Chapter 439: Anticipating Your Future

Chapter 439: Anticipating Your Future

As Vide looked at Grindelwald, his pupils contracted in an instant.

At this moment, he understood the saying, "Serving a ruler is like serving a tiger." Even if he was ninety-nine percent certain that the person before him would not harm him, the one percent chance of the other's capriciousness, sudden mood swings, and potential insanity still caused his heart to race.

Vide remained silent for several seconds, then, with a heavy heart, he nodded.

"Hmm," Grindelwald said, maintaining his composure and even smiling. "Good, I appreciate your honesty."

His palm still rested on Vide's shoulder, his gaze fixed on the boy's eyes, and he spoke slowly and sincerely, "Vide, you possess an extraordinary talent, a talent that is extremely rare even among wizards."

"I know that you don't adhere to conventions, nor are you bound by your background or upbringing. Instead, you yearn for change and seek something that few others contemplate—truth and justice."

Grindelwald leaned in slightly, his whisper seeming to echo in Vide's ear.

"I'm glad to see a child like you—Muggle or wizard, it makes no difference in your eyes. You value right and wrong, good and evil, yet you're not narrow-minded or foolish. You can see beyond the obvious."

"This makes me wonder... if, ten years from now, you were to lead the wizards, what kind of future would you guide them towards?"

Vide couldn't help but be curious as well—Grindelwald had the ability to foresee the future. Was he truly unaware of Vide's future, or was he using these words to manipulate and entice him?

Then, he remembered that Grindelwald's prophetic ability showed fragmented visions of the future, not the entire truth.

For example, during the election, he had prophesied about the Qilin but had not foreseen his own eventual defeat.

Those who believe in prophecies always seem to be fooled and deceived by fate, a common fate for those who foresee the future and attempt to change it—Vide reminded himself of this, also wondering if Grindelwald had abandoned the prophetic ability that had deceived him several times.

In the blink of an eye, he didn't have time to ponder, but after a moment of hesitation, his eyebrows twitched slightly, as if some ideas or ambitions had emerged due to Grindelwald's recognition and expectations.

Grindelwald didn't intend for Vide to answer right away. Instead, he lowered his hand and asked, like a school professor checking homework, "The books on your bookshelf are all rare gems. How many have you read so far?"

"Three," Vide answered honestly.

Grindelwald glanced at him, as if he could see the boy's greed for knowledge beneath his obedient exterior, and asked meaningfully, "Did you stuff the remaining books into your pockets before leaving today?"

Vide's fingertips twitched, sensing that Grindelwald might have noticed the Invisibility Stretch Charm he had cast on his pockets.

"No," he said. "I used the Replication Charm... Thank you for providing me with so much parchment."

Grindelwald's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Clever... and cunning... Truly a Ravenclaw."

As he spoke, a green light suddenly shot from a blind spot in their vision, aiming at Grindelwald. The dark wizard casually flicked his wand, and a stone flew up to block the Killing Curse.

Then, with a quick flick of his wand, the disguised wizard attempting the attack stiffened and fell to the ground.

Grindelwald paid little attention to this brief interruption and continued, "Once, a British wizard told me that the Ravenclaws in Hogwarts are intelligent but often arrogant and self-preserving."

"I'm glad you possess the strengths of a Ravenclaw without the typical weaknesses. A love for reading and a thirst for knowledge are good habits, but don't limit yourself to specific types of knowledge—both dark magic and light magic have value in learning."

"Take Huo Shin Bao Hu, for example. It can be used to kill or to protect. What determines its purpose is always your own thoughts, not the definitions imposed by others. Even Dumbledore, whom you admire, is proficient in dark magic."

"Since you've taken the books, cherish them and read them carefully. If you have any questions, you can still ask me, just as you did today."

Grindelwald reached out and touched his ear, then placed a small Telegraph Bean in Vide's palm.

Vide realized that this was the same one he had worn when he went to the supermarket, and he hadn't seen it again after waking up. He had assumed it had been discarded or destroyed.

The young wizard hesitated for a moment, then put the Telegraph Bean back in his ear and looked at Grindelwald. "I thought you would stop me... at least not let me go back so soon."

