Seeing the gray magic wand on the fireplace, which was a little rough and had tree branch spots, Hoffa almost burst into tears.
His wand, the wand that he had not seen for almost four years, the wand that was taken away by the Half-Human King Silby. Now, it was lying peacefully in front of him.
"Brother …"
The coke bottle fell to the ground. He reached out his trembling hand and grabbed the wand on the fireplace.
However, something inexplicable happened.
When he touched the wand, he did not have the same feeling as when he used his own wand. He could not make it change shape, nor could he use it to cast spells. It was as if the wand in his hand was just a normal tree branch.
After waving it in the air a few times, the joy of reunion was replaced by confusion.
He turned the wand around and looked at it a few times. Without a doubt, this was his wand, the wand without a core that the old man sold him at Ollivander's house. At the end of the wand, there was a deep carving. It was a square-shaped word, "Seal".
However, perhaps because fifty years had passed, the red paint on the character had faded and it had become an ordinary engraving.
"This is my wand."
Hoffa turned around and shouted.
"Yes."
Old Hoffa, who was cooking in the kitchen, replied.
"Why can't I use it?"
Hoffa continued to shout.
There was no reply. There was only the sound of the fire being turned off in the kitchen.
Hoffa put down the wand and went to the kitchen, "You defeated him. Otherwise, how could you take the wand back?"
"Don't ask, you will find out."
Old Hoffa said calmly. He put a handful of chopped green onions into the gurgling iron pot. Then, he put the iron pot on the table and said gently, "You must be hungry. Eat something first."
Seeing him slowly put three dishes and a soup on the table and take off his apron, young Hoffa gritted his teeth and sat down.
The dishes were simple. A portion of sweet and sour pork ribs, a portion of mutton and radish soup, a bowl of stir-fried vegetable salad, and a few kinds of pickles.
???? "Here, have a taste." Old Hoffa pointed at the sweet and sour pork ribs on his left.
???? The young Hoffa was still a little confused, but he did not refuse. He picked up his chopsticks, picked up a piece of pork rib, brought it to his mouth, and took a small bite.
???? The sweetness and sourness of the sugar coating and the rich aroma of the gravy permeated the air at the same time, causing him to chew subconsciously. In just a few bites, he finished the rib. At this moment, he even forgot about the threat of death.
???? "Try the soup." Old Hoffa thoughtfully scooped a bowl of mutton soup for him. There were a few green onions sprinkled on top of the steaming soup, making people salivate at the smell.
The young Hoffa's eyes were filled with anticipation. He took the bowl, carefully picked up a piece of mutton, and put it into his mouth.
It had been stewed until it was rather mushy, and as soon as it entered the mouth, it felt like it was going to melt. The true fragrance of the meat exploded, and wonderful juices flowed out, filling the mouth. Coupled with the fragrance of the radishes and the freshness of the onions, it was simply indescribable.
He shuddered. This was real Chinese food. After coming to this world for so long, it was the first time he had eaten such authentic Chinese cuisine. He had to admit that his old age's culinary skills were very particular.
Under the illumination of the delicious food, he temporarily forgot about the threat of the time flares and quietly enjoyed this wonderful first meal from 50 years later.
While he was eating, Old Hoffa sat beside him, silently scooping soup and adding rice for him. Occasionally, he would eat a few mouthfuls. The tacit understanding was like a pair of father and son who had been separated for many years.
Outside, the 1994 sunset was quiet, gentle, and warm. There were no air raid sirens, no tanks rumbling by, and no planes flying across the sky. There were only pigeons chattering under the eaves, and a few neighbors chatting downstairs with their dogs. The content of their conversation was mostly related to the weather and their children's studies.
Inside the room, the two of them finished their meal in silence. Old Hoffa got up to clean up the dishes and went to the kitchen to wash them.
After filling his stomach, young Hoffa's worries surged into his mind again. This was the most satisfying meal he had eaten in the past few years. If it wasn't for the Sword of Damocles hanging high in the sky, perhaps he would have given a thumbs up and praised his future culinary skills.
But now, he had too many doubts, and he was looking forward to his old age to explain it to him.
Finally, after washing the dishes, Old Hoffa returned to the dining table.
Young Hoffa immediately straightened up. "Can we talk now?"
