Chapter 144

"Well...that child was brought by nuns from an orphanage in a village on the British border. It is an institution of the Catholic Church. I heard that he killed many people and was ostracized and beaten, so he was brought back by the nuns."

"Why did he leave?"

"He didn't leave! At that time...some politicians took a fancy to him and asked him to go...how could he leave with such a temperament? Alas..."

The priest was frightened by Nietzsche's magic and stammered.

But for now, we know that the Irishman was ostracized because of magic, so he hurt others, and after being exposed to Catholicism, he felt extreme resentment towards his own abilities.

The emphasis is on the ‘politician’, which means the other side knows about these tacit ones within the church.

"It's time, this place is closed!" After the priest felt that the pressure on his body was relieved, he stood up with support on the table.

"You have other ascetics, and their situation is very dangerous."

Nietzsche rushed out of the confessional and grabbed the other man's robe.

"No! You demons...you killed an innocent believer, nun, drive them away...those innocent children were forced to have demonic powers, and they regret the people they hurt!"

Right, so those Obscurials began to hate the wizard who gave them this power?

Of course, in addition to psychological reasons, there is also a bit of fanatical religious thought.

The old priest had a bad impression of Nietzsche. He grabbed the monk's relics tightly and pushed Nietzsche and Shylock out of Bath Abbey in front of some nuns and monks.

The evening breeze poured in through the door, and at this moment, Nietzsche held the priest's wrist and stopped him from moving.

In the wind, he smelled a pungent smell, mixed with the aroma of some corn tortillas and pepper. After Sherlock saw his eyes, he used his arms to guide the old priest to the stone carving of "Angel Climbing the Ladder". By the wall.

"Hush... Maybe you hate magic, but the next guest who comes to the church to pray is a North American wizard." Nietzsche covered his mouth and said softly.

He waved his hand and pushed the overwhelmed nun into the confessional.

"Click~"

Sherlock took out his gun in front of several ordinary people, and after protecting these Muggles, Nietzsche slowly walked to the middle of the aisle of the church seats, tilted his ears, and listened to the solemn sound of the organ.

Because of environmental issues, North American wizards are generally good at hiding.

Nietzsche reluctantly pulled out his wand. If he violated the "Minor Wizards Act" again, it would be more than just a warning, but he could only explain it to Minister Fudge personally when the time came.

"Nox."

It was originally used to break the lighting spell, but its original intention was to 'extinguish' rather than 'break the spell'.

He shook his wand, and the priest and nun saw something unforgettable in their lives - all the lights and flames in the church were extinguished in an instant, leaving only dots of moonlight through the stained glass.

All energy returns to calm.

Under the solemn sound of the organ, Nietzsche heard the friction sound of the soles of the shoes and the ground caused by turning steps.

"Shattered to pieces."

The unreasonable crushing curse pierced the dark church and blew one of the stone pillars into pieces, but Nietzsche's idea was not to attack, but to determine the direction of the opposite side.

The raised gravel was flying everywhere, but some of it hit the air...

"The sun shines!" Nietzsche threw the wand out, and the rotating lightsaber chopped up the rows of benches like a cutting machine. After hitting a layer of pale white film, it was deflected to the other side and inserted into the On the cross.

Sherlock fled Bath Church with the old priest.

The North American dark wizard who was forced out of his true form angrily turned the ground into a puddle of mud. After controlling Nietzsche, he chased his target alone - a priest who was related to the Purifiers.

"Here comes the wand."

Nietzsche didn't even bother to dodge the curse. He held the magic wand and slashed it down, splitting the quagmire ground in the church into two halves like Moses split the sea.

He simply put a braking spell on his shoes, jumped in front of the dark wizard in two or three steps, fought with him, and cut off his wings - using magic to wear away the energy of the armor spell.

How many wizards in North America have ever seen this scene before? Who are the wizards fighting in close quarters?

As soon as I heard a few whistling and dull buzzing sounds, I quickly lowered my head and bent over, almost moving my head.

"Flying sand and flying stones!" The dark wizard faced Nietzsche and screamed.

The red beam of light did not hit him, but hit the ground. In fact, after seeing that Nietzsche seemed to be wearing something that could defend against magic, the dark wizard gave up the idea of ​​fighting him and focused on the mission.

