Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 959 Brolin's Struggle
Countless eyes were fixed on Brolin at that moment, empty, cold, and devoid of any emotion.

Brolin was completely panicked.

"No...impossible..."

His lips trembled, and his wand shook in his hand:

"I hold the core contract of all the puppets... I am their master..."

But the way the puppets stared at him wasn't the way they should look at their master.

Brolin whirled around, staring at the alchemist who was huddled in a corner, and roared in grief and rage:
"Illari, you betrayed me!"

Illari stammered, "This...this...how should I put it..."

“There’s no need to blame our precious alchemist,” William said gently. “When you abandoned all your subordinates and ran away, you should have known… that a man like you is destined to never gain anyone’s loyalty again.”

As he spoke, he waved his hand gently.

In an instant, all the puppets began to approach Brolin, while the closest ones quickly stood in front of Sir William and his men, as well as Illari.

"Impossible! The core contract isn't so easily canceled! That's not what Abigail said!"

Brolin frantically tried to find Abigail, knowing that the original and strongest twelve puppets would always obey her commands.

Because their contracts originated from Wade Gray, even Illari couldn't completely erase them.

But after looking around, he remembered that Abigail had already been sent to her death.

Clinging to a sliver of hope, Brolin pointed to the nearest werewolf puppet and shouted sharply:
"Stop! I order you to stop! Return to your position!"

The werewolf puppet showed no reaction and continued to approach step by step.

He then turned to the vampire puppets: "Kneel down! Do you hear me! Kneel down! I am your master!"

The vampire gave a cold, emotionless smile, his fangs gleaming under the light.

The encirclement is shrinking.

Although the puppets weren't very fast, Brolin still felt like the space was being squeezed so much that he couldn't breathe.

Mark Paul, who had been standing quietly beside William, chuckled softly at that moment.

“Mr. Brolin,” Paul’s voice was polite, but his words were sharp as knives, “there is one thing you seem to have never understood.”

He took half a step forward and adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.
"After accepting the Sir's goodwill, Mr. Illari, in return, released the portion of the puppet contracts that belonged to you."

"These puppets now only obey the orders of the knight and Mr. Illari himself."

He looked at Brolin's pale face, his tone filled with genuine confusion:
"To be honest, I've always been curious... why do you trust so much in things that you didn't create yourself and never truly controlled the core contract? Is it because they seem to obey you? Or because they don't contradict you?"

Chris's expression changed slightly.

—While this statement refers to Brolin, it also applies to them.

Did Paul say that unintentionally... or did he do it on purpose?
He glanced at his grandfather, then subconsciously looked at the puppets he had been avoiding eye contact with.

The puppets weren't looking at him, but seeing them staring at Brolin still sent a chill down Chris's spine.

It was as if Brolin's current predicament foreshadowed their own future misery.

He suddenly realized how dangerous his situation was!

The number of bodyguards they trusted was far less than the number of the new puppets filling the hall.

In this room, the only one who truly controls everything... is that seemingly weak and timid Illari.

Chris glanced again at the alchemist, whose face was full of guilt and embarrassment and who dared not meet Brolin's eyes, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

Sir William remained unmoved, his eyes slightly lowered, and no one could discern his true thoughts from his expression.

Brolin opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no sound came out. His mind was blank; the immense crisis rendered him almost incapable of thinking.

But the instinct remains.

Just as the werewolf puppet at the front was about to pounce—

"Get out of my way!"

A blindingly cold light suddenly burst from Brolin's sleeve, piercing straight into the werewolf puppet's chest!

However, the puppet's speed was beyond imagination—

The werewolf narrowly dodged the attack with a near-physically physics-defying backward slide. With a whip-like flick of his arm, he sent Brolin flying!
Brolin staggered to a stop, and when he turned around, his nose was covered in blood.

The other three puppets pounced at the same time, and Brolin roared and charged forward, as if a silver light was flowing upwards from his palm!
"Chong-"

A piercing scraping sound erupted as a sharp knife drew sparks from the puppet's chest.

The werewolf shook its head and touched its chest. Only a layer of short gray fur had been shaved off its chest, leaving a faint white scratch on its skin.

The werewolf puppet grinned and quickly approached!

Brolin was startled and quickly stepped back, his left hand already pulling out a stove hook that was half a meter long from his lower back!
— Previously, when he requested a meeting with the Jazz, his assistant Paul, citing security reasons, had taken away all of Brolin's personal weapons.

