Compared with the singing and dancing in Britain, some parts of the world have become a scorched earth.
Death filled the manor, and flames lit up the three-hundred-year-old house.
In front of the fire, little Barty was calm.
"Captain Crouch, he has something to say."
The Auror dragged a bound saint over.
Barty Jr. waved his wand and the Saint regained his ability to speak.
This is a witch, her face is stained with dust, but she can tell she has good looks.
She looked at the fire and roared heartbreakingly: "My brother, my brother is still there!"
"He is innocent. He was just confused by me. He has just turned eleven!"
The female saint shouted hoarsely, hoping that this cold-blooded and ruthless man would be noble.
"So... you are willing to die for him?"
Little Barty looked at the female saint, with a bone-chilling chill in his voice.
"Of course!" the female saint replied without hesitation.
Little Barty slowly knelt down and looked at the beautiful face of the female saint.
He stretched out his hand to lift the long hair of the female saint and said in a hoarse voice: "Then why did you make him a saint?"
"I..." The female saint's voice was stuck in her throat.
Because she saw the look of the person in front of her without any mercy.
"It was you who killed him," Barty Jr.'s voice sounded like a demon. "It was you who made him the most damned guy in the world. You erased my sympathy for him."
"It was you, you killed him, your dear brother, he was struggling in the flames, you would see his skin burned off, you would see his body, maybe huddled in a corner, or in the fireplace Or maybe under the bed.”
The female saint roared: "No! You can't do this, he is still a child!"
"He's not a child, have you forgotten? It was you who turned him into a damn little beast!"
Little Barty grabbed the female saint's hair and dragged her to the house sealed by flames.
He pulled her up forcefully and made her watch her family wailing in the fire.
"Your recklessness and your doing whatever you want will all be reflected on your family!"
"He should have gone to the magic school next year, enjoying favorable conditions and no disasters. The king's mercy will shine on him, and he will get everything he deserves!"
"It's you!"
"You destroyed him! You destroyed this family! You destroyed this world!"
The anger on Little Barty's face was visible to the naked eye, and he swung hard, causing the frightened Saint to come into close contact with the ground.
Little Barty stepped on her head with his foot and said in a cold voice: "When you become a saint, all of this will be destroyed because of you."
"Just like the families you hurt."
He kicked the female saint on the head one after another.
"elder sister!"
The female saint's nose was broken, and she looked up with difficulty.
The burning brother was lying in front, less than ten meters away from the door.
His body was burned black, but he struggled to crawl over.
The flames engulfed him completely.
"No--!"
That is more painful than death.
The female saint regretted, regretting that her brain was hot.
Regret my so-called ideal.
She has a happy family, her parents are still alive, and her younger brother is a troublemaker.
This moment, with the flames, no, with the moment she became a saint, was destroyed.
After little Barty had done everything, he looked at the Aurors calmly and said, "Don't let her die. She needs to tell everything."
"I don't mind if she's sane or crazy." His words already told everyone the ending of the female saint.
The flames gradually died down as the combustibles disappeared.
Little Barty stood there quietly, looking at the dead family of three.
There was some fluctuation in his eyes.
"I once had such a family."
A stupid choice that left my mother dead in Azkaban.
His father died under that so-called ideal sacrifice.
...
Barty Jr. was so violent that John even received a complaint.
The Slovak Minister of Magic banged the table and roared about Barty Jr.'s crime.
"That was a kid, eleven years old!" he said angrily. "He was supposed to go to magic school next year, but he was burned alive in the house with his parents!"
Representatives from various countries also criticized it, saying that all children are innocent.
John glanced over calmly, and the whispers disappeared.
Looking at the angry Slovak Minister of Magic, John said calmly: "So you think that the eleven-year-old saint should be pardoned?"
"Yes, Sir Wick!" the Minister of Magic said in a very angry tone.
John wasn't angry either, he just said: "Eleven years old."