The sand and rocks splashed up by the huge explosion made both of them narrow their eyes.

The anti-curse suit was good at everything, but it couldn't protect against impact. Nietzsche was blown to the roadside, and the other party's luck was even worse... He smashed the window and flew into the Crescent Restaurant, which was only across the road.

The dark wizard suddenly fell in and hit Watson's gambling table.

Plenty of pounds, together with chips, cards, broken glass and debris, were scattered everywhere on the ground, followed by Watson's joy of just winning money.

"Wait a minute...gentlemen, please don't move..." He instantly put away his smile and slowly bent over as he spoke.

"Old rules! Whoever gets the money that falls on the ground gets it!"

"No! Those are all my money!!"

Chapter 211 Bounty Hunter

The dark wizard was kicked out by Watson, and Nietzsche chased the dark wizard. The gambling table they overturned made the whole Crescent Restaurant a mess.

The winners were roaring, the losers were fighting, the gentlemen were tearing each other's expensive suits, and the expensive wine and champagne were sprinkled from the second floor like petals, and the ladies were squeezed around with cigarettes in their mouths, covering their chests.

Nietzsche held the magic wand and shuttled flexibly among the crowd like a French swordsman. Every stab made people exclaim.

In the last collision, they were blown away by the burst of magic power, and the magic wands that fell out of their hands were caught by the onlookers. Countless hands pulled the dark wizard and Nietzsche apart, making them unable to use any strength.

"It seems that we can gamble again!" The drunken Muggles shouted.

Amid the shouting, the Muggles handed the magic wands back to the two people in person, not realizing what they were doing at all.

"I bet you two hundred pounds, kid." The young Muggles' faces were red, and their alcohol-smelling saliva flew everywhere, "Let those old guys see our strength!"

It seems that it's halftime now.

Nietzsche whistled, raised his hand to grab a glass of refreshing rum to rinse his mouth.

"Four... three... two... one!"

With a shout, the two wizards present were pushed out by the Muggles behind them. They were like beasts and mercenaries in the ancient Roman Colosseum in this ancient Roman building.

Emotional shouts and roars, sweat and blood surrounded them.

Nietzsche tore off his unrecognizable coat, and the smooth anti-curse coat reflected a dark green light under the light. He changed his grip to two-handed, and put the wand upright on his right shoulder. The 'buzzing' sound of the lightsaber blended into the environment.

The advantage of the wand---it has no weight.

"Armor to protect yourself."

Seeing Nietzsche approaching closely, the other party did not dare to be arrogant, and then used Transfiguration to turn the wine glasses in the hands of several ladies into dozens of poisonous snakes, with sharp teeth bared, rushing towards him with screams.

But when they jumped into the air, Nietzsche used magic to pinch them into meat balls.

"Disembowel!"

This was a gut-pulling spell.

But the other party did not attack him, but...Muggles.

The venue was too small. Nietzsche had just pinched the poisonous snakes into glass shards, and several Muggles who were pulling on wizard robes lay on the ground and were brutally dissected. The intestines were intact and suddenly fell to the ground.

As expected of an American, the magic he used was so bloody.

The other party pushed those people away, muttered a few spells, and lightly jumped to grab the curtain hanging on the wall, swinging to the corridor on the third floor.

Nietzsche grabbed the intestines, stuffed them roughly into the Muggle's body, and sewed the wound with healing magic.

"Catch him, it's Jack the Ripper!"

The Muggles made way in fear, but their eyes followed Nietzsche and the dark wizard.

Without the interference of these people, Nietzsche quickly locked onto the enemy. When the other party saw the priest, he felt difficulty breathing as soon as the wand flashed green light, and he was lifted into the air by the throat.

And that's not all. Immediately afterwards, he was hit hard to the ground, smashing through the wooden floor.

Nietzsche walked over panting and found that the man had fainted due to spinal damage and lack of oxygen. If he was lucky, he would be half paralyzed.

"Mexican?" Sherlock's head stuck out from the hole, "Don't get close to him, who knows if there will be smallpox, measles or other flu."

The old priest on the side was already scared silly. He walked over blankly and closed the man's eyes.

