Hörheim, Kingdom of the Dead. A black star flickered and covered the white star on the other side like a black hole.
Hoffa looked at the exit at the top and saw the man who kept frog-hopping but couldn't get out no matter how hard he tried. If the creator of resurrection, Cadmus Pévlier, was hung on the Path of Thorns, how could he, who had the same idea, escape from the eyes of the Grim Reaper?
He only came back to his senses when Buddy Jr nudged him.
"She's gone," Buddy Jr said.
It turned out that when he was looking at the frog-hopping man, the silver-haired spirit had quietly floated down the Path of Thorns. She was almost out of sight.
"Hey, Aglaia, wait for me."
Hoffa quickly waved his hand and chased after her. However, when he reached the bottom of the Path of Thorns, the silver-haired spirit climbed onto the long-eared rabbit floating in the sky and flew straight down, completely ignoring Hoffa and Buddy Jr.
"What should we do?"
A cold wind blew. The two abandoned men looked at the bottomless abyss below their feet and looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
Hoffa didn't expect Aglaia to abandon them like this. She left without looking back. She was so heartless that he couldn't guess what she was thinking.
Just when they didn't know what to do, a rumbling sound came from above. A huge round stone rolled down from the Path of Thorns and crashed into the stone pillar at the bottom of the platform with a loud bang.
Not long after, a man with bronze-colored muscles walked down from a high place and came to the side of the huge boulder. He pressed his hand on the boulder and lifted it up with great effort. Then, he rolled the boulder and pushed it up a slope. Hoffa saw a twisted face. His cheeks were pressed against the boulder, his shoulders were supporting the boulder that was covered in mud, and his feet were covered in scars. It was the man who pushed the boulder endlessly, Sisyphus.
"Eh? Uncle?"
Hoffa saw hope and hurriedly ran to Sisyphus's side. He bent down and asked the man who was sweating profusely under the huge rock, "May I know how to get down from here?"
Sisyphus, who was pushing the rock, glanced at him. "Jump."
"It's so high. I'll definitely die if I jump down."
Buddy Jr. said immediately.
"But you're already dead," Sisyphus said as he continued to push the rock like a dung beetle.
"This …" Buddy Jr. wanted to ask more questions, but he didn't know how to refute.
Hoffa quickly nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Uncle."
Sisyphus ignored him and continued to push the stone up, his eyes only focused on the stone.
The two of them walked towards the end of the Path of Thorns, looking back three times with every step. As they walked, Hoffa couldn't help but feel puzzled. He went back and caught up with Sisyphus, who was pushing the rock. "Wait a moment, Uncle."
"Hmm?"
"Why don't you jump?"
The man pushing the rock asked with a smile, "Why should I jump?"
"Your feet are so broken." Hoffa pointed at his bloody feet. "And this rock … How many years have you been pushing it?"
Sisyphus smiled even more happily when he heard this. He carried the huge rock on his shoulder and stopped on the Path of Thorns. He smiled and asked Hoffa, "Do you think the people on this path are miserable?"
Hoffa listened to Prometheus's screams in the distance and couldn't help but nod. He said sadly, "It's too miserable."
"No." Sisyphus shook his head. "The people who are truly miserable are the people below. It's better to be numb to the pain and exhaustion. Look, this is my job. Although I've always failed, it's still a goal. "
With that, he pushed the rock with a smile and slowly walked up the mountain. With heavy and steady steps, he walked towards a torture that he would never know the end of.
Hoffa thoughtfully returned to Buddy Jr's side.
Buddy Jr asked him nervously, "Is what that guy said true? Can we really jump down from here? I'm afraid he's just bluffing. "
Without saying anything, Hoffa kicked Buddy Jr's butt. Accompanied by Buddy Jr's wailing and howling as he fell into the abyss, Hoffa also jumped down the Path of Thorns.
They fell to the ground like meteors. In the blink of an eye, they traversed thousands of meters in the air and landed lightly on the ground like leaves. The feeling was similar to jumping down a one-centimeter flight of stairs. There were no ripples. Sisyphus didn't lie to him. There was no second death in the Kingdom of the Dead.
