Modis thought that after he finished speaking, Vid Gray and his bodyguards, even if they didn't help him, would at least temporarily stop Victor's atrocities, allowing him to continue speaking.
However, what chilled him to the core was that Vid Gray seemed not to hear at all and continued to busy himself writing something.
Remus Lupin seemed somewhat concerned, but his gaze darted between Victor and Vid Gray, with an expression so complex that Modis couldn't gauge his thoughts.
"Don't count on it!" Victor sneered, "As a traitor among wizards, caught yet begging wizards for mercy, isn't that laughable?"
"Let go of me!"
Modis spoke harshly, "Do you know what you're doing? Do you know what's happening in the economy class right now? If you don't let go, this whole plane will be doomed!"
He hoped that the commotion on the other side would draw the attention of these wizards but was also afraid that the chaos created by his comrades would erupt any second, sending the entire plane spiraling out of control.
—Unlike the four with short hair, Modis was in charge of command and support, but he didn't need to sacrifice himself.
As a wizard, even if the plane exploded, he had a plan for retreat.
But this plan... was in his carry-on suitcase...
Just now, under Victor's relentless questioning, Modis, not wanting to appear suspicious, had put the suitcase back into the overhead compartment.
At this very moment, his comrades below were surely already taking action, the plane could go wrong at any time, and Modis's entire being was drawn toward the overhead compartment.
But then, he heard a short, cold laugh, filled with undisguised contempt.
"Hahaha... Are you threatening me? Surely you don't mean those four idiots in economy class?"
Modis's breath caught abruptly.
Victor unhurriedly said, "Regrettably, your comrades aren't as reliable as you imagined."
Modis's eyes widened, "They... they were captured by your men?"
"Otherwise, do you think... how did I get the information that you're 'Scourers'?" Victor asked.
This statement boomed in Modis's mind like a death knell.
—How were they discovered? They had all disguised themselves as ordinary passengers.
To avoid alerting Vid Gray's side or the Magic Congress, the personnel selected were all ordinary people, not carrying any magic-related items...
Suddenly, scenes from before flashed back in his mind, of being stared at by numerous passengers, and now...
Now, Victor held him down in the seat with one hand, making it hard even to breathe, yet none of the passengers in front turned back out of curiosity to see what was happening.
Even the flight attendants seemed to have forgotten their duties, no one asked questions or came to stop them.
It was as if this space they occupied was isolated.
Yet, Modis rolled his eyes to weakly glance at the seats on the other side of the aisle, seeing Sirius and Harry with slightly open mouths watching them, clearly able to hear and see what was going on.
So... the only answer could be another...
He spoke with difficulty, "You... almost everyone on this plane is yours? So, any passenger besides you is under close surveillance..."
Victor's response was to pat Modis's head with his free hand, saying:
"Get your facts straight, you're the one being interrogated now! Who else are your accomplices? Where are they? What's the detailed plan?"
Modis had completely given up hope of escape, he stiffened his neck, coldly saying:
"If you have the guts, kill me! But don't think you'll get a word from me! I'll never betray my convictions or comrades, the honor of the Scourers is not to be tarnished!"
"The Scourers'... honor?"
Victor seemed to find this word ridiculously amusing, laughed twice, but did not further dispute verbally, showing neither disappointment nor anger on his rugged face, just indifferently said:
"Not talking, huh? No problem... believe me, you will talk eventually!"
Modis's pupils contracted, just about to say something, but Victor's hand clamped around his throat, fingers suddenly pressing hard!
At this moment, Modis clearly felt the other's finger bones embed deeply into one side of his neck, with violent arterial pressure bringing intense pain and suffocation, his temples and the back of his eyes began to throb rapidly, his ears rang sharply, and outside sounds became distant and blurry.
Within a few short seconds, Modis's struggles became feeble, his vision fully engulfed by darkness, as if plunging into a bottomless abyss of black.
Just as he fell into unconsciousness nearing death, Victor suddenly released his grip!
In an instant, his body's survival instinct overpowered everything!
Modis let out a hoarse gasping sound, followed by uncontrollable violent coughing and retching, as if to cough up his internal organs, tears unrestrainingly flowing from the corners of his eyes.
The fresh air rushing into his lungs felt like burning coals mixed with glass shards, scalding and shredding from his throat to his trachea!
His mind was in chaos, unable to think, feeling only pure and primal fear, wanting to escape, but the connection between his body and mind seemed severed, disobedient.
Victor calmly watched him convulse and struggle in the seat, then suddenly reached again for Modis's neck!
"Ah!"
The man jerked back like a startled antelope, directly falling off the seat and onto the aisle, frantically raising his hand to defend, shouting loudly:
"Wait! Stop!"
As he spoke, his throat flared with scorching pain, and his voice was hoarse and unpleasant.
In this moment of "resurrection," an unprecedented will to live overshadowed the so-called "honor of the Scourers," Modis for the first time realizing that what he believed in seemed so powerless at the point of life and death.
Victor mercilessly reached out, grabbed Modis's collar, and hoisted him back onto the seat.
This simple action terrified Modis into stiffness, trembling uncontrollably from lips to fingertips, squeezing out an extremely short wheeze from his throat.
This scene in Harry's eyes caused a strong discomfort. He couldn't help but open his mouth and say:
"Victor Kravchuk, please you..."
"Harry!"
From the front seats came his godfather's deep voice.
Harry looked over, meeting Sirius's profound gaze. His godfather slightly shook his head at him, displaying neither sympathy nor wavering, only the calm and comprehension coming from truly brutal battles.
Harry clenched his fist, the words almost spoken swallowed back.
Victor seemed oblivious to Harry and others' reactions, only gazing down at Modis full of fear, calmly asking:
"Now, can we continue our conversation? Mr. Graves?"
At this moment, in Modis's eyes, Victor had become the embodiment of death and terror, his mental defenses completely collapsed.
The man's lips quivered slightly, finally trembling as he spoke:
"I... my accomplices, are only those four people... if nothing unexpected happened, they should all have been caught by your men... but..."
He swallowed, some mental shackles from years of training stopping him from continuing, but under Victor's gaze, he finally spoke in a low voice:
"But with the Scourers, when carrying out important actions against wizards... to ensure foolproofness, we'd generally... generally send out two teams..."
"We carry out the same command, independently of each other, unknown to the other's identity, location, mission details; the only certainty is that the other side must exist..."
"So... if the mission fails, someone else completes it; if betrayed, someone else silences... this is how we Scourers operate..."