299 Chapter 21, Silent Killing

"so?"

Hoffa frowned.

"So I'm going to do something for the master, I'm going to launch the Dark Mark to announce this great moment!" In the Black Forest, Little Barty said enthusiastically.

Hoffa opened his mouth wide, and gradually realized that this little Barty is obviously the kind of fan of celebrities in later generations. He doesn't have much opinion and brains, and he will follow anyone who is awesome. Shows a high degree of identification and centripetal force to the group to which he belongs, and shows a high degree of hatred and hostility to other groups. On the one hand, he does his best to praise the person he likes, and on the other hand, he doesn't care whether he has the strength to sit firmly that location. But in the final analysis, what he was protecting was not Voldemort at all, but his own fragile self-esteem.

If at this time, a Dark Mark was issued from such a place, wouldn’t it push the extremely weak Voldemort to the target of public criticism? Originally, the Ministry of Magic believed that he was dead. Wouldn’t it be like shouting at the sky-I’m not dead yet , all come to me!

Hoffa was stunned. He absolutely couldn't let this idiot launch the Dark Mark. This would simply increase the difficulty of realizing his plan geometrically.

"you dare!!"

Hoffa yelled sharply, scaring little Barty to sit on the ground.

However, just when he was about to kill this guy and completely extinguish little Batty's dangerous thoughts.

clap clap.

There were hurried footsteps in the distance.

He turned his head immediately to see a panicked strange man in a kilt and a South American cape rushing out of the jungle.

Before Hoffa could react, what was going on.

boom! !

Then there was another clear gunshot from behind.

The man in the kilt fell to the ground.

It was only then that Hoffa recognized that this person was the Ministry of Magic official who welcomed him into the Quidditch World Cup camp in the morning?

He hurried over and helped the man up. He was trembling all over, and was hit by a bullet in the back, and strange green smoke was emitting from the position of his wound.

"What's wrong with you?" Hoffa asked in shock.

"Sleep, sleep will die. Sleep will die!!"

The man grabbed his arm tightly, with a ferocious expression on his face, and repeated with trembling lips: "Sleep to death, sleep to death."

"What? What did you say?" Hoffa didn't understand.

His eyes widened and he fell silent.

"Hello? Hello? What happened?"

Hoffa shook him vigorously, but under his shaking, the man's body disintegrated at a speed visible to the naked eye, first his back, then his arms, and finally his head, all in the Under the erosion of the wound on his back, it turned into debris and dust.

He raised his head abruptly, and in the mist of the night, a guy who was dressed similarly to the one when the theater was destroyed was standing in the mist. He wore a metal birdcage on his head and an old black military uniform. He was skinny and held a pistol.

It was such a weird person again, Hoffa gasped.

He had seen this kind of weird outfit in the memory of the Nightmare God. Those who were controlled by Silby fifty years ago were dressed like this. Could it be that they came for him? Or is it that he has not gone back for a long time, which has already caused the world line to collapse?

In the mist, the man with the bird cage fired a shot, turned the gun without hesitation, and pulled the trigger again at the dazed little Barty in the open space.

boom! !

Bullets glowing green shot out.

Hoffa's face changed, he kicked little Barty away without hesitation, and then rushed towards the people in the mist.

The shot missed, and the strange man with the bird cage head was pushed out by Hoffa and hit the ground heavily.

"who are you!?"

Hoffa picked him up, and the man weighed less than fifty kilograms, very light.

"Savior (German)"

The man wearing the weird birdcage said calmly.

"Did you burn down my theater?" Hoffa snapped.

"Humph."

The eyes of the man under the cage showed deep disdain, and he looked at him like a fool, and then his body swelled rapidly, as if inflated.

Hoffa had a bad feeling and raised his hand like an electric shock to throw him away.

The man's body exploded in the distance.

There was a flash of intense green light, without the slightest sound, the trees and tents within a radius of tens of meters, including the man himself, all turned into dust and slowly floated down.

Hoffa frowned and walked near the clearing, billowing green smoke and dust eroded the land, making a crackling sound.