He knew all too well how much he represented in terms of interests.

Even without considering other factors, all of Wizengamot's current technology for hijacking the Mirror Signal came from Vide. If he is released, there's a chance he could upgrade the equipment, patch up loopholes, and create stronger defenses, rendering the "Zero Day Squirrel" ineffective.

"You're too young... Even a ruthless person like Voldemort would laugh at me if I forced a thirteen-year-old to join the Wizengamot."

Grindelwald said, "My expectations for you are for the distant future... And even if I let you go, I don't think you'd leave the battlefield of public opinion entirely to the foolish British Ministry of Magic, wouldn't you?"

Vide nodded. "I understand."

Hearing Grindelwald mention Voldemort, Vide's heart was slightly concerned, feeling as if he had overlooked something.

But that person won't appear for another year and a half, so there's no need to worry prematurely... Moreover, without Peter Pettigrew, whether he can be resurrected or not is another matter.

Vide's thoughts turned, and this notion quickly faded away like a dream he had while sleeping, dissipating swiftly in a short time.

Grindelwald mentioned it casually and then said, "Dumbledore will probably show up with people soon... You can find a chance to leave on your own then."

Although he was speaking to Vide, his eyes flashed with complex meaning. Vide nodded without speaking and quietly took two steps back, distancing himself from the dark wizard leader who was known to be heartless.

...

Donovan wiped the blood from his face and hid among the ruins of a building, watching the battlefield from a distance with horror in his eyes.

Not far away, under a collapsed cement pillar, another werewolf named Crusoe was trapped. One of his arms had been blown off, and he was now charred black, moaning in pain. It was clear he wouldn't last much longer.

Donovan knew that if it weren't for Lady Luck smiling upon him today, he might have been the one lying on the ground, waiting to die.

He was among the first wave of cannon fodder sent out, but Donovan had no intention of dying for the organization. Taking advantage of the fact that ordinary soldiers were reluctant to restrain him, a werewolf, Donovan pretended to hide in the bathroom, secretly observing the situation through the small window and planning to report back to Dumbledore.

It was also because of this that he narrowly survived the paper plane bombing, suffering only minor injuries.

On the distant battlefield, bursts of fire exploded from time to time. Injured and dead wizards were disappearing with their companions, leaving only the bodies of Donovan's nominal comrades on the ground.

The walkie-talkie continued to transmit cold and ruthless orders: "Groups C and F, move forward! Don't be afraid of sacrifice. Remember, your mission is to lead the enemy into the estate... Everything is going according to plan, and victory is still ours..."

Not far away, the werewolf Crusoe took his last breath, finally quieting down with his mouth wide open, ending this long and painful ordeal.

Donovan felt a deep sorrow, as if the death of the rabbit had affected him. He took off his walkie-talkie, threw it on the ground, stomped on it, spat out blood, and left this temporary hiding place.

The wizards on the other side were indeed the ones who killed them.

But the ones who forced them to become werewolves and go out to their deaths were those bastards hiding underground, giving orders! Donovan's hatred was clear. He sent a message to Dumbledore and then sneaked into the underground passage through a hidden entrance.

This place used to be a den of iniquity for certain people. The underground architecture was even larger than the villa above ground, with interconnected passages and a network of pipes above.

Donovan hid his shoes and quickly climbed up to the pipes. After checking the direction, he crawled along the pipes like a nimble cat.

Many well-dressed "socialites" used to frequent this place, and there were soldiers here not long ago, but now it seemed empty, with only occasional glimpses of a team running by.

The organization had some wizards who were especially skilled in erasing and altering memories. Under the influence of magic, these soldiers became puppets of the organization, willing to carry out even suicidal orders without hesitation.

Although memories could be painful, Donovan was grateful that he never forgot who he was.

As he crawled, he suddenly heard voices coming from the room below—

Someone screamed angrily, "What's going on? Those wizards didn't take a single step into the estate! Has someone leaked information?"

Another voice countered, "Only a few people knew about the powerful magnetic field generator hidden in the estate, not even Abigail. Who do you think would betray us?"

