155 Chapter 22, Azkaban

Hoffa couldn't break free, in fact, from the moment the dementor appeared, he knew he couldn't escape. The wave-like force field of nothingness eroded his soul, making him unable to make any resistance.

Eventually, he was hooded and handcuffed again, in total darkness. was taken to an unknown place.

At this moment, he began to regret, because he knew that he had completely fallen into the unknown vortex.

After being strung up to walk aimlessly, he was pulled closer to an unknown building and passed through countless checkpoints. In the end, he was stripped naked and stood in front of the faucet, washing every corner of his body. Then, a red-hot steel seal was scalded on his arm. He tried to break free, but found that the magic power in his body had already been blocked again.

After going through countless indescribable processes.

When his headgear was taken off again, he was already wearing an orange prison uniform, and his hands and feet were firmly bound by metal shackles.

On the left and right of him stood a tall jailer wearing an iron mask. Their half-body muscles were raised high, and the hot air from their nostrils condensed into two clouds of mist in the cold.

Hoffa found himself standing on a huge iron bridge. On both sides of the iron bridge are two towering dark brown rock walls. On the wall, there are countless metal grilles densely distributed, and behind each iron grill is a prison cell.

System: Discover the wizard's secret realm.

【Azkaban Wizard Prison】

At this moment, the silent and cold system actually sent out an untimely reminder, as if mocking Hoffa mercilessly.

He was so angry that he was cursing his mother. He drank cocoa in the coffee shop of the hotel in the morning and was imprisoned in the Azkaban prison at night. This was the weirdest and craziest day he had ever experienced.

Although the system reminded Hoffa, in such a state of mind, he no longer has the extra mind to care about the exploration speed or not.

Prisons are the most frightening infrastructure of all human buildings, and other species generally take the method of depriving their companions of violating the rules as punishment.

Only humans, the species, will spend time and effort building big houses, and imprisoning the same kind that violates the regulations, so as to deprive them of their time. Perhaps human beings have discovered from the very beginning that what they are afraid of is not death, but loss of freedom.

Without waiting for Hoffa's messy thoughts to wander for a while, the jailer pushed him and let him walk forward barefoot.

As soon as he moved, it was as if he had touched a switch.

Among the cells on the high wall, countless pairs of skinny and painful hands suddenly stretched out. The prisoners howled desperately, laughed sharply, and wailed in grief, as if they wanted to get rid of Hoffa. What to write on the body.

"Look! It's a newcomer!"

"Haha, a newcomer is here!"

"Still a young boy!"

"Boy, welcome to Azkaban!"

Someone raised his head and laughed wildly:

"Hey, Warden Vincent, your taste has changed recently!"

"It has become a lot lighter!"

"Hahahahahaha~"

There was an indescribable madness in the air.

These people who have been deprived of time by the rules are struggling in the dark prison.

Hoffa was pushed forward step by step, and at this moment he realized that all this was not a joke, he was really locked up in the Azkaban prison.

"Bach!

"It's you, Bach!"

After passing through a row of cages, Hoffa heard someone calling his name amidst the howling, and he followed the call in amazement.

Three tall, but skinny figures climbed into one of the cells, their dirty hair tangled together. Crowded with each other, like a three-headed evil spirit from hell, looking at himself without blinking.

Although their appearance had changed greatly, Hoffa recognized them at a glance. They were his old opponent in the first grade, Grindelwald's subordinate, the black wizard who controlled magical creatures, Schmidt Rutrov. And his accomplices.

It turned out that after they were defeated by their first graders, they were actually imprisoned here.

When they saw Hoffa, they laughed,

"You really are you!"

"Merlin Beard, little bitch, do you still have today?"

"Little bastard, what crime have you committed?"

"Did you kill that old bastard Dumbledore?"

Two of them were slobbering and swearing constantly.

Only Schmidrutrov in the middle, without saying a word, stared at Hoffa until Hoffa passed him by, then he whispered coldly: "Mr. Grindelwald asked me to Hello."

Hoffa turned away in horror.

However, at this moment, several black dementors floated out from the corners of each prison, and floated towards the cages.

They stretched out their rotten and cold fingers, calmly resting on the iron railings of the prison, and drifted forward one by one.

Under the touch of the dementor, the wailing, howling, and laughing of the prisoners all subsided.