Soon, the dust and smoke dissipated, and there was nothing in a radius of tens of meters, except for a crooked birdcage that had been bombed and fell on the ground, with some green smoke slowly emitting from the head of the birdcage. gas.

He just touched the head of the birdcage with his hand a little, and the smoke corroded his hand into pits, and he retracted his palm in pain.

Dead, as simple as that?

Hoffa looked at his palm, thinking of the guy's disdainful smile before he died, and always felt that things were not that simple.

So he spread his wings behind his back, and with little Barty's devilish expression, he soared into the sky, reaching an altitude of several hundred meters.

In the whistling Welsh night sky, he closed his eyes, and all within a few kilometers were enveloped by his spiritual force.

Cheering crowds, shuttle broomsticks, and hundreds of men holding torches in the mist. They stood outside the Quidditch pitch, about every one hundred meters, holding torches, waiting quietly.

Hoffa opened his eyes and gasped.

He couldn't help but think of what happened in the theater last time, when he was a money-spreading boy in the theater. Attracted a bunch of Muggles who wanted to get it without prison, but they were taken over by someone. Thousands of people were all turned into dust, and there were no bones left. Muggles don't even know that people die and disappear.

But this time. There were hundreds of guys in the same dress, surrounded the Quidditch pitch of Nuo Da. Only then did he realize that maybe the man who blew himself up just now didn’t come for himself, but where there are more people. A total terrorist.

Damn it!

Thinking that Harry Potter, Voldemort's target, was still watching the game, he didn't dare to hesitate at all. After landing on the ground, he immediately rushed to the field. When he passed by Barty Jr., he told Barty Jr., "You Find a place to hide first."

"Mr. Bach? Mr. Bach! Where are you going?"

Little Barty called anxiously behind him: "When are you going to take me to see the master?"

Hoffa didn't answer, and he untied the vines that bound Shining, and then he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"Now the two go hand in hand! Who will win!?"

"Closer, closer!"

"Oh no, Lin Qi fell to the ground!"

"Golden Snitch, Viktor Krum caught the Snitch, my God, my God!!"

"The Irish team won!"

In the stadium, the winner was already decided, and Ludo Bagman shouted frantically and in a daze, "Krum caught the Snitch, but the Irish team won—oh my God, I don't think any of you expected it would be Such an ending!!"

The scores flashed on the scoreboard, Bulgaria: 160, Ireland: 170, and the audience didn't seem to realize what was going on. Then, slowly, like a jumbo jet speeding up, the chatter from the Ireland supporters grew louder, culminating in a myriad of shouts of joy.

"Now, the players of the Irish team are accompanied by their mascots for a circle, and the Quidditch World Cup trophy is sent to the top box!" said Bagman's bell-like voice.

Ireland's players danced for joy as their mascot showered them with gold coins. Flags were waving all over the stadium, camera spotlights blazed and the Irish national anthem blared from all directions.

With an anxious face, Hoffa walked past a group of fanatical fans waving flags, and came to Nicole LeMay's side.

When Nicole Flamel saw him coming, he stood up excitedly from his chair, "Boy, did you see that last scene? It was so exciting, there were twists and turns, even catching the Snitch didn't change the game!"

"How long does it take for the deadly poison to take effect?"

Hoffa pressed Nicole Flamel's shoulder without saying a word.

"Ah?" Nicole Flamel was confused, "What did you say?"

Hoffa reached out and handed the twisted iron birdcage under Nicole Flamel's nose. At this moment, there was still a faint green smoke lingering on the cage. The smoke made a hissing sound when it came into contact with his skin, constantly corroding him. skin, but it was quickly repaired by the ability of the vampire.

After seeing the birdcage, Nicole Flamel's expression gradually changed from excitement in the carnival to shock, and finally to fear. He slumped down on the chair, his face was as white as paper, and his forehead was dripping with cold sweat.

Hoffa: "I was outside just now, and someone blew up and attacked me, leaving no ashes in a radius of tens of meters. Is this rotting corpse poison?"

Nicole Flamel looked at him blankly.