A third voice tried to reassure, "Grindelwald is said to be a prophet. He must have foreseen the danger within the estate and that's why he's been reluctant to enter."

He knew that as long as John Adler was still alive, the enemy would eventually show up. After all, that was who they were after.

He didn't miss a single word, a single action, or a single detail in the book.

"That coward has fled!"

"The decoy is still here! As long as the Compound Potion is effective, even Grindelwald won't be able to tell the difference between the real and the fake!"

"If we could use the Compound Potion, why didn't we do it from the start?" someone complained. "Do you know how hard it is for me to endure that arrogant Muggle?"

"I just said they have the ability to make prophecies," another person said impatiently. "If we send the target away in advance, would they still step into the trap?"

"Unfortunately, the magnetic field decayed too quickly... The time powder doesn't seem to work either..."

"I heard that there was a small amount of genuine powder mixed in with the counterfeit, and it dispersed with the wind, so it's normal that it didn't have much effect... The real deal is inside!"

"...So when will they come in?"

Donovan didn't listen any further and quietly crawled away through the pipes.

He knew about those generators. Not long ago, many trucks had secretly driven into the estate in the middle of the night, reportedly carrying weapons specifically designed to counter magical power, which even the most powerful wizards couldn't withstand.

Normally, someone at Donovan's level wouldn't have access to this kind of information, but he had many friends, one of whom was a vampire with exceptional hearing. That guy liked to turn into a bat and wander around at night.

Thinking of the young vampire who had just escaped but then, for some reason, turned around and flew straight into the center of the explosion, Donovan clenched his teeth and continued crawling.

After the vampire saw the generators being unloaded from the trucks, he followed them to their destination. During his break, Donovan praised him a few times, and the vampire told him everything.

Magic could erase one's memories, but it couldn't erase the love for gossip.

As Donovan crawled through several corridors, recalling the terrain and the information he had gathered, he finally saw the enormous, grayish-white machine.

It resembled the lower half of a rocket, with its main structure wrapped up, and several thick and thin pipes connected to its bottom and sides.

Donovan stood in front of the generator and fell silent for a while.

He couldn't understand the structure of the machine, nor did he know what those pipes were for or the purpose of the valves and knobs on top.

But then he thought, he didn't need to learn how to use this thing; he just wanted to destroy it. Destroying machines was a simple task.

Donovan drew his military knife and cut through all the wires he could see, then moved on to the next target.

After cutting the third one, Donovan suddenly heard a faint voice behind him: "Good morning, sir!"

The werewolf was startled, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He jumped up and landed on top of the generator, looking back in shock.

A neatly dressed, one-meter-tall little creature stood on the ground, looking up at him in surprise.

A house-elf? I didn't know there were such creatures in the organization.

Donovan gripped his knife, hesitating whether to pounce and kill the creature, when he noticed another house-elf standing in the corner of the generator, staring at him intently.

Donovan's heart tightened, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

"Don't be afraid, sir. Dobby means no harm," Dobby said politely. "Dobby and Winky can offer you some help."

"But before that, please tell us—" another house-elf, Winky, asked, "You're from the estate, why are you causing trouble in your own place?"

This house-elf wore only a tea towel with an emblem on it, and his stature was even smaller, but his eyes were frightening.

Donovan looked at the emblem with the letter "H" in the middle, and his mind went blank. Unconsciously, he said, "I... I'm actually Dumbledore's man... Who are you?"

"I see."

Winky didn't answer the foolish question. She looked up at the tall generator and said, "Winky heard their conversation. Is this the kind of machine that's dangerous to wizards? Dobby, it seems we need to destroy these things before finding the person."

She extended her slender finger, and the arm-thick pipe snapped instantly.

At the same time, outside the estate on the battlefield, Grindelwald suddenly raised his head, narrowed his eyes, and a stream of scorching flame shot out from the tip of his wand!

In front of him, the air distorted, and a flash of fire revealed a white-haired, bearded wizard. He appeared with a cold expression, his long robe fluttering slightly in the air.

Dumbledore had arrived.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end