"You are wanted." Nietzsche said, "Professional assassins, these North American wizards specialize in collecting heads for bounties... How much do you know about the Purgers?"

"I heard about this organization a long time ago because of my work." The priest sighed and said in confusion, "But an old man like me doesn't like it. It's too extreme... Why would someone want to kill me, and you..."

His eyes swept back and forth between the bounty hunter and Nietzsche. It was obvious that he was talking about the 'power of the devil'.

"He is a wizard." Sherlock said.

"Some young and confused people in your monastery have met some very dangerous people, and they believe that these people will reveal something." Nietzsche asked back, "Why do they want to wash away their sins?"

"Because of power, I said... Those children hope they are normal people."

"But they are normal! The suppression brought by asceticism will only make them an unstable bomb! They should have become a superman!"

No wonder the ascetic practice was criticized later, and it was fortunate that Freud was not born in the 16th century.

The smoke cleared, the farce gradually stopped, and Watson came over in dishevel.

His hair was messy, one of his eyes was black, and only a few strips of cloth were still attached to the sleeves of his suit, revealing the white shirt underneath. He was holding a bottle of champagne that he hadn't finished, and he walked unsteadily.

"Just had a fight?" I don't know if Watson was talking about himself or them.

But Nietzsche cleared his throat and didn't dare to look him in the eye.

"Where are you?" Watson took a sip of wine and cursed in a daze, "Where were you when I was beaten? Did you see it? She actually bit my leg! I finally won once, but it was all gone!"

"But at least you went crazy once before getting married." Nietzsche muttered.

On the way back, Sherlock was driving, Watson dozed off in the back seat, and the priest was unable to open his eyes due to the strong smell of alcohol, so he had to open the car window a crack.

Only the cool evening breeze could wake him up from wizards and magic.

And the dying black wizard was thrown into the trunk of the car, and Nietzsche would have to drag him to a deserted place to deal with it.

"Your monks were used by others, and they became living bombs." He described the whole thing in brief words, "Last time, a wizard hospital was blown up."

"I don't know these things..."

The old priest looked at the street lights outside the window, still struggling in his heart.

He subconsciously rejected wizards and magic because of work and faith, but if the price of practicing faith is to kill innocent people, doesn't that violate the original intention of faith?

If magic is a sin, then what is the faith that makes those young people become silent?

"You need to stay alive and rescue those Obscurials with us." Sherlock glanced at the mirror above and saw the priest in a dilemma. "Only if you pull them back can it be used as evidence."

"But where are we going?" said the priest. "I don't know where those children were sent by those organizations."

"No matter where you go, you can't go back... By the way, make a phone call when the time comes, so that no one will say that you were kidnapped by the devil."

Chapter 212 Fudge's meeting with the professor

In mid-July, Fudge was invited to attend a banquet at Downing Street, and this time, he was here to deal with the Purgers.

Not many people came in and out. In addition to the Prime Minister and several cabinet ministers, he could see the portrait of Urik Gamp hanging in the center, but Minister Gamp could only blink at him and rarely spoke in Muggle territory.

"I deeply sympathize with your experience..." said the Prime Minister.

But in fact, he suddenly felt that it was not a bad thing for those purgers to go to the wizards to cause explosions. At least it could make the Minister of Magic see the reality clearly---he needed the help of Muggles.

Although the Prime Minister admitted that it was their dereliction of duty, this black pot was nothing.

Compared with this admission, they gained more: opening the door to wizards, which means a steady stream of technology and wizards joining the new world.

"We will help you investigate this matter. In addition, I hope you will not prohibit wizards from interacting with us for this reason."

"No, aren't those wizards working here now?" Minister Fudge was very uncomfortable and hesitant, "I just hope you can protect them and don't let the purgers in again."

He didn't know these Muggles very well, let alone eating. He ate a few bites and walked aside with the snacks.

But no one paid attention to him, so this made him more absent-minded and began to doubt: Muggles don't have much ability.

Just as Fudge stood in front of the window, watching the traffic outside, Professor Moriarty, dressed in formal attire, came over. He did not have the hypocritical smile of politicians, but shook hands with him gently and helped him out.

"I apologize for my friend... Don't think he doesn't care. In fact, we have already started investigating."

Fudge put down some of his worries and looked at him gratefully.