"You've lost!"

In the early hours of the night, at the mouth of the rain-soaked alley, Mance dusted off his clothes with his bony arms, "Not my opponent. ”

He looked into the distance, and the sky had already risen a hint of fish-belly white, and the day was coming. He picked up the raincoat and gun that had been dropped on the ground, put the Mauser pistol in the mouth of the fallen boy, and decided to wait until the second of daylight to explode his head.

As the night passed, Mance maintained the posture of pulling the trigger at any time, and before the night was over, he could see that the boy's barely human face was slowly squirming and recovering, the bent bridge of his nose was rising again, his bloodied eyes were slowly opening, and his chapped lips were healing little by little.

"Don't resist?" he moved his gun away a little and asked like a friend, "If you want me to say, you can still fight." ”

The pig-headed boy lay on the rain and nodded slowly.

"You don't seem to care, isn't death terrible to you?" Mance asked in the last few minutes before dawn, with some curiosity.

The pig-headed boy shook his head slowly.

"Why don't you speak, the day is coming, and if you don't say anything, you're going to die. After thinking about it, Mance showed a rare hint of gentleness on his face: "If you have any wishes, you can tell me, and I can help you fulfill them." ”

The pig-headed boy pondered for a moment, his lips squirmed, and he didn't make a sound. Out of respect for his opponent, Mance leaned down and put his ear to his mouth.

"I'm sorry......," he said in a faint voice.

I'm sorry?

Why do you say sorry?, Mance straightened up, frowning, and felt that he was not saying this to himself.

At this moment, the cumulonimbus clouds in the sky had completely dissipated, and in the first glimmer of dawn, he saw the shadow of another man in the stagnant water on the ground, who was already standing silently behind him.

The shadow of death, which had been suppressed in the battle, suddenly burst out at this moment and was expanded to the limit.

"Drink!!"

He yelled, trying to scare away the guys behind him or dispel the fear in his own heart.

Time slowed down to the extreme, almost to a complete standstill, but the figure in the stagnant water was not affected in the slightest, it moved slightly.

Poof.

Mance saw a black spike emerge through his body, then pulled out. As the black spike entered the body, some kind of sharp pain turned into a death signal, and it soared into the sky.

......

Thousands of miles away.

In an incense-burning ashram, a man sits cross-legged on a futon in meditation, his long white hair hanging down from his head to his waist.

Suddenly, he snapped open his eyes, drew his black wand, and pointed at the void.

Six burning candles appeared in the room.

But in the middle of the flame of one of the candles, a small black dot appeared, and the black dot expanded at a speed visible to the naked eye, and in an instant, the flame was swallowed up.

"Hee-hee-ha-haha-ha~"

At the same time, an inexplicably strange child's laughter faintly resounded in the meditation room, like the laughter of a naughty child after a successful prank.

The white-haired man watched in amazement as the flame went out and green smoke floated out, and he forgot to breathe for a while.

......

Bournemouth.

At the entrance of the alley, less than 100 meters from the port, Mance clutched his chest. Streams of black gas poured out from the stabbed wound and spread rapidly, as if his body was not filled with red blood, but with a pitch-black gas.

The first time he looked back, there was nothing behind him.

The man who killed himself either fled or went into hiding.

"Impossible...... No way...... I've broken it..... No way!!"

He turned his head frantically, trying to turn back time, but in the flow of black smoke, he found that he couldn't even control his body. He was put on his head against the wall, his body constantly twitching, twisting, struggling....

"Damn!!"

"Why !?"

"I've already done this?"

Uncontrollable, he roared wildly, almost unable to extricate himself in confusion: "Who is it, who is it!?"

No one answered, and a tiny black hole in his chest spread out all over his body, and he could even hear something chewing on his soul. Every bite of chewing takes away a part of memory, and every bite takes away a part of sanity.

Under the weight of death, he completely lost control: "What should I do? What should I do.......?"

At this time, he saw Hoffa lying on the ground, as if he had seen the last straw, and he threw himself on the ground with love, pressed on Hofa, and grabbed his shoulders: "Tell me who it is!

Hoffa fell to the ground, looking at the nascent sunlight and the fading moon in the distance, ignoring Mance's pleas. In fact, the moment he destroyed the mistletoe, he understood everything.

After fighting so many times, he knew quite well the person in front of him who the Muggle was. It was really because of this understanding that he couldn't help but feel an indescribable sympathy from the bottom of his heart. If it weren't for the most tenacious desire to survive, how could it evolve into that terrible desire for control. But all of this quickly fell apart under the time he was playing with.

"Whatever you want, I can give you whatever you want!" Mance pulled Hoffa up from the ground and pressed him against the wall, his thick reluctance making him speak very quickly: "Tell me, who killed me." I can help you kill Grindelwald, I can even help you rewrite history, I can do whatever you want for you, as long as you tell me ......"

Silence.

The boy who was shaken turned his head away, his lips closed and silent, his eyes only sad and sympathetic.

