They are the proletariat of the wizarding world. There are country magicians who don't have the talent, motivation, or strength to be true wizards, gifted people who know their talents and keep a low profile as much as possible, amateur players, herbalists, holistic healers, and house witches, and miserable young people who are new to their abilities and looking for opportunities to perform. Old and young, whether their faces were insensitive, worried, or frightened, all gathered together. Andrew, even if he didn't know the names of some of them, had seen what they looked like.

Andrew scanned the room. Everyone who was targeted by Andrew avoided Andrew's gaze, and Andrew didn't have to think twice to know what was going on. Word has spread among the magic users, and the world of Harry Potter is nominally operating as usual. The word has spread.

It was as if there was a mark on Andrew's head, and they all knew it. The conflict between the two White Wizards and the Dark Wizard grew stronger, and everyone came here to hide between the narrow space under the cover of obsidian and the tables and columns that deliberately disturbed the magical energy. They came here for refuge until the end of the matter.

But Andrew couldn't have taken refuge here. The Obsidian Bar is unable to protect Andrew from powerful spells. It's like an umbrella, but it's not a bomb shelter. Andrew can't hide what Philip intends to do to Andrew, unless Andrew is willing to hide in the illusion world himself. But for Andrew, hiding in the illusion is in some ways more dangerous than staying in obsidian.

Andrew stood silent for a moment, not saying anything. These people are friends in the same industry and in general, and Andrew can't tell them to stay away from Andrew. Whatever Philip thinks he is, he has the magic of a true wizard, and he will kill them one by one like a cockroach with his foot. They are not prepared to deal with this kind of thing.

"Mike. Andrew finally spoke, his voice striking the silence like a hammer on glass. "I'll have to borrow your car. “

Mike had been wiping his bar with a clean white cloth when Andrew walked in, and his lanky body hung a white shirt and black pants. He continued to wipe his bar even as the room fell silent, even when he pulled the keychain out of his pocket with one hand and tossed it to Andrew. Andrew took the key and said, "Thanks, Mike." “

"Hmm. Mike said. He winked at Andrew, then looked behind him again. Andrew accepted his warning, turned and walked out.

Lightning streaked outside. Morgan's standing silhouette appeared in the doorway at the top of the staircase, his broad silhouette looking dark against the gray sky. He walked down the stairs towards Andrew, and thunder followed. The heavy rain didn't change his dark brown gray hair much, only the curly look of his warrior-like ponytail. Andrew saw that the hilt of his saber should be hidden under his black coat. He gripped the hilt of the sword with his strong, scarred hand.

"Andrew Lee. He said. "I finally figured it out. Killing those people with a storm is crazy and dangerous, and you happen to be the stupid person with the ambition to do it. His chin showed a resolute line. Have a seat. As he spoke, he pointed to a table where all the people who had been sitting had dispersed. "We're both going to stay here. I'm going to make sure you don't get a chance to use this storm to hurt anyone else, and I'm going to make sure you don't play those nasty tricks until your fate is decided. His gray eyes shone with an eerie determination and perseverance.

Andrew glared at him, swallowing Andrew's anger, swallowing the words that Andrew wanted to reward him, and swallowing the spell that Andrew wanted to use to blow him all the way away, Andrew said gently: "Morgan, I know who the murderer is, and I am the next person he wants to kill." If I don't find him now and stop him, I'll be like a dead man. “

His eyes were as grim as a madman. He uttered two clear monosyllabic words: "Sit, down!" and he pulled his sword a few inches out of its scabbard.

Andrew hung his shoulders and turned back to the table. Andrew leaned back on one of the chairs for a moment, allowing it to slightly support the weight of Andrew's injured leg, and then pulled the chair over from the table.

Andrew then lifted the chair and spun it in a half circle to gather the impact, and Andrew smashed it into the stomach of the Overseer. Morgan tried to jump away, but thanks to McMorgan's heavy, sturdy handmade wooden chair, Andrew took advantage of Morgan's unsuspecting blow to hit him directly. In real life, the chair used to smash people will not be broken like in the movie. The one who will shatter is the one who was hit by the chair.

Morgan leaned forward, braced on one hand and knee. Without waiting for him to come to his senses, Andrew took advantage of the force of the chair bouncing off his ribs to go in a full circle in the other direction, lifting the chair high and slamming him down on the back. The blow knocked him to the ground, unable to move.

Andrew put the chair back on the table and looked around, everyone turned pale with fright. They know who Morgan is and they know about his relationship with Andrew. They knew about this secret department of the Ministry of Magic, and they knew about Andrew's grievances with this secret organization. They knew that Andrew had just smashed the official representative of the Ministry of Magic to carry out the execution. Andrew has already signed a death certificate for himself. There was no way to prove to the ministry that Andrew himself was not a wizard who did evil.

"Leave him to death. Andrew said loudly, not targeting a specific person. "I don't have time to think about these things. “

Mike walked out from behind the bar, unhurried, but not as distracted as he usually was. He crouched down beside Morgan, probed his neck, lifted one of his eyelids and examined it closely. Mike squinted at Andrew and said expressionlessly, "Alive." “

Andrew nodded, feeling somewhat reassured. No matter how obnoxious Morgan is, his intentions are always good. Andrew and what he is looking for are actually the same, but he doesn't understand it. Andrew didn't want to kill him.

But in a jubilant corner of Andrew's heart, Andrew admits that when Andrew hit Morgan with a chair, the look of shock on his conceited face was enough to keep Andrew coming back for years to come.

