Chapter 297: Mihal: Let's Stretch a Little?
“Yes,” the other man replied respectfully. “The Book of Friends and the recent Streaming Mirror were both his inventions… I’ve interacted with him before. I can confirm this is indeed him.”
If it weren’t for the Golden Sparks clinging to his palm—slowing his reactions significantly—Wade would’ve surely given himself away in that moment.
That voice… he’d just heard it only a few days ago.
Will from Aslan Magical Workshop.
So this was the real reason they’d come for him? Not some test drug… but an infiltration of this private gathering, to kidnap The Alchemist?
The man who’d asked earlier let out a soft chuckle. “That Book of Friends isn’t much. Just a parchment version of a walkie-talkie. But the Streaming Mirror? That’s something else… The leader values it highly.”
“But the most important is the Magic Puppet,” Counter stepped forward, her voice cold. “Wizards treating them like pets—what fools! A little modification, and they become war machines!”
“So we need more The Alchemists… but most of all, we need Wade Gray.”
The man leaned down, took Wade’s wand, then hoisted him up, saying, “Still, it’s hard to believe the inventor is such a tiny child.”
“Geniuses have always existed,” his companion replied. “Mozart played complete piano pieces at six.”
“Be careful!” Counter suddenly snapped. “Do you know how valuable his head is? Break it, and even if you cut off your own head, it won’t make up for it.”
“Got it,” the man muttered, then lifted Wade into his arms, carefully cradling his head to prevent it from hitting the wall.
As they approached, Wade noticed that beneath their clothing, everyone wore tight-fitting suits resembling underwater gear—gloves on their hands, masks over their heads, and something like a breathing apparatus inside the masks.
A faint realization dawned on him: these people themselves didn’t dare touch the Golden Sparks directly.
The man carried him into the narrow tunnel behind the portrait. Light immediately dimmed, and Wade quietly rubbed the Sparks off his palm, squinting around in the gloom.
The tunnel was damp and cold, the ground uneven, walls pockmarked with digging marks. Every ten or so meters, a dim, flickering light hung from the ceiling.
Their eyes seemed sharp—able to navigate the darkness with ease.
Professor Mor was just behind, dragged along by his arms, his feet scraping against the ground. But the kidnappers still cared about his head, avoiding any hard impacts.
Wade relaxed slightly, closed his eyes, and feigned unconsciousness.
The Sparks’ effect was strange—initially unremarkable, but growing stronger over time. Even now that he’d wiped them off, he hadn’t fully recovered. His blood felt sluggish, as if moving slower than usual.
After a long while, the far end of the tunnel brightened suddenly. The man paused, waited for his eyes to adjust, then stepped through.
“Huh?” someone greeted, surprised. “So this is…?”
“Yes, it’s him.”
“Did we really get him?” the newcomer whistled. “He’s been under Dumbledore’s protection. The leader never expected we’d succeed… but we actually did.”
“And no casualties,” Will added, stepping out of the tunnel with a grin. “That thing’s incredible! With something like this, what’s there left for wizards to fear?”
“Don’t get careless,” the other warned. “We’re still in Britain. Move fast—before Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic react, we need to get everyone inside out.”
Wade felt himself shoved into a vehicle, pressed tightly against another person.
“Shouldn’t we bind them?” someone worried. “Wizards are unpredictable. This car has no Apparition-blocking spell.”
“No need,” came the reply. “As long as the Gold Powder stays on them, they won’t wake up. Even if they did, handcuffs and ropes wouldn’t matter. Just take their wands. Let’s get moving!”
The group moved swiftly, shoving the rest into the vehicle, then slammed the door shut with a heavy clang.
Moments later, Wade felt the jolt of the engine starting.
He cracked one eye open, glancing around.
It was a cargo van, the floor covered with stinking pillows. The Alchemists lay side by side on the pillows, like corpses prepared for burial.
No one else was inside—these guys clearly feared the Gold Powder, yet trusted it so completely they hadn’t dared crawl in.
That was convenient for Wade.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a tiny pouch—his pocket had an Invisible Expansion Charm, not huge, but enough to fit a small bag.
The pouch fell to the floor, trembled, then rapidly expanded, unfolding into the shape of a closet. The van’s ceiling was high enough.
Wade pulled out a spare wand, waved it gently, and the entire group of Alchemists floated into the closet’s space.
He hesitated, then didn’t immediately remove the Gold Powder from the others. Instead, he gently lifted the residue from Professor Mor using a tiny whirlwind, sealing it into a crystal vial.
From his own experience, he knew Professor Mor wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.
Inside the closet, the Magic Puppets gathered around him, pressing close in warmth, some even peering curiously at the people lying on the ground.
Then, the small cat playing on Orlando suddenly froze—its movements stopped. With a soft thud, it collapsed.
The others recoiled in alarm, scattering away from the group, glaring at Wade with silent, accusatory eyes—blaming him for bringing in a dangerous intruder.
The commotion disturbed Firebird Mihal, who flew over, tilting its head curiously.
A single drifting spark landed on its feathers—instead of burning, it clung there like a tiny decorative accent.
Wade’s eyes flickered.
He plucked a speck between his fingers, murmuring, “Inferno Flame can’t even ignite it… What is this?”
Mihal tilted its head, then suddenly opened its beak wide, letting out a dramatic yawn.
Wade waved his wand, brushing the spark off its body, and smiled. “Mihal, bored in here?”
Mihal looked at him, letting out a soft chirp.
“We’ll go out and stretch a little soon,” Wade said. “And our enthusiastic little friends… they might need more room to play.”
His gaze flickered slightly, landing on the corner—where several Acromantulas, imprisoned for a long time, were now tearing at each other in a frenzy.
(End of Chapter)
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