The Butcher of Hogsmeade

As the surroundings gradually quieted down, Shen Hou felt a strong sense of relief, as if he had escaped death, and his body was almost exhausted in an instant; he believed that the other wizards present would have similar feelings.

In the firelight, the tall figure revealed its true form. It was a tall, thin old man with long, silvery-white hair and beard that could be tucked into his belt. He had a serious expression, wore crescent-shaped glasses, a purple wizard's hat, and a robe of the same color. Every wrinkle on his face seemed to be etched with the air of a hermit, but his appearance was somewhat marred by a strangely shaped, long nose that looked like it had been broken more than once.

The old man didn't speak to Shen Hou and his group, as if he had only come over to check on their safety before quickly leaving. Shen Hou only had time to see a rapidly spinning vortex and hear a crisp explosion before the old man vanished before his eyes.

Now he finally understood what those explosions he had heard earlier were all about.

"Well, with Dumbledore around, Frank and the others should be safe too—hopefully they're all alright by now." Fabian let out a long sigh of relief, his legs weak, and he plopped down on the wooden fence by the roadside, his tone and expression as weary as his, barely able to hold his wand.

"Just now... just now..." Peter stammered, even more pathetic than Shen Hou, the Muggle. He hadn't recovered from the panic yet, and after trembling for a long time, he couldn't finish a sentence. "The last person to appear, could it be... could it be..."

"If you don't dare say that name, then don't say it." Alastor glanced at Peter, impatient but not too harsh. Shen Hou, on the other hand, suddenly turned his head and met the strange demonic eye head-on.

The round, spherical object resembled a searchlight, scrutinizing Shen Hou from head to toe.

"You're not a Muggle." Alastor stepped closer, his protruding prosthetic eye almost touching Shen Hou's nose.

Just as Shen Hou was about to explain, he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his neck and realized that Alastor had pressed the tip of his wand against his throat. He tried to back away, but Alastor grabbed his collar and almost lifted him up.

"You can see magic and always dodge it in time; you can also cast spells without a wand—though I didn't understand your incantation. Who are you? What are you trying to do by impersonating a Muggle?"

"I've never called myself a Muggle, and this is the first time I've ever heard the word Muggle."

Alastor was taken aback by what he heard and turned to look at the Pwitt brothers, but all he could see was his face and the real eye on the right side; the fake eye remained fixed on Shen Hou's eyes.

"What are you looking at us for?" Fabian shrugged. "You checked the shack from top to bottom and didn't find anything, did you? We don't have a single magic eye."

Alastor let out a disgruntled snort, refusing to engage in a verbal battle with the Pwitt brothers, and turned his attention back to Shen Hou. The tip of his wand was as cold as a dagger, almost piercing the young man's skin.

"I advise you to tell the truth, or I won't mind giving you a full dose of Truth Potion. Or would you like to experience the Imperius Curse? The Ministry of Magic just granted the Aurors authorization, and we're looking for a suitable target to practice on. Opportunities to legally use the Unforgivable Curse are rare..."

Shen Hou was speechless, his eyes filled with confusion and helplessness; he could tell that the other person was threatening him, but he didn't understand the content of the threat.

"What is Truth Potion? And what is the Soul-Stealing Curse?"

"Okay, you want to play, huh? Then let me see how good you are at lying!" Alastor's one eye stared directly into Shen Hou's eyes, casually releasing his grip on the collar, shoving the man aside, and before he could even stand up straight, he raised his wand and pointed it straight at Shen Hou's forehead, "Legilimens!"

Shen Hou was already in a daze and had no resistance whatsoever, so he didn't have time to react. He only felt a blur before his eyes and immediately saw a myriad of illusions.

The scenes of casting "Aard" and "Igni" had already been "seen" before, flashing by briefly without being "replayed"; followed by several other similar first-person combat scenes, each facing different monsters and using different sign effects: there was "Quen Shield" to resist physical attacks when surrounded, "Yarden Sign" to set traps, "Heliotrop" to directly confront magical attacks, and even one that bewitched the mind...

Whether it was the effect of the seal penetrating reality or not, the moment the first-person "self" in the illusion formed the "Aksi Seal," Shen Hou suddenly realized that he was being attacked on a mental level in reality; upon realizing this, he suddenly woke up.

The moment he woke up, Shen Hou felt as if a heavy hammer had struck him on the forehead. He felt dizzy and fell to the ground.

"What are 'signs'? Are they techniques for casting spells without a wand? Are you a student of Vagado?" Alastor pressed closer, wand in hand, his wooden prosthetic leg landing heavily on the snow with each step. "You've killed so many 'magical creatures' with magic, so you're actually a poacher, aren't you?"

"I don't understand what you're saying at all. What is Vagado? What is a magical creature?" Shen Hou covered his head, feeling a splitting headache. He couldn't get up for a long time and had neither the will nor the strength to defend himself.

If those illusions were stored in his brain beforehand, then the mental attack he just experienced was like someone violently breaking the lock. Although it "retrieved" more illusions, it also smashed the storage box.

More and more illusions surfaced in his mind, spinning rapidly like a revolving lantern. Each scene was only a fleeting glimpse, yet it was deeply memorable, as if these scenes were not seen, heard, or thought, but rather things that Shen Hou had actually done and experienced personally.

It's as if someone who had amnesia suddenly remembered another version of their life.

"You won't tell the truth, huh? No problem, we can try again. I have plenty of patience!" Alastor looked down at the young man, raising his wand and pointing it at his forehead again; but before he could speak, Shen Hou roared furiously, "Try your mother!"

Shen Hou, who had been covering his head, suddenly waved his hand and immersed himself in a vision. He allowed the "self" in the vision to control his muscle memory, and with the flexion and extension of his fingers, a standard "Yakshi Mudra" instantly took shape.

"Go try your mother somewhere else!"

Alastor was careless. He lowered his guard because of Shen Hou's weak appearance—and perhaps the sense of security he felt from his comrades around him—causing his spell to be half a step late.

When Shen Hou's angry roar rang out, every wizard present who knew Alastor witnessed a scene they could never have imagined before: this powerful Auror, as if suddenly losing his soul, abandoned the "Muggle" youth on the ground, silently turned around, walked to the edge of the crowd, and then raised his wand, pointing it at his own head: "Legilimens!"

Amidst the gasps of his fellow wizards, Alastor fell straight down like a log.