Chapter 1060 - 147: I Have What They Want
Abigail’s heart nearly stopped!
Her body instantly tensed, her right hand quickly drew out her magic wand, and just as the spell was about to leave her lips, she saw those clear eyes slowly...
Close again.
Abigail’s arm reflexively twitched, and she clenched her teeth hard, swallowing back the spell without foolishly revealing herself.
In her mind, a brief image flashed by: a boy with gray eyes and that unforgettable, beautiful vampire girl.
Abigail knew that the former... was Vid Gray.
As for the latter...
She bit her lip, her gaze showing rare hesitation.
——Is it again those memories buried from Hogwarts?
Her mind flashed back to when she first awakened, and Bloren’s sympathetic gaze beside her.
"You were exposed, Serra..."
Bloren said gravely:
"You were overdosed with Veritaserum, and those people tried to completely destroy your mind with the Imperio and Confundus Charm, turning you into their puppet!"
"To rescue you, Byrd and the others... even Carrel who infiltrated Hogwarts to coordinate with you... all sacrificed themselves."
"Don’t cry, my girl... it’s not your fault, it’s that Dumbledore’s group is too cunning. We knew it all along, didn’t we? Wizards... are such evil existences..."
"Fortunately, the students at that school don’t know how despicable their headmaster and professors are, and the rescue plan ultimately succeeded, which is the only thing worth celebrating."
"But..." Abigail asked blankly: "Why don’t I remember anything?"
"Because the rescued you, who knows how much torment you suffered, your mind was almost completely broken. So we... had to strip those painful memories from your mind..."
"Stay strong, Serra! Don’t dwell on the shadows of the past any longer! You are our partner, our most important sword! I need you to stay clear and steadfast, for the ultimate purification of this magic-tainted world!"
...
Back then Abigail believed, because everyone around her was her comrade, the ones she trusted the most.
But at this moment, recalling it again, she couldn’t help but grow doubtful.
[Why...]
Recalling the news about Dumbledore, Hogwarts, Vid Gray, and others seen in newspapers and Flow Mirrors, Abigail’s clenched fists unconsciously loosened.
[Why... when I think of that place... I don’t feel instinctive disgust and pain?]
She calmed her mind and once again covertly glanced at the abandoned station.
A corner of the platform was cleared, with parts, metal, and unknown biological bones scattered everywhere, and in the center lay a fire dragon, seemingly dead.
This big guy was so conspicuous that Abigail hadn’t even noticed before that beside the fire dragon was a grayish figure.
The Alchemist Illari suddenly threw down his tool, stood up, and paced anxiously around the fire dragon, even rushing to kick it.
"Get up! You get up! Why don’t you move? At least roar!"
He frantically rubbed his hair, his dark circles deepening as he muttered to himself:
"Why did it fail? Structure, materials, rune sequences... I designed all using the optimal solutions, why can’t it just come to life? Do I have to completely copy Vid Gray’s poppet to succeed?"
"Illari!" Bloren approached and said: "For us, a weapon that can kill is a good weapon, originality or imitation doesn’t matter. This big chunk..."
He glanced coldly at the dead thing on the ground and said: "Even if it moves, it’s just a target, don’t waste more time on it!"
"What do you know?! You don’t study alchemy, you simply don’t understand!"
Illari shouted in frustration: "If you can do big, you can do small! I can’t even figure out such a big fire dragon, how can I compress the rune structure into smaller creatures?"
He seemed on the verge of madness, grabbing his hair and pacing in circles on the ground:
"Ants... Ants... He can even make ants... How in the world does he do it?"
Bloren was momentarily stunned by the shouting, even clearing his eyes a bit. As he looked at the three-meter-long fire dragon and then thought of the Flow Mirror video showing the overwhelming ants and swarms, he suddenly understood some of Illari’s despair and pain.
Illari suddenly turned his gaze to Bloren and said: "Weren’t you being troubled by the IRS, aren’t you done resolving it? Why come to my moldy place? Surely not to admire my failure?"
His rage flared like a fire but Bloren paused silently before saying: "I’m planning to collaborate with Prometheus."
Illari immediately forgot his anger, stumbling back a half step in disbelief: "What? Are you crazy?! Work with those Muggles who want to dissect us?"
"Illari, Muggles can engrave with light on a chip the size of a fingernail, storing information in millions of words." Bloren said calmly.
Illari’s expression instantly changed, instinctively asking: "Really?"
Bloren said: "Of course, I wouldn’t lie to you."
"But...but..." Illari pinched his fingers, hesitating: "How can they genuinely cooperate with us? Don’t get fooled by those people!"
"Of course they will!" Illari sneered and said: "Because we have what they want—poppets with powerful abilities, indistinguishable from real people!"
He tapped the chest of a nearby vampire and said:
"Do you know what those old geezers hiding behind the scenes desire most? It’s a body like this one that won’t age, won’t decay, yet remains agile!"
"What? Even my poppet has to be moved?!" Illari was shocked, instinctively spreading his arms to shield his favorite poppet.
"Listen, genius!" Bloren said: "There’s a crazy theory in Prometheus, they think that if they can completely transfer a person’s consciousness into a poppet, they could achieve a form of immortality!"
"Even if one day, this shell breaks, becomes obsolete... just replace it with a new one, and this distorted form of life can continue."
"And in exchange...we can obtain their resources, intelligence, and political protection in the Muggle world! The IRS? There are always people they can’t touch!"
"Think about it, my friend..."
Bloren’s voice was suffused with manipulation: "As the sole provider of such poppets, you’ll have endless resources for experimentation and research! Plus, you’d get Muggle’s mature micro-precision manufacturing technology for support."
"By that time, what is Vid Gray? You could even surpass Nicolas Flamel and become the greatest alchemist in the world!"
Illari’s breath became heavy, his gaze fixed on his repeatedly trialed Fire Dragon Poppet.
Finally, he slowly lowered his arms, a faint desire flashing in his eyes: "Really... is it possible?"
Bloren looked into his eyes, smiled, then turned his gaze to those poppets wandering aimlessly, seemingly without self-awareness, and said softly: "Of course!"
...
Vid suddenly felt a chill.
He rubbed his arms, got up to pour himself a steaming cup of tea, and was just about to sit down when he heard a knock at the door.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The knocking was unhurried, not like the perpetually bored innkeeper, nor like the innkeeper’s impatient son, naturally not matching Antoine and others’ habits either.
Vid’s heart instinctively tightened, and he waved his wand—
On the wall beside him, originally displaying numerous fragmented scenes of various people walking in and out.
At this moment, all the scenes vanished, leaving the wall stained and watermarked.
A snail, the size of a volleyball, swiftly crawled along the table, swiftly hiding under the coat by the chair.
Vid gripped his magic wand tightly in his right hand, waved, and the door silently slid open—
Albus Dumbledore stood at the door.
The headmaster’s long hair and beard seemed to glow faintly under the light, he had just removed his travel cloak, resting it on his arm, his blue eyes behind the half-moon glasses smiling warmly.
"Good evening, Vid." Dumbledore said lightly: "I hope my sudden visit didn’t disrupt you?"