Rhys casually tossed the evil spirit's shriveled body onto the floor.
He discarded it like a piece of trash and could not even be bothered to look at it again.
After dealing with the evil spirit that had caused trouble within British territory, Rhys crouched down beside the blood-red "lumps of flesh."
They were not actually lumps of flesh.
They were several people who had been completely skinned.
And judging from their condition, the demon had done far more than just remove their skin.
It seemed to have cut out their tongues as well and broken all their limbs.
'What a disgusting sense of amusement.'
Rhys had long since grown accustomed to the cruelty of evil spirits from the Underworld.
After carefully examining the victims for a moment, Rhys took out a small bottle of dittany from his robes, atomized the liquid, and sprayed it evenly over their bodies.
A layer of fresh pink skin immediately began growing across their exposed flesh.
The Muggles sitting nearby widened their eyes and stared at Rhys's back in disbelief.
They had all thought those people were doomed.
And yet this mysterious powerhouse had actually saved them?
They had lost the skin covering their entire bodies!
Modern medicine would have been helpless against injuries of this severity, yet he had simply sprayed some potion over them and healed them?
It was nothing short of a miracle!
Some people were so moved that they burst into tears and began crying out that God had blessed them.
Rhys frowned and immediately clarified that this had absolutely nothing to do with God.
What a joke.
If you had been relying on those false Gods, you would already have become food for that demon.
Thank Dumbledore and modern international law instead.
Afterward, Rhys began searching for the victims' tongues.
"Accio severed tongues!"
A simple Summoning Charm solved the problem.
Looking at the tongues that flew into his hand, Rhys breathed a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, the evil spirit had not eaten them.
That saved him a great deal of trouble.
Next came the simple process of reattachment.
After casting a few minor spells, the injured people lying on the floor had largely recovered.
They only needed a few weeks of rest before their physical injuries would completely heal.
As for the psychological scars, those were beyond Rhys's ability to fix.
He could use a Memory Charm to erase this experience, but the victims would have to ask him to do so themselves.
More importantly, if he erased their memories, who would be left to praise the greatness of a Wizard?
After treating the wounded, Rhys stood up and turned toward the passengers in the cabin with a brilliant smile.
"All right. They're out of danger now. Once they're taken to a hospital and rest for a while, they'll make a full recovery. Hopefully they have medical insurance."
The lighthearted joke eased the tense atmosphere in the cabin and made the passengers feel a little closer to Rhys.
"May I ask who you are? Were you sent by God to save us?" one of the bolder passengers asked.
The corner of Rhys's mouth twitched.
He nearly lost his composure.
Come on, how could they still not understand the situation?
The gods returning from the Underworld and ordinary humans were natural enemies.
Only wizards could save them!
Still, Rhys quickly adjusted his mindset.
Religion was deeply rooted in Britain, so it was understandable that these people could not immediately see the true nature of the gods.
"I'm a wizard," Rhys declared loudly. "It wasn't God who brought me here. It was justice and the law!"
The Muggles blinked.
A wizard?
According to the usual stereotypes, weren't wizards supposed to be on the same side as demons?
And yet when they had prayed to the gods for help, it had been a wizard who answered them.
Wait.
Did that mean they were about to have to pay some kind of price?
After all, the wizards in bedtime stories were always greedy villains...
So someone cautiously asked.
"A price?"
A look of genuine confusion appeared on Rhys's face.
"What exactly are you planning to do?"
Looking at the demon's corpse on the floor, Rhys seemed to suddenly understand what the passenger meant.
"No payment. It's free. These evil spirits from the Underworld are enemies everyone has a duty to destroy. Why would I charge money for that? With great power comes great responsibility!"
Rhys laughed brightly.
Hearing his laughter, the people around him felt somewhat ashamed.
It seemed they really had misunderstood this boy with such a noble soul.
"You may not believe in God, but I'll pray for you. I hope everything goes well for you in the future," an elderly woman whispered, her gratitude toward Rhys obvious.
Many of the passengers nodded along.
They might remember this cheerful, sunny boy for the rest of their lives.
They would never forget that it was a wizard who had saved their lives without asking for anything in return.
Even the saints described in scripture did not seem to possess such noble character.
"The monster's dealt with, so I should get going. I still have other things to do."
Rhys shrugged, looking completely relaxed, though anyone observant could see the faint weariness at the corners of his eyes.
Of course.
These were troubled times.
Who knew how much pressure this young boy was carrying?
All 123 counties across the four constituent countries of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland rested on his shoulders!
Quite a few passengers had tears in their eyes.
"Have a safe journey."
Rhys walked to the aircraft door and placed a hand on it.
Then, as though suddenly remembering something, he turned back toward the passengers.
"Oh, one more thing. My abilities may be limited, but there's one thing I can guarantee: Britain is safe. If things become dangerous, just come back."
One passenger could no longer hold himself back.
A man carrying a handheld video camera stood up from a seat near the back and shouted, "Hello! I'm a reporter from the Daily Mail. Could I interview you?"
Rhys hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
"Now really isn't the time for an interview. Next time. I promise."
Rhys raised a hand and pointed at him in a rather dashing manner.
Then, with equal flair, he pushed open the cabin door and shot out of the aircraft with a whoosh.
Before the rushing wind could even flood inside, the cabin door closed again.
The passengers were left staring at one another in silence.
The reporter stood frozen in place before finally giving a bitter smile.
You could at least have told me your name...
Not long after Rhys left, a childish voice sounded inside the cabin.
"Mom, he looked like a superhero from the comics!"
It was a little boy talking to his mother.
Superhero comics, which had emerged in the 1940s, now had an enormous fanbase around the world.
Everything Rhys had just done matched the image of a superhero almost perfectly, so it was only natural for children to make the comparison.
"Yes, like Superman!" his mother agreed. "You should learn from him."
"Nuh-uh, he was obviously Captain America..." another boy protested.
"But 'with great power comes great responsibility' is Spider-Man's line..."
The children immediately began arguing heatedly.
The reporter's eyes, however, suddenly lit up.
He remembered that the mysterious boy seemed to care deeply about the concept of "Britain."
He was probably someone who cared greatly about his homeland and his home.
Following his instincts, the reporter wrote the word "Homeland" in his notebook.
After thinking for a moment, he added "er" to the end.
A brand-new word was born.
"Homelander."
____
12 Chaps ahead at Patreon.com/HornyFBI