"What's the strongest prison in the world? Azkaban? Bastille? Or Auschwitz? "
A hoarse and blurry voice came from the dim room. In the middle of the room was a row of stone benches. The benches extended downward at a steep angle, and in the middle of the stone pit was a tall dining table.
An unknown place, an unknown time.
Under the crackling candlelight, the voice slowly surrounded the room, like a lingering ghost.
"Maybe not. When I think of some people living under the same sky as me, my stomach churns."
As soon as the voice fell.
There was a creak.
The door to the dim room opened.
A tall woman in a black suit slowly walked in.
She placed an exquisite silver plate with steak on the stone table and immediately retreated into the darkness. Just as she left.
A blurry shadow appeared in the corner of the room. It seemed to be sitting on a chair, but also seemed to be floating in the air.
Sitting across the table was an old man. His forehead was protruding, and he was as thin as a match. His sparse hair was combed to the back of his head. He looked at the silver plate in front of him without any expression.
"Try it."
The shadow said, "I hope your taste buds haven't aged yet."
The old man raised his trembling arm, picked up the knife and fork, and unsteadily cut the steak. He looked like an old man with one foot in the grave.
The quiet air was filled with the faint sound of chewing and swallowing.
The shadow said, "Two years ago, I was baptized in Hogwarts. I was pressed down by a kid who was so naive that his brain wasn't working well."
After a pause, the shadow smiled.
"But later, that kid left Hogwarts and changed into an arms dealer.
It's said that time makes people grow, but I always feel that time is like a curse to people like us. Don't you think so, Lemour? "
The trembling old man stopped eating and said in a hoarse voice, "Life has a ceiling. For those who touch this ceiling, experience and age are just numbers."
The shadow said, "As expected of an old man about the same age as me. You have a way with words."
"Excuse me."
The old man continued eating.
The black shadow looked at the old man.
The old man cut the steak seriously. His turbid eyes drooped, but when he looked up occasionally, an almost imperceptible glint would flash through his eyes.
After finishing the steak.
The old man took a sip of water and wiped his mouth with a tissue.
The woman in the suit, who had been standing silently beside the shadow, reappeared. She walked to the dining plates and removed the tableware. She took out her wand and tapped it lightly. The lights in the room were slightly brighter.
Nicole Lemay: "I can't do anything about your curse. The Sorcerer's Stone won't help you at all. "
"Haha, I didn't come to find you for such a trivial matter."
"It's nothing. You haven't contacted me for hundreds of years, and now you suddenly called me over from England. What do you want?"
"I want to create a cage that no one can escape from," the shadow said without hesitation. "I want to lock my stumbling block inside the cage."
"Hoffa Bach?"
The old man asked.
"Hehe, that's right."
The black shadow's voice became ethereal as if it was sleep-talking.
"Hoffa Bach, that mysterious guy. It's so boring when I don't see him."
"Hmph."
The old man curled his lips imperceptibly and slowly put his skinny arm on the table.
"With all due respect, I think that a grown-up wizard can't be locked up in any realistic cage."
"Oh, why do you say that?"
The blurry shadow asked with interest.
"Magic isolates the shackles of reality, and growth eliminates the shackles of thought. It's too unrealistic for you to lock a real wizard in a cage. "
The old man said with a sarcastic tone. "After all, you're still living a life worse than death."
The blurry shadow crossed its fingers and leaned forward. There was no answer. The candlelight dimmed, and the room became quiet.
The old man looked at him deeply.
"You can't use magic anymore. The explosion two years ago also exhausted your savings. I advise you to give up. A cage isn't as easy as you think."
After that, he pushed the plate away, stood up shakily, and limped out the door.
He walked to the door and opened it.
"Wait a minute."
A shout came from behind, and the old man stood still.
"What have you been doing recently, Lemay?"
The shadow asked lazily. "Did the newly appointed head of the Ministry of Magic put you in charge of a mysterious research project?"
The old man's fingers that were holding the door handle paused, and a hint of struggle flashed across his face. But soon, the struggle disappeared without a trace.
"That has nothing to do with you."
The old man repeated, "It has nothing to do with me."
"Oh, I'm just asking."
The blurry shadow leaned back on the chair and escaped into the darkness.
"I heard that this project violated a lot of the Sorcerer World's rules."
"The world is already very chaotic, and we need some extraordinary means."
With that, he closed the door and trembled as he left the room with flickering candlelight.
"Send him off."
The shadow whispered.
The woman in the suit followed and caught up with Nicole Lemay.
"I'll send you off," she said.
The bowing old man extended his arm to her.
The woman in the suit took his arm and supported him. They slowly walked down the stairs and came to the outskirts that were as desolate as a mass grave.
There was a carriage pulled by twelve Night Qi horses. Those skinny creatures breathed out white mist in the cold air.
At this time, Nicole Lemay said.
"You shouldn't follow him. Believe me, even the most dangerous and unpopular Sorcerer can't be compared to the darkness hidden in the Corner of the World. He won't treat you as a human."
"I'm his family."
The woman said briefly.
"Do you think he cares about his family?"
Lemay asked.
The woman didn't answer. Instead, she asked.
"What about you? After so many years of baptism, do you still care about these worldly feelings?"
A trace of coldness flashed through Lemay's turbid eyes. He shook off the woman in the suit who was holding his arm and boarded the Night Qi horse carriage.
"I wish you a safe journey."
The woman smiled.
The Night Qi stomped on the ground, spread its black wings, and pulled the carriage into the sky.
In the carriage, the skinny old man breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed on the seat. He reached his hand to his chest and took out a faded gold pocket watch. On the pocket watch was a young red-haired girl holding a doll. She tilted her head and looked at the old man with a smile.
"Chloe."
He called softly.
In France, who knew how many kilometers away, a pair of silver eyes suddenly opened.
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