Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 952 Fifteen Minutes in the Studio
“I think you’ve made a mistake, Mr. Nelson.”

The young man looked at the shattered equipment and gasped in distress: "Mr. Marchionne will kill you."

Nielsen looked a little pale, but still stubbornly said, "Go check the current ratings! Maybe I'll even get a bonus!"

Both Salina and Grimm were experienced Aurors, and their spells were precise and deadly, leaving no chance for the chaotic spells to land on them.

However, Salina's spellcasting skills were clearly superior. Her defense was impenetrable, and her counterattacks were lightning fast, gradually forcing the increasingly clumsy Grimm into a corner.

"You can't win, Grimm!"

Salina shouted, "Stop! Get out!"

No sooner had she finished speaking than a sudden green light shot out from nowhere and struck Salina in the chest without warning.

Immediately afterward, Grimm's Disarming Charm struck Salina, who had suddenly stopped moving, and the slender wand spun away.

At that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Salina slowly lowered her head and looked at her chest—

There was no bloodshed, no wounds, only a chilling sensation that quickly spread throughout my body, taking away all my strength and warmth.

Her pupils dilated rapidly, all the light went out instantly, and without saying a word, her body went limp and collapsed.

"boom!"

She is dead.

Avada Kedavra, an irreversible death curse.

The others stopped what they were doing and looked over in shock.

"No—no—Salina—"

Anderson screamed and lunged forward, his hands trembling as he tried to pull his companion up, crying out in anguish, "Don't do this to me, don't die... Salina..."

“You killed her, Rex Grimm!” Salina’s other companion, Lopez, screamed, swung her wand violently: “Explosion!”

"boom!"

With a loud bang, the stunned Grimm was sent flying backward, crashing heavily into the wall, his chest covered in blood.

He struggled to sit up and said in a trembling voice, "I...I didn't..."

Just then, heavy footsteps seemed to make the floor tremble, and a group of people reappeared at the studio door.

Leila Picqueli walked in, followed by a large group of people. Her gaze immediately fell on Salina's corpse, then abruptly shifted to Grimm:
"Rex Grimm!"

Lyra screamed in disbelief, “You…you actually did this! We just found out you were a Purge mole planted in Congress, and you…you actually used the Killing Curse to kill Salina Goldstein!”

Grimm suddenly looked up at Lyra, his expression so complex it defied description.

He wanted to explain, to scream, to point out that he wasn't the real killer.

But suddenly, his throat could no longer produce any sound; he could only open his mouth in vain, like a ridiculous fish out of water.

Leila's men swarmed him, roughly pinned him to the ground, and dragged him away.

Grimm stared intently at Lyra with bloodshot eyes, watching the woman walk quickly to Salina's body and slowly kneel down.

She reached out and gently stroked Salina's cold cheek, a tender gesture that was heartbreaking.

“Salina…my dear friend…”

Leila choked back tears, saying, "How could you be so foolish... Why did you act alone... Why did you show him mercy at the very end? If it weren't for that, you wouldn't have..."

She could say no more, sobbing as she gently held Salina in her arms, like holding a sleeping child. Her voice, amplified by the telescope, echoed throughout the United States:
"I swear... your sacrifice will never be forgotten! We will be more united and more determined—to purge the traitors and resist the foreign enemy! The truth will come to light, and we will avenge you! I swear!"

She lowered her head, burying her face in Salina's shoulder, her shoulders trembling slightly, as if suppressing immense grief.

Both on and off camera, countless people were moved and began to sob softly.

Corbett, Hawthorne, Hughes, Perez, Goldstein, Grimm… Recently, high-ranking officials of the Magic Congress have been encountering problems one after another, either meeting with misfortune or betraying their duties. The entire organization is teetering on the brink of collapse.

Although the deadly storm has not yet directly struck ordinary people, the public has already felt a chilling cold and is filled with fear and unease.

At that moment, Leila's sobs were like a shot of adrenaline, injecting hope and warmth back into everyone's hearts.

This is a leader with warmth; she trembles and sheds tears, not so tough, not so cold, and not aloof. She can empathize with the pain of others, and in the broken darkness, she can personally offer up an inextinguishable flame.

But off-camera, from an angle unseen by everyone, Lyra's lips curved upwards very slightly.

Just for a moment.

Then she looked up, and there it was again—a face filled with grief and determination.

"Turn off the signal."

She said wearily and sadly, "I'm taking Salina back...for her...to prepare her funeral..."

This time, under the cold gaze of congressional officials, Nelson dared not delay any longer and reached out to shut down the broadcast signal.

The mirror surface rippled, the image cut off, returned to a dark blue standby state, and then switched to the program that had not finished airing.

In the studio, the members of Congress who had suddenly barged in rushed out just like they had come in.

Only one official with a sinister expression remained at the end, staring at Nelson and asking, "What did Goldstein say to you before the live broadcast started?"

"N-no, no," Nelson stammered, sweating profusely. "Director Goldstein produced a letter of authorization, saying she needed to borrow it for fifteen minutes... She was very firm..."

The official's cold gaze swept over Nelson's face, and when he saw the FMC logo on his hat, a hint of apprehension appeared in his expression.

"Very well," the official said coldly. "You'd better remember this for the future—you know nothing today!"

The last person left as well.

Nielsen told the branch staff to go back to work, while he stayed in the messy Studio 3, casually found a place to sit down, and dejectedly lowered his head.

He never expected that this matter would end with Salina's death.

If he had foreseen this outcome, would he still have agreed to Salina's request?
Nelson looked up at the surviving wall clock and discovered that it had been exactly fifteen minutes from start to finish.

He closed his eyes, too heartbroken to speak.

“Mr. Nelson…”

At this moment, the young man slowly approached him, his forehead still covered in cold sweat, his eyes darting nervously left and right, and then he furtively pulled out a stack of papers from his pocket.

“This was brought by Director Goldstein,” the young man said in a low voice, almost in a whisper. “Those people in Congress didn’t notice, but I think you might want to take a look…”

Nelson flipped through the pages a few times, growing more and more shocked. His hands began to tremble violently, and the papers rustled softly.

As he finished reading, he felt dizzy, and fear and anger coiled around his heart like two intertwined snakes.

He closed his eyes and pondered for a moment.

This time, I can't act on my own again...

“Peter,” Nelson took a deep breath and said, “Get me in touch with Mr. Marchionne.”

(End of this chapter)