Of course, this was a necessary step every time he met William Stonefield. The old man was cowardly and afraid of death, and Brolin was used to it and had no suspicions whatsoever.

Even without weapons, he could send Sir William to hell with a single punch.

But he never expected that they had all been working towards this day!
When Brolin broke in looking for William Stonefield, he knew things wouldn't go smoothly, so he grabbed a kitchen knife and a wood-burning hook from Illari's room and hid them on his person.

But anyone who thinks that he only took these things is sorely mistaken!

Brolin was incredibly strong; the furnace hook in his hand whistled through the air as he swung it, forcing the puppets to retreat a few steps for a moment.

But Brolin's own robes were torn in several places, his cheeks were slashed by wolf claws and bled, and his shoulder was struck by a golem's heavy punch, the bones making an ominous cracking sound.

Moreover, the puppets are not afraid of death, have no sense of pain, and are numerous... Even if he can hold on for a while, he will be torn to pieces sooner or later!
Every second he spends entangled with them is further jeopardizing his life!
"Ahhhh——!"

Brolin roared angrily, his expression hardening. He pulled out several small, round red balls and glanced hastily toward the corner where Ilari had been hiding.

—Not here?
His gaze swept quickly around, then he noticed a familiar piece of clothing disappearing swiftly from the doorway.

In those few short seconds, Ilari had already crouched down, grabbed his robe, and run out the door.

Brolin gave a bitter laugh.

He thought he had taken the red balls without anyone noticing, but little did he know... it might have been Illari who deliberately let him get them!
That guy knew how dangerous those things were, so he deliberately let him get them and then ran away before they were done!
As for the purpose...

Brolin peered through the gaps between the puppets at the Stonefield family in their wheelchairs and couldn't help but laugh again.

When did the bookish, alchemy fanatic he knew become such a cunning and calculating person?
But he ended up in this desperate situation not only because of Illari's betrayal, but more importantly... because Stonefield wanted to abandon him!

—If that's the case, then go die!
Even if I can only avenge half of my revenge, it's still better than being beaten to death like a stray dog!
Brolin's eyes went mad, and in that instant, he did something that seemed like suicide—

He suddenly stopped moving, letting a vampire's claw pierce through his chest without flinching or dodging!

"Pfft!"

The excruciating pain contorted Brolin's face instantly, but instead of retreating, he used the penetrating force to suddenly raise the energy of his entire body from the soles of his feet!
The lumbar vertebrae, spine, scapulae... every bone creaked under the strain.

That violent power, like a spring compressed to its limit, climbed up his spine and finally poured into his right arm!

“Go to hell!!”

Brolin roared, his body transforming into a firing platform, his right arm pulling back at an incredible angle and then whipping forward like a lashing whip!
The scarlet sphere was flung out violently!
"boom--!!!"

The flames instantly engulfed everything in sight.

It wasn't flame; it was more like liquid fire—viscous, scorching, and highly corrosive.

The shockwave from the explosion sent the seven or eight nearest puppets flying. They were engulfed in flames mid-air, their bionic skin melting and peeling away like wax, revealing the horribly burned tissue beneath.

The temperature in the entire venue soared instantly! The oil paintings on the walls curled and charred, the marble floor was scorched with spiderweb-like cracks, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of sulfur and molten metal.

however--

After the initial explosion, the flames subsided, but the spot where William and Chris were located remained unharmed.

A transparent barrier, about two meters long and wide, had quietly been erected around them at some point.

That's high-strength composite transparent glass, capable of withstanding multiple shots from armor-piercing incendiary rounds, or the impact and fragments of high-explosive rounds exploding at close range.

Chris was still breathing heavily, his hands still gripping the wheelchair armrests tightly.

He looked at his grandfather beside him—Sir William Stonefield was still sitting upright in his wheelchair, without even changing his posture.

"Not bad alchemical bomb," William commented. "But Muggle technology has its merits, doesn't it?"

Brolin hung from the puppet's arm, blood gushing out.

He stared intently at the unharmed Stonefield family, watching the damaged but still struggling puppets struggle to their feet, his madness gradually replaced by a deep despair.

His final, desperate strike didn't even make his opponent flinch.

William, with an air of superior pity, said:

“Commendable courage, Mr. Brolin. But unfortunately… you underestimated our defenses.”

He raised his hand and waved it gently:
"Dispose of it."

As soon as the command was given, the puppets—even with their limbs mutilated and their skin melted—slowly began to surround Brolin.

(End of this chapter)