"Tell me!"

"Tell me!"

"Tell me!"

He shouted frantically, his voice trembling with a cry.

"You know right. ”

"Please. ”

"Please......"

.......

The sound gets lower and lower until it disappears completely.

Hoffa didn't utter a word either.

Finally, Mance lowered his head, he let go of his hand, and everything was completely out of control at this moment. Confusion consumed him, and he leaned back. Leaning against the corner of the wall full of stagnant water, he stared blankly at the sky: "Is my vision still too narrow.......?"

He muttered.

The black smoke from his chest filled his head, drifted across his cheeks, and then dissipated into the night sky. After the black qi dissipated, his body completely collapsed, becoming black and thin, skin and bones, and his hair was dry, like a corpse that had been dead for many years.

......

......

As the dawn sun rose, poncho-clad scavengers appeared on the streets of Bournemouth, and a melodious air raid siren sounded in the distance. No one knew that the actual savior of the city had become one with it.

Thick exhaustion welled up in Hoffa's heart, and he sat against the wall beside the small, dark mass of bones of Mance, like two migrant workers who were about to smoke cigarettes on the bricks of the construction site after a hard day's work.

It's finally over.

No one could stop him from sending Chloe back to London.

No one can stop him from fulfilling his long-cherished wishes.

It's just that he can't help but feel lost, and after all this, he is not quite sure what he wants.

A palm pressed against his shoulder.

He looked back and saw that the nun, who had been placed on the roof by him in the distance, had come to him, and she was wet and shivering.

Chloe ......

Hoffa looked at her with mixed feelings in his heart.

Plop.

Chloe sat down on her knees in the water, staring blankly at Mance's huddled bones. After looking at it for a while, she turned her head away and asked Hoffa tremblingly, "Will I go to hell?"

"No, it won't. ”

Hoffa hugged her shoulders, put his head on her forehead, and said softly, "Definitely not." ”

"What does it feel like to kill?" she asked Hoffa a second time, this time in a tone that was much heavier than it had been in Paris.

Hoffa thought for a moment and said seriously: "I will feel that human beings are not so noble, not so sacred, just like other animals in nature, domestic animals. If you get used to it, you will become numb, and you will become, not caring about life and death at all. ”

"Then why is there an executioner? If it's not good. Chloe pushed Hoffa away and looked straight at him.

The question became more and more acute, and Hoffa could barely look her in the eye, and he looked away: "Some souls, destined to burn." It warms others, or burns its fellow human beings.

For the benefit and survival of more people, sometimes a few people have to be sacrificed, and this is the meaning of prison, and this is the meaning of the death penalty. ”

"Yes, you have a point. ”

Chloe looked at him in pain: "But I also sometimes wonder if the murderers, the mad people, the thugs who torture their own kind. If they didn't have the experience they had before, if it weren't for their own tragic experiences, how could they be what they are now, if no one is willing to listen to their voice, if no one is willing to bring them salvation, then there are not more and more such people, and this cycle of life will never end. ”

Hoffa was dumbfounded, he opened his mouth, and he didn't know what to say for a long time.

Chloe looked into his eyes and said in a trembling voice, "Look at me, Hoffa." ”

Hofa looked into the nun's eyes, only to find that a faint silver glow had risen in her eyes, which was a precursor to the rampant of magical power.

"I think... I feel that there may be no one who can answer your question, only God can. ”

"I just want to hear you talk to me now. The nun's voice was filled with fear and confusion.

Hoffa fell into deep thought, this moment. He thought of Adebe Goshak, of Albus Dumbledore, of the Void Dragon, of everything he had learned at the school of witchcraft, of the pain he had experienced, and suddenly he had an answer.

"When I was at Hogwarts, the founder of Ravenclaw, Ronald Ravenclaw, told me to look for the light under the darkness.

I think there is always darkness in the world, just like there is always night. But some will succumb to the darkness and submit to it, and some will see hope in the darkness and work hard.

If you want me to say, it's not that they have a bad life, it's that they have chosen to give in. ”

As he spoke, he raised his head and looked at Chloe's pure silver eyes with fiery eyes: "If you feel that there is something positive in this darkness, then do it, if it will bring light." ”

In a dusty corner, some invisible flame passed from one person to another, and Chloe stared blankly at Hoffa, the first time she had peeked into the soul of the man she had been with for many days.

"I see. ”

Finally, she nodded, untied her red hair, took off her nun hat, and stood up.

Hoffa understood what she was going to do, but he was still a little unbearable, hesitated for a moment and stood up, "Why don't I go with you, I can ...... for you"

He was a little afraid to continue, because he knew that what was about to happen had already happened, and it was not for him to change. She is destined to go back in time, rescue the children of the refugees, and remind herself to abandon the black mistletoe until she finishes the enemy.

Chloe shook her head, and she turned and walked back into Bournemouth. Walking alone into the darkness in the distance, towards the cycle known to Hoffa.