Hogwarts: Lacus doesn't want to be a witch who destroys nations.

The air in London's sewers is the final destination of spoiled stew, damp moss, and the dying words of some kind of rodent.

Lux wrapped her signature blonde hair tightly with a greasy gray headscarf, revealing only a pair of wary blue eyes. Her face was filthy from being smeared with soot, making her look like a Gypsy peddler who had failed to cross the border by illegal means.

Holmes changed into an old woolen overcoat with dark brown patches, his tattered felt hat pulled low, and his brass cane, which served as a walking stick but concealed a pistol, along with his deliberately hunched figure, perfectly blended into the somber atmosphere of the sewers.

The two followed Holmes' informant, an old vagrant with a missing front tooth and cloudy eyes, nicknamed "Old Gap Tooth," as they trudged forward, stepping on the slippery moss and some kind of sticky substance.

The old man with the missing teeth meandered around and finally stopped at a relatively wide intersection of sewers.

Here, several makeshift shacks were built using discarded planks, sheet metal, and tattered canvas. Torches were stuck in the walls, their flickering light distorting the shadows of people. The air was filled with a strange, heavy stench, a mixture of sweat and the odor of wild animals.

Two burly guards stood at the entrance, wearing stained leather vests. Their eyes, like those of hyenas searching for prey, warily scanned everyone who approached. On their bare arms and necks, one could vaguely see hideous scars.

Old Man with the gap-toothed man said in a low voice, "This is the Fang Gang's territory. I'm only responsible for taking you this far. I won't go any further. They don't like outsiders."

Holmes nodded, took out a few pounds from his coat and placed them in the old man's hand. The old man immediately took them with a smile, revealing his lisp, raised his hand in a gesture of respect, and hurriedly left.

Lux helped the unsteady Holmes to the guard.

Holmes then coughed violently at the opportune moment, coughing so hard it was heart-wrenching. His body trembled like a leaf falling in the autumn wind, and his throat made a hoarse "hoarse" sound like a broken bellows, perfectly portraying the image of a pitiful old man ravaged by the double torment of age and his Squib identity.

"Sir, please take this child in."

He even shakily raised his withered hand, his cloudy eyes filled with pleading and exhaustion.

"That's what a veteran actor is like," Lux thought to herself, then immediately got into character. She sniffled, her voice trembling with tears, trying her best to mimic the weakness and terror of someone who had just survived a catastrophe.

"Yes...yes, big brother, I...I was by the Thames last night...as soon as the moon came out, I...I couldn't control myself...I woke up covered in injuries and my clothes were torn...My grandfather said that only you guys...can help people like us..." She even deliberately made her body tremble slightly, as if she was still terrified when she recalled the pain of the transformation.

Scarface frowned, seemingly still hesitant. There had indeed been quite a few werewolves coming to join them recently. The guard next to him whispered in his ear, "Yesterday was a full moon, and there was quite a commotion on the Thames. They looked rather pitiful."

Seeing that someone was still speaking up for her, Lux's voice became even more pitiful: "I...I don't know what's wrong, it just hurts so much...I want to tear something apart...My grandfather said that if this continues, we won't be able to survive..." She choked up at just the right moment.

Holmes' cough intensified at the opportune moment, sounding as if he was about to pass out, successfully drawing some of the attention away from Holmes.

Scarface looked at the old man and the young girl, an old Squirrel who was coughing to death and a young werewolf girl who had just transformed and was still in shock. His doubts were largely dispelled. Although Fenrir didn't like Squirrels, the gang was indeed in a period of expansion and needed fresh blood, especially werewolves like this who seemed to have a clean background.

"Alright, alright, stop howling!" Scarface waved his hand impatiently. "Consider yourselves lucky. The boss is holding a meeting today. I'll take you to the outside to listen. Behave yourselves. We'll see what the boss's mood is like after the meeting." He stepped aside to make way for the two of them to follow him inside.

Not long after, a commotion arose in the crowd as a figure strode to the fire in the center of the tent. He was tall with broad shoulders, wearing a relatively clean but rugged dark brown leather jacket, and his short black hair stood on end, making him look very energetic.

But his eyes were like a frozen lake, sharp and cold, with a burning, fervent ambition deep within. His lips were thin, his jawline was hard, and he exuded an undeniable aura of leadership and a strong sense of danger. Fenrir Greyback, a rising star who had already made a name for himself in the werewolf community in his early twenties.

"Brothers!" Fenrir's voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a strange penetrating power, instantly silencing all whispers. His gaze swept across the entire area, like a wolf king surveying its territory. "The full moon has passed, and we've endured another soul-crushing ordeal! But is it merely endurance? No! We were born to tear apart our shackles, not to be torn apart by them!"

He suddenly raised his voice, which was filled with inflammatory power: "Look at us! Look at what we've gotten! Expulsion from the wizarding world! Fear and hunt from Muggles! Hiding in the sewers like rats, numbing ourselves with cheap liquor! By what right? Just because every full moon, the blood of the stronger flows in our veins?!"

Suppressed murmurs and growls rose from the crowd.

"But those days are coming to an end!" Fenrir opened his arms as if to embrace the entire dark world. "I, Fenrir Greyback, have found a way out for our people! A path to glory and dignity!"

He glanced around to make sure everyone's attention was on him: "You may have already heard the rumors, yes! I have received a promise! From a greater interest, the approval of the UMNO!"

When UMNO and Grindelwald were mentioned, a stronger commotion erupted in the crowd, and many people's eyes lit up with hope.

"Lord Grindelwald sees our value! He sees the power inherent in the werewolf bloodline! He promises that when he breaks the shackles of the Statute of Secrecy and establishes a new order, we werewolves will gain an unprecedented status!"

Fenrir's voice was full of seduction, "We will no longer be banished monsters! We will have equal 'human rights'! No more hiding, no more fear of the pain of the full moon! Because Lord Grindelwald has promised to use the most powerful alchemists and potion makers to develop potions and spells to suppress the pain of transformation and even control our powers!"

"Think about it, brothers!" Fenrir's voice was like a dream, painting a tempting picture. "When the full moon is no longer a curse, but a moment of abundant power! When we can walk freely in the sunlight and moonlight, no longer fearing the hunt, no longer enduring the scorn of the world! We will become powerful warriors in the new world order, not pitiful wretches on the fringes! Lord Grindelwald needs our strength to clear away the obstacles, and we will receive everything we deserve: dignity, power, and freedom!"

Although some still wore expressions of doubt and resistance to clearing obstacles, Fenrir's vision of the future was too rosy, especially after the pain of countless transformations and the harsh realities of society. A flame of longing and anticipation ignited in the eyes of the vast majority of werewolves. Dignity, power, freedom… these words they had almost never dared to dream of now seemed within reach.

"For our future! For Lord Grindelwald's grand ambitions!" Fenrir shouted, raising his arms.

"For the future!" A jumbled but passionate response erupted from the crowd, its low murmur echoing faintly through the sewers.

Lux and Holmes observed silently from a corner. Lux thought to herself, "Another one who talks the talk but walks the walk. But... clearing obstacles? Sounds like dirty work. And that potion... hasn't the wolfsbane potion been developed yet?"

Holmes narrowed his eyes slightly, silently memorizing the most fervent and hesitant faces in the gathering.

As the gathering ended, the crowd gradually dispersed, carrying with them vague hopes for the future. The scarred guard led Lux ​​and Holmes toward the chief's office, located deeper in a relatively dry cave.