"So panicking now won't help—with Kater, you keep in touch with that bounty hunter and see if the werewolf is still around; Julie, find a way to get the surveillance footage from the ship..."
He delegated the tasks one by one, setting his subordinates to work, then rubbed his forehead and leaned back in his chair.
After a long silence, the white-haired old man suddenly spoke: "Mr. Wizard, do you have any other instructions? Or perhaps... what do you want to gain from us?"
The room remained silent.
After a while, the white-haired old man rubbed his brow and murmured to himself: "No one? Seems I was overthinking..."
With effort, he supported himself to stand from the sofa and wearily made his way to the bathroom.
Only when the sounds of water came from there did Vid use a Shrinking Spell to minimize his Friendship Book into a tiny piece, slipping it into the crevice of his suitcase, then quietly left the room.
He used the same method to locate another group of Muggles seeking a wizard to cure cancer.
Vid could understand their pursuit of magic, but he couldn't lie on an experimental table to be studied, nor could he tolerate others being treated that way.
[Vid: Miss Skeeter, please keep an eye on someone for me.]
[Rita: No problem! This ship is much more interesting than I expected! I have a hunch—I'm going to get world-shattering news from here!]
[Vid: Be careful, the Transfiguration Beetle isn't foolproof! Make sure you aren't caught.]
[Rita: I know, don't worry... Oh my, you can't imagine what I've seen, that Umbridge...]
Skeeter was so excited her writing took on a flourish and soon forgot she was communicating with Vid.
Watching the unfinished words linger on the parchment for a while before gradually fading away, Vid smiled and put away the Friendship Book.
A journalist's pen, a killer's knife.
His current relationship with Skeeter was tinged with threats and collaboration, neither friends nor allies.
This level of cooperation was naturally not secure.
If one day Skeeter went to the Ministry of Magic to register as an Animagus, she would surely write something unfavorable to Vid.
How to ensure this knife stands by him?
Vid thought this, feeling somewhat fatigued.
Originally, he just wanted to accompany Professor Morry to a private exhibit... Then he thought about eliminating threats for his relatives and friends...
But the situation became increasingly complex, deviating from his previous purpose.
However...
Since he couldn't immediately find the werewolf leader, the issue he was concerned about, certain people's overvaluing of lives, no longer existed.
Perhaps now it's time to seek their help.
...
It was not until the next morning when Pockmarked Driver and Little Moustache switched shifts did they realize their companions were missing.
The truck was empty, not even a single hair was left, clearly having been meticulously cleaned.
Besides them, who else could know the secrets of this ship?
"Damn!" Little Moustache said angrily, "Dar abandoned us and must be planning to claim all the money!"
Pockmarked Driver was bewildered: "...What money?"
Little Moustache realized he'd inadvertently let slip, his face darkened, and he struck the driver unconscious, making a call himself.
"It's me, Garo." Little Moustache said in a low voice, "Things aren't looking good... Dar and Donovan emptied the entire truck while we switched shifts to rest! They must be wizard spies!"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone before speaking: "What about Lars?"
"He's gone to check Dar's room—their room—to see if he can find any clues."
Little Moustache kicked the unconscious Pockmarked Driver at his feet, and said with an urgent and remorseful tone: "Sorry, this shipment mission failed! But I swear, everything I've said is true! Dar must be a spy."
The voice on the other end: "...No, he's not."
The voice was slightly choked up, leaving Little Moustache stunned: "You mean..."
"Dar returned, but he... he's already..."
Little Moustache asked in disbelief: "What's going on? How did he... go back? The ship is still at sea! Did they take all the alchemists?"
"No, there were no alchemists, nor Donovan, only Dar... and an Acromantula."
The person on the other side of the phone strained to speak clearly: "Wizards are too cruel, Dar was injected with lethal venom by the Acromantula and brutally pierced through his head..."
In the pristine hospital room, Dar lay on the bed with several distinct holes in his head, and the blood flowing was black.
He was already dead, but his face remained contorted in a terrifying and extreme expression of fear.
The person on the phone went from sobbing to wailing, and Little Moustache held his phone in silence for a while, feeling uncomfortable inside.
After a long time, when the other side's cries gradually calmed down, Little Moustache silently hung up the phone, took a few deep breaths to settle his mood, then turned to dial a new number—
"Donovan must be the wizard's spy. He killed Dar and stole all the alchemists!"
This time, the voice on the phone sounded much calmer:
"Did the alchemists leave the ship?"
"I assume they did, wizards can Apparate."
"There will be countless opportunities to capture alchemists in the future, but traitors must never be forgiven! Find Donovan, kill him!"
"Yes."
"I will send someone to assist you, do your best, don't let me down a second time."
"Yes!"
"Eliminate that guy beside you and restart your infiltration... I heard there's a Werewolf Mutual Aid Association in London, United Kingdom, and that's your next target."
"...Yes."
After hanging up the phone, Little Moustache picked up the Pockmarked Driver and dragged him to the lower stern of the ship, where the spinning propellers sent up sprays of water.
He pushed the Pockmarked Driver down, and soon saw the water swiftly turn dark red.
"I'm sorry, brother."
Little Moustache watched the blood, and quietly said: "You weren't bad, but with you around, I couldn't hide... Werewolves can always find werewolves, right?"
...
The ship finally docked.
The passengers on board were completely unaware that the enormous vessel they were on had almost sunk to the bottom of the sea, merely happily disembarking with their luggage.
This time, checks at the United States dock were particularly stringent, causing significant delays, leaving passengers impatiently waiting, eventually granted permission to leave.
"I must say, Muggle efficiency is really too poor!" Umbridge couldn't help but complain to her subordinates: "If it were us, these procedures could be done in seconds, or even not needed at all."
The subordinates did not point out that their own efficiency was also rather lacking, merely smiling and nodding, while offering flattery to their superior.
Umbridge soon flashed a smile and ran ahead to catch up to the French official. A small beetle clung to the hem of her clothing, though Umbridge didn't notice.
Nor did she notice several pairs of eyes looking over when she spoke the word "Muggle."
"Wizards..."
"These are all wizards..."
Eyes exchanged secretly, some people became excited, others filled their eyes with hatred.
Vid did not linger; when the ship approached the United States, he first transformed into a Peregrine Falcon to fly to a nearby airport, then immediately bought a flight ticket to London, United Kingdom.
This saved him significant effort compared to flying back himself.
The reason Vid was in such a rush was because his Friendship Book had received a message—
[Harry: The Ministry of Magic wants to take Sirius, I can't reach Dumbledore, what do I do?]