Mike bent down to pick up the keyring, which Andrew had just dropped to the ground when he was swinging his chair. Andrew didn't even notice that Andrew had dropped the key. Mike took the key to Andrew and said, "Some people in the ministry are going crazy." “

"I'll take care of it. “

He nodded. "Good luck, Andrew. Mike held out his hand to Andrew, who shook it. The room was silent, and fearful and worried eyes stared at Andrew.

Andrew took the keys and walked up the stairs, out of the shelter of the Lights and Obsidian Bar, and out into the rain. Lightning was like a dragon swimming in the deep sea, shaking its head and tail across the dark gray sky, the fire in Andrew's eyes was replaced by a gray death breath, he looked at the neon lights that had become blurred, and ran wildly without hesitation.

Andrew ran wild for his life.

Mike's car was a 1989 Pondiac Round, body-in-white, with a large eight-cylinder engine, and the speedometer limit was 130 miles per hour, although in some places Andrew even drove to the point of breaking the meter. It's dangerous to drive so fast in this kind of rain, but Andrew has a good motivation to drive so fast. Andrew's rage is still like a razor-sharp stainless steel saw, allowing Andrew to cut from the ruins of his office to Morgan whenever he encounters obstacles.

It was getting darker and darker, firstly because the rain clouds were forming, and secondly, it was nearly dusk. The sky looked very strange, with a green glow, and when Andrew left the city, the leaves felt too abrupt and harsh, and the yellow divider in the middle of the road was too faint. Most of the cars on the road had their headlights on, and as Andrew sped down the road, the streetlights came on one by one.

Luckily, Sunday evenings weren't too crowded and traffic was fairly smooth. If it had been another day, Andrew would have been stuck in a traffic jam to death. Andrew happened to pass by when the traffic police were on duty, because no half of the traffic police wanted to stop Andrew.

Andrew wanted to turn the radio to the weather station, but then gave up. The storm combined with Andrew's own interference, and there was only one murmur after another from the radio speakers, and nothing was heard about the storm. Now we can only pray that I will arrive in the Waterfront community of Provincestein sooner than the storm.

Andrew won. As Andrew rushed past the signpost at the junction of Eastbourne City and the seaside neighborhood, the curtain created by the heavy rain began to be left behind by Andrew. Andrew applied the brakes and turned onto the lakeside road leading to Philip's mansion. At this point, the car began to skid, and the degree of loss of control was far beyond Andrew's skill and ability to control, but at the last moment, the car slid back to the original road and regained its balance.

Andrew drove into the gravel road in front of Phillip's Mansion, jutting out into the damp little peninsula of the Strait of Dover. The Ring came to an abrupt halt after a puff of earth and a loud roar from the engine, and after a moment of respite fell silent.

At that moment, Andrew suddenly got carried away, thinking that he was Inspector Magnon and the Blue Beetle Superman, Andrew could finally drive this kind of sports car. At least it lasted long enough for Andrew to reach Philip's house. "Thanks, Mike. Andrew whispered and stepped out of the car.

Half of the gravel road leading to the seaside mansion was submerged from the last storm. Andrew's leg was too painful to run, but it saved a lot of trouble by striding down the road with a pair of long legs. The storm approached, rolling in from the sea to the shore - Andrew saw the pouring rains being faintly illuminated by the fading sky light before pouring into the sea.

While Andrew is racing against the Tempest, Andrew is constantly attracting mana and increasing his vigilance, tightening his clockwork to adjust Andrew's sensitivity to the most sensitive level.

Andrew stopped less than twenty yards from the room, closed his eyes and gasped. The area may be littered with traps or sirens, or there may be supernatural or spirit guardians that are invisible to the naked eye. Maybe there's a spell waiting for Andrew, or an illusion that hides Philip from being seen. Andrew had to see through these things, and Andrew needed every piece of broken information that Andrew could get.

So Andrew opened Andrew's third eye.

How would Andrew describe what the wizard sees? That can't be explained in a few words. Describing something is giving it a definition, delineating its boundaries, and setting up guardrails around it. Wizards had the ability to have a third eye at the beginning of time, but they still didn't know how, why, or how it worked.

Andrew can only say that Andrew's gaze was originally covered with a thick cloth, and when Andrew opened his eyes again, the cloth was removed - not only the eyes, but all of Andrew's senses.

Suddenly, Andrew smelled the mud of the sea, the smell of fish, the smell of the trees next to the house, and the refreshing smell of the clouds before the storm. Andrew looked at the trees. When Andrew looked at the trees, he not only felt the first greenery of spring, but also the prosperity of summer, the color of autumn and the barrenness of winter.

Andrew saw the house, and every individual component of the house, every piece of wood cut from the jagged trees, and windows molded out of the sand of the distant beach. Andrew could feel the heat of summer and the cold of winter coming from the surface of the lake. Andrew saw that the house was surrounded by a ghostly flame, and Andrew knew that this might be the future fate of the house, and in an hour the flames would split up and burn down.

The house itself is a source of magic. Dark emotions—greed, lust, hatred—hung above it as if they were visible to the naked eye, mold and sludge scattered around like air grass with an eye for evil. Lonely spirits roam the neighborhood, drawn in by the fear, despair, and anger that pervades the house, and places that attract mindless spirits like a barn attracts mice.

Andrew saw something else above the room, a smirking skull. Skulls can be seen everywhere, and wherever Andrew's gaze goes, a white, dead skull will appear in the corner of his eye. The skulls looked so real that it looked like some fetish was ready for a spooky celebration to drain them. Death. Someone in the house will die, it's not a fantasy, it's a reality, it's unavoidable.