American comics: From Hogwarts to God on Earth

three days ago.

Rita had a rough time lately. To gather news material while evading the Ministry of Magic, and also to prepare magical items for Rune, she chose to travel to Durmstrang. Unsurprisingly, she discovered quite a few missing wizards there.

Looking at the numbers recorded on the paper, Rita began to panic. Although she had a premonition, it was only now that she had to admit that the disappearance of wizards was no longer just a problem in one region, but a problem for all of Europe, and perhaps even the entire wizarding world.

So she became increasingly accustomed to living in beetle form. This not only allowed her to obtain more unknown information but also ensured her safety as much as possible. Animagus is not just about turning people into animals. As a top-tier magic in the field of transfiguration, it also grants wizards extremely high magic resistance in Animagus form. This is also why Sirius Black was able to withstand the Dementors of Azkaban for many years without going completely insane.

The arduous journey she endured during this period was far more than just eating and sleeping outdoors. Rita not only had to travel to and from the Ministry of Magic in various countries, but also to the homes of pure-blood families, often staying for several days at a time. She had to be wary not only of the dark magic of those pure-blood families, but also of the strange and unusual defensive and detection spells. She had lost count of how many times she had tried to escape, and how many times she had wanted to use the button in her hand to alert Rune, who held the door key. But in the end, she always restrained herself.

If it weren't for the fact that her Animagus was a beetle, she would have been caught countless times already. Perhaps because of the painful ordeal she had endured during this period, Rita was no longer the flamboyant, carefree, and talkative reporter she once was.

She looked at herself in the mirror; she was a woman who was both strange and familiar. She was thin and haggard, her eyes slightly red, revealing weariness and sorrow, but the corners of her mouth were slightly pursed, revealing a hint of stubbornness.

In the bathroom, Rita forced herself to wash her face. The icy water splashed on her skin sent a shiver down her spine. Tonight was their deal; she had to stay clear-headed. Rita gave herself a "you can do it" sign in the mirror, then transformed back into a beetle and flew towards the nearby forest.

The woods were dark and gloomy, the trees dense with foliage, blocking out the sun, and the ground was covered with withered branches and leaves. Occasionally, a few strange bird calls could be heard, sending chills down one's spine. Yet, this terrifying place was now filled with people.

They split into two distinct groups. One group of wizards, dressed in robes and holding wands, displayed a variety of expressions—some serious, some excited, some sorrowful—with the wizards in the back huddled together in hushed tones. The other group, presumably Muggles, stood in suits, their eyes wary, bodies slightly leaning forward, hands clenched, constantly glancing around; the atmosphere was tense.

The wizard at the head of the group walked over, and the Muggles immediately focused all their attention on him.

"Ten in total. As you requested, the living ones have all been given sleeping pills." The wizard's eyes were cold, and a deep, irregular scar marked his face. A sly smile played on his lips. His left hand gripped his wand tightly, his fingers occasionally rubbing the shaft, exuding a ruthless aura. His right hand picked up a silver briefcase and tossed it over: "Catch!"

Some Muggles immediately rushed out to try and catch the suitcase. But before they could catch it, the suitcase quickly changed from freefall to a slow landing. The Muggles who had strayed from the group immediately showed embarrassed and resentful expressions, while the wizards on the other side burst into laughter.

"Enough." The Muggle who spoke was an old man. He stood at the front, thin and stern-faced, with deep-set eyes that conveyed authority, and a slightly pursed mouth that gave him an air of quiet power. But his words clearly did not elicit any attention from the wizards. So, he pulled out a strange-looking object. It was shaped like a cigarette, entirely black, with a small green light flashing on it.

The surrounding wizards immediately adopted serious expressions and took a step back. Some glared at the man, while others looked at the cigarette-like object with fear. The leader of the group tucked his wand under his arm, raised his hands to indicate he wouldn't do anything, and said, "Alright, alright, I know how powerful you are!"

Seeing their reaction, Rita had a sudden thought and immediately flew closer to carefully observe the object. Judging from their expressions, this cylindrical object was likely harmful to wizards. Could it restrict wizards' spellcasting, or could it kill them outright? A series of terrifying thoughts raced through Rita's mind, and she instinctively gripped the green leaves beneath her feet.

The old man didn't react to the wizard's words. Instead, he calmly picked up another black leather case, walked up to the wizard, gently put it down, and then retreated back to his own camp.

Both opened their respective suitcases and examined their contents. From Rita's position, she could only see the suitcase the old man had picked up. When the old man opened the suitcase, inside were rows of neatly packaged glass bottles, some labeled "Dead." Looking at the contents of the bottles, Rita felt a sudden pang of pain in her heart.

The bottles contained not objects, but individuals. Some lay quietly, breathing steadily, their faces serene, as if having a sweet dream; while others were pale, their faces contorted in pain, their eyes filled with astonishment, seemingly unable to believe that the killer had actually attacked them.

"It's a pleasure to cooperate." The old man nodded and was about to leave when the leading wizard on the other side called him back.

"Hey, you old geezer!" The wizard glared with bloodshot eyes, a fierce glint in them, a cruel smile playing on his lips. He shouted at the old man, "Not enough money!"

The Muggles immediately drew their weapons, some holding the strange cigarette, others taking out guns. The wizards on the other side also drew their wands and aimed them at the impeccably dressed Muggles in front of them.

The old man's face was ashen, his eyes sharp, and his lips pressed into a tight line. He stared intently at the leading wizard, his eyes wide: "The price we agreed on was very clear. Are you trying to raise the price on the spot?"

But the leading wizard burst into laughter, which puzzled both sides. Both groups stared at the fierce-looking wizard; some looked confused, while others curled their lip in disdain, simply assuming he was a madman.

After the wizard, whom he considered a madman, finished laughing, he continued to say to the old man, "No, I'm not asking for a price increase, but there's another wizard here..."

Rita's heart skipped a beat in fright...