Schmidt was no exception. The moment he was touched by the dementor, he let go of his fingers gripping the iron railing, and fell to the ground, curled up, trembling and convulsing.

Madness, chaos no longer appears.

In its place there is only utter nothingness.

But this nothingness made Hoffa even more frightened.

In this boundless emptiness and despair, he walked for more than a hundred meters. The jailer pushed him down the narrow bridge, turned countless bends, and finally came to a dark iron gate.

This iron door is like an enlarged version of the morgue drawer. It is separated from the densely packed walls, cold and without temperature.

The jailer opened the iron gate and unshackled him.

Immediately, Hoffa was pushed in.

There was a bang.

The iron gate closed again.

From the beginning to the end, the two guards did not speak a word to Hoffado.

The light disappeared completely, and Hoffa couldn't see his fingers in the darkness. He could only feel some strange bumps on the frozen ground against his face.

He supported himself mechanically from the ground and got up.

"Damn life!"

Hoffa was annoyed, and he cursed.

Crazy fate is playing with itself frantically.

Throw yourself high and fall hard again, throw yourself high and fall hard again. Fortunately, this time, he fell into the Azkaban prison and was mistaken for a murderer.

Exhausted, exhausted, he leaned his back against the wall, panting. I wonder when I will be able to control this crazy life. Maybe I will never be able to control it, or even maybe I have no chance to control it.

I have been imprisoned in Azkaban, if there are no special circumstances, my life will be over, no parents, no family, no backer

Thinking about it, Hoffa couldn't help feeling sad.

He leaned against the wall, the more he thought about it, the more he felt uncomfortable.

There are so many people in the world, why is it that I am the only one who suffers so badly.

While thinking, he raised a middle finger to the sky, as if in silent protest.

However, within a second of this protest, a huge cold grabbed his mind again. He shuddered and hugged his arms.

He felt something floating down from his side, carrying an extremely cold and rotting corpse breath.

Although it was pitch black and he couldn't see anything, Hoffa knew that it was a dementor.

Thinking about this clearly, he almost cursed.

Is Azkaban so insane, keeping prisoners and dementors in the same room. What's the difference between that and putting a sexual predator in the same room as an underage girl?

His teeth chattered, and he leaned back against the wall as hard as he could.

After about half an hour, Hoffa's eyes finally

used to the darkness.

He saw the three-meter-tall dementor "looking" at him quietly. Its breath is like a blower, slow and long. The interval is almost every half minute.

It floated in mid-air, without eyes or even a face, save for a rotting, pale mouthpart looming.

Hoffa silently swallowed his saliva and shivered. Yes, he felt very cold, very cold, as cold as falling into an ice cellar.

But this creature, which has troubled Harry for a whole school year, just floated quietly in front of him without any extra movement, as if Hoffa didn't exist for it.

The two of them just faced each other in silence.

Holding a glimmer of hope, he began to try to think of some happy memories, and searched his guts to think of some happy memories. But he found that his life was mostly spent in the process of fighting and being fought. He was either fighting or on the way to fight. Either be defeated by the opponent, or defeat the opponent, or lose both.

He tried to find some happiness from these memories, but found that he couldn't find any. He didn't have any memories that made him feel very happy.

Hoffa thought of the first time he transformed into Agmanis, which was perhaps his happiest experience.

He called out tentatively: "Call God to protect you."

Nothing happened, Muggles couldn't be more Muggles.

The dementor tilted his head and took a deep breath. Hoffa leaned against the wall helplessly and sighed.

A blankness after using the activated state for a long time quickly swallowed him, and the hope that was just born was sucked away by the other party. Sure enough, this is a creature that feeds on hope.

Strangely, however, it only took this one sip and didn't get close to Hoffa.

half an hour.

One hour

two hours.

five hours.

Finally, Hoffa regained some emotion from that sense of powerlessness. At this time, he felt a little confused.

Because the dementor looked at it and didn't move afterward. It looked at itself, under the black hood.

It seems to convey a strong desire.

The dementor longed to be near him.

That mental force field is extremely pure.

This aroused Hoffa's curiosity, he stood up, and carefully crawled in front of the monster centimeter by centimeter.

In the dark confinement room, the teenager sat cross-legged on the ground, looking at the monster in front of him in confusion.

Time passed minute by minute.

They stared at each other for a long time.

Hoffa chose to speak: "Can you speak?"

The dementor actually shook his head slightly.