However, the place where they landed was not the dark pancreatic island where Aglaia stayed. Instead, it was an isolated island that was the size of a football field and shaped like a heart. The sun and the moon shone in the sky at the same time. There was not a single insect on the ground.
"Hey, it's really fine."
Buddy Jr turned over and got up. After touching his body twice, he pulled Hoffa up and asked, "Mr. Bach, are you planning to leave here or not?"
"Can you not always ask me when I'm leaving?"
Hoffa thought of Aglaia who abandoned him and was full of sadness. "It's so good here. There are no worries and no opponents."
"No, there's nothing to do here. I feel uncomfortable all over," Buddy Jr said.
"Bastard."
Hoffa spat.
"Don't you feel the same way? When there's nothing to do, you panic? "
"No."
Hoffa flatly refused, but in fact, he couldn't help but agree with him in his heart. He didn't know how long he would stay in this void, but doing nothing was definitely not his style.
Clap clap clap!
Suddenly, a tsunami-like applause erupted in his ears, startling Hoffa.
He turned his head and saw a towering arc-shaped arena in the distance. The applause and cheers came from that building.
The environment here was far from the dark, isolated island of pancreas where Aglaea stayed. The buildings were solemn, and the ground was solid. Countless ghosts crowded in from all directions and crawled into the enormous arena in excitement.
Hoffa remembered that this was the "entertainment place" that Aglaia had mentioned. At that time, he was quite curious about what this place was, but later, he met Buddy Jr and was brought to Aglaia, so his curiosity was put to rest.
He didn't expect to land here after jumping off the path of thorns.
.....
.....
Hogwarts, Defense Against Black Magic Office.
At this moment, it was already winter. Snowflakes fell from the sky and piled up on the windowsill patiently.
The flames in the fireplace crackled, but Mille Ghoshak, who was sitting in front of the fire, didn't feel any warmth. He wasn't sure if it was because his body was too old, or because that damned guy had disappeared for a few months.
He controlled Alastor Moody's body to sit behind the desk. He looked at a letter in front of him with a gloomy expression. He played with a sharp dagger in his hand. He put his finger on the edge of the dagger, touched it, and retracted it. His expression was very hesitant.
Mixed with the crackling of the pine wood in the fireplace, there was a faint crying in the room. The crying continued and changed pitch from time to time. At first, Mille could still maintain his calm, but gradually, he became impatient.
"Don't yell. You're annoying me."
Finally, he couldn't help but stand up. He strode to the box in the room and pulled it open.
Inside the box, two men were lying on two separate beds. They were silent, and the sound of crying came from a blurry figure kneeling beside one of the beds. She was crying and shouting at the same time, "Little Master, Little Master … Wake up, wake up."
"I told you to stop yelling. Can't you hear me?"
Mille shouted angrily.
"Wuwuwu … I can't help it …"
The little elf turned around and looked at him. Her tears and snot were flowing down Zizi's face. She was sobbing and couldn't stop crying.
"Stop yelling. Tell me, how is he?"
Mille asked impatiently.
"His life signs are getting weaker."
The little elf sobbed. "Half a month ago, his breathing was still normal. But now, he only breathes a few times a day. I … I really don't know what to do … Wuwuaaaah!"
The crying became louder and louder, and a trace of hostility flashed across Miller's face. He stretched out a palm, grabbed the air, and threw the crying house elf to the corner of the wall. It let out a wail and immediately fainted.
The crying finally stopped.
The box quieted down.
Mille controlled Alastor Moody's body and slowly came to the two men in the box. One of the two men had ginger hair, and the other was a bald middle-aged man.
Mille came to the bald middle-aged man's side and held his hand. His hand was densely covered with old spots and veins. It looked like the hand of a man in his fifties. In just a few months, the young man lying on the bed had aged more than twenty years. He was aging at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Beside the bald middle-aged man who was unconscious, there was a piece of bloodstained parchment. It was the sacrificial circle to go to Hörheim.