"He will enter one of the three magic schools in Europe next year with that so-called ideal."
"Maybe Hogwarts, maybe Durmstrang, or Beauxbatons."
His voice was neither soft nor strong, but it made everyone listen attentively.
"He will influence those pure little wizards and make them listen to those ideals, the future world, and the harm of Muggles."
"He will grow up and plant a seed in his heart. He will know how to deal with a wizard. He will use a wand to gently recite a crushing spell on the young wizard's back. He doesn't even need a wand. He can secretly do it during dinner time. Take a fork or a knife, wait until his roommates, other people's children are asleep, and gently scratch their necks."
John's tone of voice remained unchanged throughout.
But it makes people gradually become colder.
"The Saints are a bunch of lunatics," John looked at the Slovak Minister of Magic. "Should an eleven-year-old lunatic be exempted from sanctions?"
At this time, the Slovak Minister of Magic could no longer be tough. He lowered his voice and said, "We should give him a chance."
"Opportunity?" John sighed, "Did your opportunity come from countless families and young wizards who died during the Saint attack? Or is it just your sudden compassionate heart?"
The Slovak Minister of Magic stopped talking.
John looked at the others: "Everyone, I am not a person who likes killing, but under the killing, I can let those innocent wizards gain peace."
"So I can appreciate the sympathy you have for the little saint."
"Our world is on the verge of collapse, and before us is a single-plank bridge with no way out."
"Those evil people are selfish. If we don't let them see our determination, then these people will take chances."
He glanced at some of the people who had lowered their heads.
"After all, some ridiculous and clumsy lies once became the excuse for criminals who took lives to escape."
He was talking about Voldemort's time, a time so ridiculous that the Ministry of Magic could buy indulgences with gold.
If those people were not completely eradicated, they would reappear more than ten years later to build momentum for their Dark Lord.
John knocked on the table, asking everyone to look over.
He stood up and said: "Put away your kindness and show it to the person you should show it to."
"I can give you, no, give your kindness a chance."
He said calmly: "Those who have joined the saints, as long as they can provide sufficient information and are not involved in murder cases, I can treat them leniently."
"However, they need to accept punishment. If they leave a life or die, you go back and convey it to those people."
John left the table and walked out.
Percy glanced at everyone and stood up to leave.
Charles Roland hurriedly caught up, "Wait a minute, Lord Wick, can you prove that you are controlled by the Imperius Curse?"
"Lord Wick is right," German Minister of Magic Gresham said solemnly, "Our kindness is given to those in need, those simple villains, let them burn to ashes in the fire."
He stood up and left, glanced at Yalefan, and then walked out.
Members of the International Confederation of Wizards are leaving one after another.
They all saw the leader's determination.
Kindness is reserved for those in need.
Just like John Wick, leave mercy to the wizards.
Yalefan was the last to leave.
He looked at the seat.
If it were Dumbledore, he would never say that.
He would get that kid into school.
Instead of letting the whole family become corpses.
But what happens next?
"He is not kind, but he is right." Yalefan exhaled heavily.
He got up and left.
The magical world does not need benevolent leaders, what they need is leaders who lead them on the right path.
Dumbledore couldn't do this.
Only John Wick can.
Yalefan gave up the little bit of rebellion in his heart.
...
Lucius was excited.
Because he learned the inside information in advance.
The Quidditch Committee will approve the league system.
This means that the three Quidditch clubs he acquired will achieve maximum development.
And John also told him a piece of news.
The British Wizarding League will elect a capable person in charge, and the nomination of this person in charge must be obtained by Lucius himself.
As long as he manages the Department of Magical Sports and Sports, the League Club and the Quidditch Committee, he can get this position.
This basically tells him that he's going to be in charge.
Who doesn't know that Bagman has to give himself face, and Mentor of the Quidditch Committee will definitely look at the second king's face.
League club?
Go talk to the Ancient Alliance yourself.
The position is secure!
...