As if their minds were connected, the old man raised his hand and said with a smile, "Don't say anything first. How about I ask you a few questions first?"
"What do you want to ask?"
"Stay here." The gray-haired old man in front of him smiled. "I'll be your father."
"Ah!?"
Huo Fa was dumbfounded by the old man's sudden words.
"It's been more than 60 years. I've experienced everything, but I don't have a child, and no one has called me father. This is one of the biggest regrets of my life. Do you want to call me that?"
"F * ck, can we talk about serious matters?" Hoffa sighed. Looking at the old man's smiling face, he felt helpless. At this time, he still had to joke around.
"Don't be like that." Old Hoffa spread out his hands, feeling wronged. "You see, we have the same blood flowing in our veins, and we have the same surname. The only difference is that I'm 50 years older than you. What's wrong with calling me father?"
"Are you crazy!"
Hoffa suppressed his displeasure and scolded with the mildest words he could find.
However, Old Hoffa in front of him took out a pure gold key from his pocket and said with a smile, "I have savings worth more than 3 million gold coins in Gringotts, waiting for someone to inherit it."
Hoffa immediately squeezed out a smile. "Father."
"Hahaha!"
The old man laughed loudly.
Young Hoffa couldn't help but laugh as well. But after laughing for a second, his face turned ashen. He sighed. "Enough joking."
He tore open the clothes on his chest. Below his collarbone, his chest was almost invisible. Only a strangely shaped heart could be seen beating in his transparent chest. He rubbed his palms, and countless sparkling fragments floated down from his palms.
"At a time like this, just tell me. How can I survive?"
Old Hoffa kept the gold key and combed his hair indifferently. "Actually, I've studied the power of time. There's only one situation where a time flare appears, and that's unprotected space-time travel."
"Unprotected space-time travel, what do you mean?"
"Time is like a running train. Everyone's seat on this train is fixed. Some people are at the front of the train, some are in the middle, and some are at the back. If you're strong enough, you can move within the train. But you can't be at the front and the back at the same time.
There are two Hoffa Bachs in this space-time, but we're not Chloe, and we don't have her magical blood of law. There can't be two of us at the same time. That's why a time flare appears. It's a manifestation of extreme uncertainty. There are too many chaotic futures in your body. The law of this world doesn't allow for so much uncertainty. "
Hoffa thought for a moment and frowned. "Why can Harry do it, but I can't?"
"Harry and Hermione have a space-time converter from the Ministry of Magic. It's also a protective machine, like an oxygen tank in the deep sea."
"You have a time converter?"
"No, it's too weak. It can't withstand fifty years of law power."
"Then what can we do?"
"It's simple."
Old Hoffa took out a Citibank card from his pocket and placed it in young Hoffa's palm. "The password is 19940724, which is today's date."
"Why are you giving me money?"
Hoffa looked at him blankly. "I'm going to die."
The old Huo Fa held his hand softly and moved his head close to his ear. He said in an extremely low voice, "You must remember my words. People don't die when they can, but when they should."
After that, he slowly stepped back and sat on the chair.
Young Hoffa looked at him blankly.
The setting sun shone through the window and shone on the old man's face, adding a mysterious color to his old face.
The old man in front of him calmly adjusted his white T-shirt and sat on the chair. Then, he took out a silver revolver from his jeans pocket.
He smiled and even looked at young Hoffa with some mischievous interest. He stuffed the silver revolver into his mouth.
"Hey …"
"Hey!!"
An extremely bad premonition surged in his heart. Hoffa's eyes suddenly widened. He jumped down from the chair and reached out to grab the gun.
It was accompanied by a clear gunshot that was neither too loud nor too soft.
Bang!!
Hoffa, who reached out his hand, was petrified on the spot.
Outside the house, the sun was setting. Several neighbors finished chatting. They smiled and waved to each other, and leisurely walked home with the dogs. The pigeons in the yard were still chirping, waiting for their owners to feed them.
Inside the house, the clock on the wall ticked.
A few drops of blood slowly fell from the gray-haired young man's face. His eyes were wide open, and his face was as pale as a statue.
1,600 kilometers away, Nurmengard, Austria.
Crows were perched on top of the tower, and a red moon hung in the sky, swallowed by dark clouds. In a room at the top of the tower that had been sealed for a long time, a skinny figure suddenly woke up.
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