Mille picked up the parchment with a hesitant expression.
Hoffa had just entered Hörheim for less than a day and he had already lost contact with him. He did not even return at the agreed time. He did not know what happened to him in the Underworld. He did not know how long it would take for the body in front of him to completely decay and collapse due to the loss of life.
Should he do something?
Should he go to the Underworld to get him back?
He fell into hesitation.
Knock knock knock …!
A series of hurried knocks on the door woke him up from his thoughts. He looked at the sky outside the room. It was almost dusk.
Knock knock knock!
The knocks on the door became more urgent.
He put away the parchment impatiently, closed the box, opened the office, and walked out.
The moment the door opened, Mille saw a head of greasy black hair that looked like a kitchen curtain that had not been washed for ten years. Under the hair was a pair of deep eyes and an intimidating aquiline nose.
After coming to Hogwarts for so long, Mille had already recognized all the professors. Naturally, this included the cold and greasy potions professor, Dean Slytherin. However, Mille treated most of the Hogwarts professors with contempt, except for Dumbledore.
"Severus?" Mille said in the tone of an elder. "What are you doing here?"
Severus Snape frowned unhappily. "Dumbledore asked me to inform you that you have to attend the Christmas ball tonight. The professors from the other schools will be attending."
"Ball?" Mille raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that something that everyone knows? Is there a need to specially come and tell me?"
"Maybe he's afraid that you won't be able to find a dance partner?"
Severus Snape's tone had a hint of sarcasm. "If you can find one."
"Hmph."
Mille snorted and did not comment.
"At night, you might have to tidy up this Aura outfit." After saying that, he pointed at Mille's clothes and handed something that looked like an invitation to Mille. Then, he turned around and left without any hesitation. It looked like he did not want to have anything to do with him.
"Little thing …"
Mille closed the door and glanced at the light blue envelope in his hand. He threw it on the desk with disinterest and sat on the chair with a long sigh.
It was already Christmas Eve. Logically speaking, he should have completed his mission and returned to where he came from. However, Hoffa's disappearance had tied him to this post and he could not move.
Dong dong dong!
Before he could warm up, the door of the Defense Against Black Magic office rang again. Mille became more and more impatient. He felt that coming to find Hoffa was a huge mistake in his life.
Pa!!
Mille pulled the door open.
This time, a third-year Gryffindor student and a middle-aged man with neatly combed hair stood outside the door.
"This is Professor Moody's office," the Gryffindor student said. "Professor, Mr. Crouch is looking for you."
"Director of the Department of International Affairs, Barty Crouch?"
Mille looked at the middle-aged man with neatly combed hair and an unusually decent smile. He asked in surprise, "Why are you looking for me?"
"I'm looking for someone."
The man with neatly combed hair said.
"Who are you looking for?" Mille asked with an unfriendly expression.
Barty Crouch did not answer his question. Instead, he gently said to the student who was leading the way, "Thank you for leading the way, Daniel. I have a few words to say to your defense professor."
"Okay, you have a good chat with Professor Moody. I'm going to the ball." The Gryffindor student waved his arms innocently and left the office.
After the student left, the smile on the middle-aged man's face suddenly disappeared. He pushed Mille into the office without any explanation and kicked the door shut. Then, he slapped Mille hard on the face.
Pa!!
"You shameless bastard, what are you doing here?"
Old Barty Crouch, who was smiling decently just a moment ago, seemed to have changed into a different person. He looked at Mille fiercely.
Mille was stunned by the slap. He covered his face and looked at the guy who suddenly slapped him in disbelief.
After the slap, Barty Crouch pulled out his wand and stared at Mille with a cold expression. "How many people know about you? What about Alastor Moody? Where is his real body now? "
Before Mille could react, Old Barty Crouch had already started rummaging through the office. He bent down to look under the desk and opened the closet where the clothes were stored. He did not treat himself as an outsider at all.
Mille rubbed his face and gradually came back to his senses. He glanced at the box in the office and knew that this guy must have mistaken him for his son, Buddy Jr. Crouch.
