South Seasman Street, London.

A squalid strip adjacent to the residential area, a meandering river hides in a thin mist, and the banks of the river are overgrown with weeds and piles of garbage.

The tall chimney left over from an abandoned mill is the tallest building in the nearby residential area, and in the low-hanging night, the chimney stands tall, eerie, ominous.

There was no sound in all directions, only the black water whimpering in the middle of the night, and no sign of life, except for a lean fox that had stolen the riverbank, sniffing hopefully a few wrappers of fried fish and potato chips in the deep weeds

At this moment, with a soft pop, a slender figure with a hood appeared out of thin air by the river, and the fox was stunned, and a pair of alert eyes stared at this strange new figure.

Standing still, the new figure stared at a wall of bizarre graffiti beside her, looking for some kind of mark in the patterns that had no art or logic to speak of, and after a few moments, she found the information she wanted to confirm.

Nodding in satisfaction, the woman in the gray trench coat looked left and right to make sure that no one was noticed, and then quickly walked into a cobblestone alley.

It's an alley that stretches in all directions, with narrow alleyways, flickering streetlights, and dilapidated houses that are almost identical on both sides, giving people the illusion that they're walking in the same place, no matter how long they've walked.

But the woman in the gray trench coat had a clear purpose, and she sped through the alleyway, the sound of tapping footsteps particularly harsh in the silence. She walked down alley after alley, not at all worried about the evil that might grow in this Muggle settlement, which was mostly shrouded in darkness.

In this way, the woman in the trench coat came to the depths of a labyrinth of broken brick houses, and stopped in front of a house with broken windows nailed by wooden boards.

Looking around, there were not many lights in the room, and the house in front of me had no electric light, and it was only noticeable when you got closer, and the room was flickering with candlelight that had been weakened by oil-soaked gauze and nailed wooden boards.

The woman in the trench coat stood in front of the door for a moment, calming down the breathing disturbance caused by the rapid movement just now, and then, knocking on the wooden door with a layer of pulp attached to the surface at a specific frequency.

"Come in, Jasna, you know I'm the only one-"

A flirtatious voice then came from inside the house.

It was a house that had been painted on several walls in a dark, damp environment for a long time, and the slight vibration of opening the door had caused the peeling paint to turn into dust.

There is only about 20 square meters of living room, bedroom, kitchen and toilet, and there is a gas stove under the wall near the window, and the garbage can next to the stove is full of moldy and rotten potatoes, and next to the bed opposite the entrance door is a flush toilet that is still cracked from the root.

Don't expect a sofa or TV or something like a room like this, with a sloping foot in the center of the room, but the lacquered coffee table is the last decent thing about the room.

After entering the room, Jasina finally removed the hood she was wearing, and curled up in the hood was shoulder-length brown curls that were shoulder-length, and even in the faint candlelight, the shiny brown curls spilled down her shoulders.

She glanced at the room a few times, ignoring the previous sound, leaning against the head of the bed, with her feet crossed on the edge of the bed, admiring a book of sexy women Muggle magazines in her underwear, her eyes fell on a middle-aged man standing in the corner like a hanger.

It is not too accurate to say that middle-aged people are actually judging from the delicacy of the skin on the man's wrists and neck, this man seems to be in his twenties, but the sloppy shirt and embarrassing stubble make it easy to misjudge his age.

Jasina strolled over to the straight man standing like a hanger, and carefully looked at the man's gray skin all over his body, and the bloodshot whites of his eyes turned up, as if admiring a handicraft.

"Good work, Aeschylus--"

After a moment, Jasna's lips moved, and a contemptuous smile tuckled.

"Oh, thank you--"

The blonde young man named Aeschylus said in a nonchalant tone, already indulging in the majestic ravines of those magazines.

"I really don't really understand--"

Jaschyna withdrew her gaze, her hands wrenched behind her back, her body gracefully circled the narrow room, the seductive curves of her plump crotch, and Aeschylus sat up straight like a cat smelling fish, looking greedily at Jasna's writhing hips wrapped in dark blue skinny jeans.

Looking at the room again, her gaze swept over the cracked toilet bowl as if it had been burned, and her indifferent eyes flashed with deep disgust,

"How on earth did these Muggles tolerate such a terrible environment?"

"There's nothing strange about it—"

Gollum –

Aeschylus swallowed,

"Brutes do have an extraordinary tolerance in this regard--"

Aeschylus said, still staring at Jasna with lustful eyes.

"If you dare to look at me like that again, I'll make you the same thing as this Muggle, Aeschylus-"

Jasina finally stopped tolerating Aeschylus' offensive gaze, her face frosty, her wand looming under her cuffs.

As if sensing that Jasina was not lying, Aeschylus reluctantly looked away, however, he kept putting up the magazine in his hand,

"What the hell are you doing here?"

While admiring the hot Muggle women in the magazine, Aeschylus asked lazily.

"Believe me, Aeschylus, I don't want to see you unless I have to--"

Jasina stood up straight, the undulation of the silhouette of her chest tightened the black turtleneck sweater on her upper body,

"Mr. Raman asked me to ask you—"

Jasna's sharp eyes seemed to penetrate the magazine, looking directly at Aeschylus' blue face,

"How's your mission going? Did that thing go out? ”

"What do you say?"

Aeschylus flipped through the pages of the magazine, and he seemed to see something wonderful again, and his crossed legs shook with excitement.

"If that's the case, why are you still here?"

Jasna's voice suddenly became cold,

"You don't think it's safe to hide here. Even if there were only a bunch of idiots left in the British Ministry of Magic, they would be able to track it down. Or do you think that Albus Dumbledore and Amosta Blaine will watch the mudblood warrior die without finding out who is behind it? ”

"Don't be nervous, Jasna—"

Realizing that he couldn't go on any longer, Aeschylus sighed in resignation, rolled up the magazine and slipped it into his pocket, rubbed his reddened eyes, and jumped out of bed and stretched.

"Hogwarts is on vacation right now, and that Hermione Granger will have to wait at least a week to get our 'gift'—"

"If she stays in school, maybe she'll be--"

"I played a little trick—"

Aeschylus picked up his jacket from the end of the bed and said with a slight smugness,

"That thing won't be officially given out until after school starts--"

Jasina paused before continuing,

"Now that you've completed the mission given by Mr. Rahman, let's get out of here, it's a strange thing if the British Ministry of Magic doesn't seal the border in the future, and according to the information we have, Amosta Blaine and Kakus Foley have a lot of relationship, which may mean that the smuggling route we used is no longer safe—"

"Oh-"

Aeschylus raised an eyebrow,

"Oh, thank you, Jasna, for giving me a wake-up call—"

Under Jasina's puzzled gaze, Aeschylus narrowed her blue eyes slightly and smiled playfully,

"Perhaps, I can leave them a little more surprise."

(End of chapter)