Hoffa said angrily, "Speak up, how long will it take for the rotting corpse poison to erupt? Will the entire stadium be poisoned?"

Nicole May woke up after being yelled at by Hoffa. He wiped the cold sweat off his head and shook his head, "It's not impossible. Poisoning 100,000 people, there is no such thing in the world."

"Then what is this?"

"I haven't studied it, I haven't studied it, maybe not, but it feels a bit similar to the alchemical properties of rotting corpse poison."

While talking, the players of the Bulgarian and Irish teams finished accepting their awards, and a crowd of people walked outside the Quidditch pitch. They sang and cheered, while the leprechauns kept flying above their heads, waving their hands. Lanterns, rattling and laughing.

Oops!

Think of the hundreds of terrorists waiting outside the Quidditch pitch.

Hoffa exclaimed that something was wrong, if it wasn't rotting corpse poison, was it going to blow up people directly?

He dragged Nicole Flamel and ran towards the top box without hesitation, but when he returned to the top box, Harry Potter and the others had already left. Looking down through the glass on the top floor of the corridor, good guy, every 100 meters outside the stadium, there are grand carnivals being held.

The center of the carnival was a few exposed women waving Irish flags. They were held up by a few strong men and thrown high into the sky.

In the air, the woman's body suddenly turned into countless golden coins and flowers, which scattered in all directions.

The onlookers, on the other hand, didn't know what was going on, they just squatted down and snatched money noisily, engrossed in the carnival at the end of the finals and the excitement of the gold coins.

Hoffa's face turned pale behind the glass on the top floor. In his opinion, where was the picture of beautiful women turning into money, it was clearly men in black wearing birdcages bursting out of the crowd.

The silent green light flickered, and hundreds of people were killed in the blink of an eye. Those who thought they were robbing money evaporated into ashes without making a sound.

However, the ashes were transformed into more eye-catching flowers and gold coins under the packaging of some kind of transfiguration technique, making people not aware of the horror at all, but they rushed up one after another, laughing happily.

Under the night sky, countless silver light spots are flying, which are souls who don't know the so-called souls.

Nicole Flamel was so frightened by this tragic scene that he sat down on the ground. Hoffa managed to hold on to the glass so as not to fall. It was the first time he had seen such a stately and extremely concealed glass in a long time. way of killing.

Silent slaughter! ! !

"How to do how to do?"

Nicole May got up from the ground in a daze, "This way, this way, Harry Potter will die, and Barty Jr. may die too!"

Hoffa closed his eyes, bit his lips tightly, and calmed himself down:

"Someone is using transfiguration to change the environment. He turned the horrible explosion into a beautiful firework. If the source of the magic cannot be found, maybe a hundred thousand people here and here may be killed silently. We must find the source of the transfiguration. !"

"The cage, the cage!"

Nicole Flamel suddenly pointed to the iron birdcage in Hoffa's hand and shouted: "That's a cage worn by people fifty years ago, and they can share dreams."

Shared dreams?

Hoffa put the mutilated cage on his head without hesitation.

Click! !

It was as if the soul had been struck with a giant hammer.

A crack appeared in his unbroken spirit.

The invisible huge colorful eyes suddenly opened behind him.

A certain familiar aura quickly enveloped him. He had experienced that aura many, many years ago. It was a kind of aura that made people crazy, empty, desperate, and tear everything apart—the dragon of nothingness.

The most tragic memories came to his mind one after another. Hoffa yanked off the cage. He looked at the top in disbelief. The breath came from the highest point of the Quidditch pitch.

"Grindelwald!?"

A monstrous hatred welled up in my heart.

With six wings on his back, he slammed open the dome of the top box on the Quidditch pitch.

under the huge moon.

On the smooth mirror-like canopy of the stadium, a man whose head was firmly locked in a cage sat cross-legged on the highest point.

He was skinny, wearing a tattered black robe, and his white hair cascaded down from his shoulders, cascading into a stream on the ground.

Although he has aged a lot, and although he has not seen him for many years, Hoffa recognized his identity at a glance.

And he also opened his eyes and smiled slightly:

"Long time no see, Bach."