Chapter 1061 - 148: A Point to Look Back
The door was closed behind Vid, isolating the indoor light from the damp corridor outside.
As he turned around, Vid asked casually, "Professor, I thought you wouldn’t be leaving the United Kingdom anytime soon."
"They say our friend Tom has an ingenious prison break plan, but he’s likely waiting for the right moment."
Dumbledore draped his Cloak over the coat rack, walked towards the old armchair set by the hotel in the room, sat down, and said:
"So I took the opportunity to come out for a stroll... How’s life for the ’ordinary people’ in the United States? Oh!"
He rose in amazement and then fumbled under the nearby coat to produce a large-eyed snail.
"Sorry, Vid... I didn’t realize you were keeping pets in your clothing."
Vid shrugged helplessly, walked over and took the snail: "Don’t joke around, Professor. I can’t believe you can’t tell it’s just a Poppet."
The snail trembled in Vid’s arms, as if greatly startled, with its wide eyes bent into wavy lines.
Dumbledore leaned forward with interest to look at it, saying seriously to this Amber-colored snail:
"Please forgive my intrusion, little one. I didn’t mean to sit on you."
The Snail Puppet cautiously extended its head from Vid’s palm, its antennae swaying and somehow conveying to everyone—"It’s okay."
"Thank you for your forgiveness," Dumbledore said with a chuckle, then straightened up, shifted his gaze from the snail to Vid’s face, and asked, "Does this lovely little creature not speak?"
"It does," Vid said, "But not every Poppet is talkative; it happens to belong to the kind that is shy and prefers quietness."
He extended his palm, and the snail quickly climbed onto the bed along his fingers, burrowing under the pillow, hiding itself completely, with only a pair of antennae occasionally peeking out.
Dumbledore watched the spectacle, a deep smile in his eyes, as if the weariness from traveling a thousand miles had disappeared.
"Truly very interesting," he said to Vid, "I somewhat understand why you always favor such small animal shapes."
Vid laughed, "Besides being cute, they can make the observers lower their guard. Who would be wary of a little bug under their window sill during a conversation?"
"Such as..." Dumbledore said, "Those little snails covering New York these past days?"
Vid nodded, without any intention to hide it: "Actually, most of them are regular snails—snail eggs can hatch in just a few days under the right temperature and humidity. Before the storm hit, we bred a large number of snails; they are the best cover."
Dumbledore thought of the snail’s quick hiding earlier and understood—even if someone suspected Vid, it would be difficult to pinpoint the Poppet he had arranged.
Because what people can directly see is actually all genuine snails.
Furthermore, he couldn’t help but notice a word—
"We."
Who accompanies Vid, is it his Poppet... or the Witch Pure Party?
In the fleeting moments of Dumbledore’s drifting thoughts, Vid stood up and took out a thick stack of documents.
"Although I came here for the Scourers, after arriving in the United States, I discovered that there’s a far more dangerous and evil organization hiding here than the Scourers—Prometheus."
"Professor, take a look at this first."
Dumbledore received the documents and first noticed the topmost batch with yellowing paper, curled edges, and a layer of fine fuzz from frequent flipping.
This document has existed for a long time... So who handed it to Vid?
Suddenly, a figure of an old friend flashed in his mind.
Anger surged within Dumbledore’s heart, and he then looked towards the following content—
Secret kidnappings, deception, the sale of children showing magical potential, even some unsuspecting adult Wizards became the prey for these people.
Dissection, gene analysis, organ transplantation, chimerism and hybridization, specific virus development, sensory overload experiments...
Every conceivable or unimaginable extreme evil is presented in black and white.
Even in death, "experiment subjects" cannot rest in peace; every part of their remains is used completely.
Turns out, Mabel and others’ experiences weren’t the limit; those people were capable of even more inhumane actions.
The texts alone were hard to describe, not to mention the abundance of blood-soaked images interspersed throughout.
Of course, the victims aren’t just Wizards; the majority are ordinary people—wanderers, marginalized groups, prisoners from defeated countries, even the nation’s "unexplained disappearances" and crippled soldiers.
No distinction of skin color, race, nationality, or belief—all seen by those people as infinite and inexhaustible resources.
Very few, like Harrington, directly used experiments on themselves; most Prometheus members are waiting for the success rate of the experiments to rise to the point of no risk to life.
Before that, countless ordinary people became stepping stones to their victory.
The following documents describe the actions of the deceased during the hurricane event—
Those hypocritical politicians, glamorous socialites, and wealthy magnates, every one of them fully aware of Prometheus’s actions, while all providing support, resources, and eagerly awaiting the day the experiments succeed.
It cannot be denied that Dumbledore rushed to the United States because of the sudden mass deaths in New York, continuously weighing in his mind how to begin this discussion.
However, after viewing the information, the warmth and tolerance in his eyes were replaced by something deeper and colder.
At that moment, even he thought these people... truly deserved to die.
Yet, there was a feeling that they died too easily.
However, looking at Vid afterwards, Dumbledore subtly took a deep breath, suppressing the anger that had surged momentarily back into the depths of his reason.
Vid’s nature itself is somewhat dangerous, with impulse from Grindelwald’s side... They won’t restrain him, only praise his decisiveness, eager to see him forsake morals and principles...
Therefore, Dumbledore mustn’t become the one further igniting the fuse. Yet if only reproach and preach remain, it would be his greatest failure.
He must be a rope, a coordinate to look back on... not letting the young man in front get lost in the storm.