After rummaging through the boxes and cabinets, Old Barty threw away the bedsheet in his hand and pointed his wand at Mille. "Hand over Mad Eye Moody and come home with me immediately."
"Who told you that?"
Mille questioned with an unfriendly expression.
"Who told me that? Idiot, do you think I don't know anything about your tricks? Speak, did you go back to look for that half-dead master of yours? "
Old Barty Crouch said as he reached out to hit Mille. However, Mille easily dodged his attack.
"You still dare to dodge? You're really something!"
Old Barty scolded in exasperation. "Do you know how much effort I've put into cleaning up your ass? If I didn't use my connections, you would've been kissed a hundred times by the Dementors during the World Cup in Quidditch alone!"
"I'm not your son."
Mille said bluntly.
"And you're still saying you're not?! Petrify all of you! "
Old Barty waved his wand angrily. A gray Curse Ray shot out from the wand and went straight for Mille's face.
A murderous intent flashed in Mille's eyes. He rubbed his hands and raised his hand to interrupt Old Barty's spellcasting. He shattered the gray Petrification Curse into nothingness.
"What's with that look? Brat, don't think you can touch me just because you know some magic. I'm your father … "
Before he could finish the word 'father', Old Barty Crouch's body suddenly floated up. The wand in his hand flew out and landed in Mille's hand. He waved the wand in a reverse grip and Old Barty's limbs twisted into a strange arc in the air.
"You … You … You unfilial son!"
Old Barty clenched his teeth so hard that they bled. He roared in exasperation, "How dare you touch me!?"
"Who told you!?"
Mille's face was as cold as steel. "If it wasn't for someone who tipped you off, you wouldn't have known that someone was impersonating Moody. Speak!"
"You!?"
Old Barty Crouch widened his eyes and looked carefully at the cold face in front of him. He was terrified. "You … You're not my son … You're not the lunatic either. Who are you?"
"It's too late for you to react now."
Mille clenched his fist. Old Barty Crouch, who was floating in the air, tightened his neck. His eyes bulged and he gradually lost his breath.
At that moment, the box in the room opened with a click. Sparkle, the house elf with a bruised head, crawled out of the box while holding her head.
She saw the middle-aged man floating in the air as soon as she crawled out. After being stunned for a second, she let out an ear-piercing scream as if she had seen a ghost. She crawled and rolled toward the ferocious Mille. She knelt and hugged Mille's thigh as she cried, "I beg you, I beg you. Don't kill my master. Don't kill my master!"
"Get lost, Sparkle."
Mille lifted his leg and kicked Sparkle away. He continued to raise Old Barty and asked, "If you don't tell me who tipped you off, do you believe that I'll kill you right away?"
"Ugh …"
Old Barty's face was ashen. He floated in the air and could no longer speak. He clutched his neck and kicked his legs with all his might.
Sparkle, who was kicked away, pounced back without hesitation and hugged Mille's thigh again. She spoke quickly and cried, "We don't know if the little master is dead or alive. Your friend is dying too. How can you still care about other things at a time like this? Go and think of a way to save your friend!!"
"Say that again!!?"
Mille lowered his head and glared fiercely at the house elf who was hugging his thigh.
However, the house elf did not back down at all. She grabbed Mille's wooden leg tightly like a drowning person grabbing onto her last life-saving straw. "I say, can't you think of a way to save your friend if you have the time? Why do you have to make things difficult for others …"
The man and the elf looked at each other for a while.
"Ha … Haha …"
Mille laughed self-deprecatingly. He was the first to admit defeat.
When he thought of Hoffa who was waiting for death in the box, he waved his hand casually and threw Old Barty Crouch aside as if he was throwing trash. It was as if all his strength had been sucked out of him.
Sparkle rolled and crawled to Old Barty's side. She pressed herself against his chest and pressed hard.
Mille Ghoshak stood on the spot and muttered to himself, "Yeah, I don't care who tipped you off. They're all going to die anyway … They're all going to die …"
After muttering to himself, he ordered Sparkle, "Give me the evening gown. I need a party."
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