe was very popular in the American Magic World, its appearance resembling a Muggle trench coat, so wearing it on Muggle streets wouldn't draw any strange looks.
The simple and well-fitting cut outlined his upright figure, still bearing a youthful slenderness but already revealing a composed and reserved demeanor.
From Lupin's gaze, it was clear he was very pleased with Vid's attire.
Moody, however, grumbled, "Why look so nice? It's not a beauty contest! If you ask me, looking a bit shabby and ugly is safer—Vid, why don't you put on that robe you usually wear for research?"
Remus smiled and decisively refused.
"Proper attire is a sign of respect for the person you're meeting, Vid," Remus seriously said, "And given Ms. Picquery's status, if your attire isn't appropriate enough, they might refuse to let you in—don't doubt it, they have that authority!"