Chapter 674: 674: The War by Muggles Against the Wizarding World

The Wick residence.

"The world is still a mess."

Watson held a bottle of soda while Ariana sat nearby, staring resentfully at the television.

"Ariana, I bought some new flavours of soda."

Ariana cheered and ran toward the refrigerator.

Temporarily reclaiming control of the television from his daughter, Watson watched the reports about Poland with some emotion.

"Hmph!"

Kiki stared at the cabbage in front of it with complete refusal written across its face.

But the grudge-holding Ariana insisted that it finish eating.

Ariana was secretly snickering in satisfaction when a hand knocked lightly against her head.

She turned around and saw Mrs. Wick, who had caught her drinking soda.

Ariana immediately pushed the soda in front of Kiki, pointed at it, and said, "Mum, it stole my soda!"

Mrs. Wick: "..."

I knew I shouldn't have let my husband look after the child.

So while Watson was still watching television, Mrs. Wick grabbed him by the ear and gave him a scolding.

Outside the window, Dudley jogged past while throwing punches as he ran.

"It is reported that the massive explosion in Warsaw may have been caused by a gas pipeline leak. However, the international terrorist organisation known as the Ten Rings has claimed responsibility for the incident. The entire world is closely monitoring further developments."

The news continued playing on the television.

A hand pressed the remote and switched it off.

Mycroft sat there with his hand beneath his chin, lost in thought.

On the table before him lay a wooden plaque with one corner burned black.

It was something an agent had brought back from the surviving building in Warsaw.

Testing had confirmed that it was simply wood, specifically rowan wood.

But strangely, there was an unusual magnetic field around it, seemingly produced by some kind of energy.

That was what had allowed it to survive the explosion with relatively little damage.

That force was gradually disappearing.

"Runes."

He picked up the piece of wood and examined the writing on it.

Even someone as knowledgeable as Mycroft could only vaguely determine that the symbols belonged to some form of runic script.

The explosion in Warsaw had been no weaker than one of the two US parcels once dropped on Japan, yet strangely, most of the force had been neutralised and absorbed.

It was as though the blast had broken through some kind of barrier, causing a large portion of its power to dissipate.

A piece of land appearing out of nowhere was among the strangest things Mycroft had encountered in all his years of government service.

There was no chance Poland could monopolise the investigation.

Plenty of agencies had done the same as Mycroft, sending agents and even activating spies embedded in foreign countries.

Objects similar to this piece of wood would undoubtedly appear in intelligence agencies across the world.

Knock, knock.

Mycroft's thoughts were interrupted.

He looked up and saw his superior enter.

"Prime Minister."

Mycroft was somewhat surprised.

The Prime Minister walked over, his gaze immediately settling on the piece of wood.

"This is a miracle."

He stopped in front of the table. He had come alone.

"May I touch it?"

"Of course. Please."

Mycroft wielded considerable authority and could sometimes even represent Britain itself.

For that reason, the Prime Minister gave him sufficient respect. After all, the Prime Minister would be replaced in a few years, while Mycroft would remain for much longer.

"You know," the Prime Minister said to himself as he picked up the piece of wood, "when I was a child, my mother used to tell me stories about witches."

"Yes. Witches. Snow White's stepmother."

A trace of impatience flashed through Mycroft's eyes.

Stories like that were practically known by everyone in Europe.

He had no interest in hearing what dear old Mother had once told the Prime Minister.

"Witches had magic. They could wave a hand and make someone sleep forever, things like that." The Prime Minister, perceptive as ever, put the wooden piece back down and suddenly asked, "Do you remember that tall black assistant of mine?"

"Tall and black? Kingsley Shacklebolt?" Mycroft's memory was extraordinary, and he immediately remembered who he meant. "The one who left a few years ago?"

"Yes. Him."

The Prime Minister sat down across from Mycroft, interlacing his fingers on the table as his thumbs rubbed against each other.

"Do you believe in magic? I mean... wizards."

He looked at Mycroft.

Mycroft studied the Prime Minister, then laughed as though the idea were absurd. "You're not about to tell me Shacklebolt was a wizard, are you?"

"Yes." The Prime Minister glanced toward the door. "You may find it ridiculous, but every Prime Minister has had dealings with certain wizards."

"So?" Mycroft absorbed the shock of the information. "You're saying there are wizards around the Prime Minister?"

"No. They aren't assigned by the Prime Minister." The Prime Minister shook his head. "As far as I know, the wizarding world has its own form of government, and Shacklebolt was one of its members."

"He infiltrated my staff and became my assistant."

The Prime Minister smiled bitterly. "I only found out two years ago that someone beside me was actually a wizard. He told me he had been protecting me."

"This is absurd." Mycroft pondered for a moment. "What exactly are you trying to tell me?"

The Prime Minister looked around, seemingly afraid that a wizard might suddenly appear.

He leaned closer to Mycroft and lowered his voice.

"Those people are all around us."

He tapped the wooden piece with a finger.

"We don't know them, but they know us."

Mycroft's thoughts stirred.

He picked up the piece of wood again.

"Magic... Wizards..." he muttered.

If the explosion in Poland had been caused by wizards, then that would be an extremely frightening development for every country in the world.

"There were corpses on that land that appeared," Mycroft said calmly. "Wizards are not immortal."

The Prime Minister nodded.

No one knew that when he had once seen a wizard appear through the fireplace inside one of the most heavily guarded offices in the world, his entire back had been drenched in cold sweat.

The place with some of the highest security in the world had meant nothing to those wizards.

They had been so arrogant that they seemed to regard him as nothing more than an insect.

From that moment onward, a seed had been planted in his heart.

A seed of mystery surrounding wizards.

Until today, when he saw what had happened in Poland.

Wizards, it seemed, were not quite so mysterious after all.

They could not escape death either.

Under the power of technology, even wizards could find themselves with nowhere to hide.

A secret operation quietly began in Britain, centred around Downing Street.

The piece of wood was placed inside MI6's highest-security classified archive.

It was stored beside the records codenamed Zero.

And similar things were quietly happening in countries around the world.

The contact between wizards and Muggle presidents was not only meant to make it easier to conceal the existence of wizards, but more importantly, to preserve that sense of mystery.

But now, that mystery had been broken.

Wizards had become potential enemies in the eyes of Muggles.

It had not yet reached the point of hunting wizards, but investigations into their existence had already begun.

Take the British Prime Minister, for example. A wizard had served as his assistant, yet he had known nothing about it until the man revealed his identity himself.

That was terrifying.

If they were not still wary of the mystery that had been built up over so many years, things would probably have gone far beyond simple investigation.

Mycroft was the architect of Britain's operation.

He gave it a name: Wizard Infiltration.

Mycroft said, "Pay close attention. There may be wizards around us already."

"We need to learn more."

"How wizards live. What they can do. Their... hostility."

Yes.

Grindelwald's plan had worked.

Once enough was understood, the weaker side would die.

What wizards could do was display enough strength to resist once they sensed Muggle hostility.

Wizards might not start the war.

But Muggles would.

In a few more years, satellites in the sky would uncover the hidden wizarding settlements.

Satellites and surveillance systems would cover the entire world.

Would wizards still have any place left to survive?

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