The Butcher of Hogsmeade

"Before the game continues, I have one more thing to say." Edroy's expression had completely returned to calm, and his tone and manner remained unchanged.

"I'm all ears." Perhaps feeling he had the upper hand, Zeus smiled.

"I only have one question: since Olympus insists on adhering to the terms of the bet, then this standard must be upheld for all time to come, right?"

Zeus's expression changed slightly: "What do you mean? What tricks did you play in the text of the wager?"

"When you asked the question, you should at least have added the word 'also,' meaning that whatever I did, you did too, and you did it first. As two parties who voluntarily and fairly entered into the bet, there shouldn't be double standards at this gambling table; Jehovah, all three of us involved can still abide by the agreement of the bet, right?" Edroy deliberately used Zeus's previous wording, and also looked directly at the referee of the bet.

The smile on the face of the Olympian king vanished quickly, his eyes turning sinister and terrifying, but the cowboy across the table ignored him.

Without hesitation, Jehovah's reply came from the light and shadow: "Yes, the same standard applies to both parties involved in the bet. My sole purpose in being here is to ensure the fairness of the bet."

Beneath the brim of his Nevada cap, the cowboy's eyelids twitched slightly, then he smiled with relief.

This bet wasn't supposed to be fair; it would be great if it could even be guaranteed to be fair.

However, while Edroi was able to take it easy, Zeus was not so forgiving and sternly demanded, "What exactly do you want to do?"

His Majesty the God-King is the only one who is supreme. Except when it comes to his wife, he always takes advantage and never suffers a loss. How could he stand by and watch his rivals plot against him, especially since they gave him advance notice? It's practically a direct provocation.

"Don't rush, let's wait until the dice are rolled before opening the cup. We'll see who wins the first round. What's the point of spoiling it beforehand?" Edroy grinned, turning his gaze to the projection in the center of the gambling table and ignoring everyone else.

Although the three-way conversation and debate lasted only a short time, Shen Hou, as seen in the projection, had already been sent to the hospital and woke up in his hospital bed.

The sky outside the window was beginning to brighten, and the horizon was already showing signs of dawn.

Sitting by the hospital bed were the Pwitt brothers, both of them present. The difference was that Fabian was unharmed, only his clothes were slightly dirty, while Gideon's neck and face were covered with a pungent ointment and thickly wrapped in bandages.

"It's nothing serious, just some abrasions and burns. A little medicine will do the trick, and it'll be fine in a few hours," Gideon said. "Your situation is a bit more serious. The doctor said you have extensive burns on your left hand and left shoulder, and four of your finger bones were broken in the explosion. Your wrist bone is also cracked, but it's nothing serious. You should recover in three days at most."

"Three days?" Shen Hou turned his head to look at his left half, which was wrapped up like a mummy, his eyes somewhat dazed. "Amazing magic."

"If you were in the intensive care unit, you wouldn't say that. You would just say 'terrible magic,'" Fabian said, shaking his head.

Upon hearing the word "ward," Shen Hou belatedly realized what was happening and began looking around, asking, "Where is this?"

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries, we are on the first floor, in the ward for patients with mild symptoms."

"The magic world has its own hospitals?" Shen Hou's tone was half wistful and half surprised.

"What are you talking about? Don't wizards get sick or injured?" Fabian laughed mockingly. "The first floor is alright, you can only treat things like explosions, fires, and collisions. Once you're a bit better, you can go up to the upper floors and see all sorts of strange and unusual illnesses. That'll be a real eye-opener! Honestly, sometimes I wonder how some wizards even survive to be this old."

Shen Hou chuckled and didn't take it seriously. After all, people can't imagine things they haven't seen before, and you can only truly appreciate something amazing when you actually see it for yourself.

"How's it going over there in Diagon Alley? I remember stabbing two Death Eaters, and I passed out after stabbing the second one."

“Both of them are dead,” Fabian answered quickly. “I must say, you’ve really made a name for yourself this time. Antonin Dolohov was one of the few Death Eaters whose true identity was known to the Ministry of Magic; before joining Varian, he had committed serious crimes and had a bounty on his head. After becoming a Death Eater, he became even more unscrupulous, unlike the other cowardly guys. And yet, we still couldn’t catch him. Not only the Auror Office, but even Barty the Elder got a lot of flak for it.”

Gideon added, "The other Death Eater was also someone important, from the Selwyn family, one of the so-called 'Holy Twenty-Eight'; we had suspected him before, but had no evidence. Now, not only was he captured first, but he also died on the spot."

Upon hearing this, Shen Hou couldn't help but feel worried: "Will I be in trouble?"

"Trouble, why?" Fabian asked.

"I killed someone, but I'm not a law enforcement officer; and the 'Holy Twenty-Eight Families' you mentioned, they sound like they're not exactly big shots either."

"What are you talking about, Shen? You're actually worried about this? What's so great about the Twenty-Eight Holy Families? We, Puwit, are also one of the Twenty-Eight Holy Families. This title is a complete joke. I can't think of anything more stupid than this."

Fabian practically jumped off his chair, waving his hands wildly and speaking angrily;

"You stepped in when the Death Eaters ambushed law enforcement officers, saving two outstanding Aurors—key members of the Ministry of Magic's Auror Office; if anyone uses the killing of Death Eaters to attack you, not only will the Auror Office explode, but even Barty the Elder will jump out and curse you!"

"No, I won't jump out and curse." A dignified voice came from the doorway, drawing everyone's attention. A middle-aged man in his forties walked in, his short gray hair parted to the side, the parting as straight as if measured with a ruler. He had a neatly trimmed toothbrush-shaped mustache above his lips, wore a spotless, crisp suit and tie, and his shoes were polished to a shine. His back was straight, and every step he took as he walked in from outside the door was slightly stiff and rigid.

Only after reaching Shen Hou's bedside did the middle-aged man continue, "But I will definitely dig out the person who attacked you and investigate every suspicious detail about him from head to toe. I cannot tolerate anyone making unfounded attacks on a combat hero, regardless of whether that hero is a law enforcement officer of the Ministry of Magic."

After making the above statement, the middle-aged man introduced himself: "Barty Crouch, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shen. I just learned that you are also an employee of this department."

Shen Hou suddenly realized that the Office for the Prohibition of the Abuse of Muggle Items was a subordinate agency of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. So, he and the Prewitt brothers were also subordinates of Director Crouch.

No wonder they were given the title of "combat hero" right off the bat; there's bound to be some suspicion of factionalism involved.