Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

The high priest closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, savoring the fear and panic that filled the room:

“I like the taste of this…”

The floor was torn apart.

A spring gushing out yellow sand has arrived.

Chapter 88 The Magical Ministry and Its Important Officials

Cornelius Fudge sat in the middle of a long table with a bruised face and nose, Dolores Umbridge on his left and seven or eight important officials from the Ministry of Magic on his right.

In another room next door, the instigator of this incident was drinking tea.

It is worth mentioning that the injury on the Minister’s face was not caused by the other party: several loyal Aurors wanted to take him out of the house that was about to be buried by the yellow sand, but the result was...

He got bruised and battered.

As for the Aurors...

Only the head is exposed, and it is wrapped in sand and placed in the office like a silkworm.

"Does he want to go to war with the Ministry of Magic? Just a dark wizard!"

Now it seems that he must be a dark wizard.

An old man on the far right hammered the wooden table angrily. His brown hair spread out like an angry lion: "Breaking into the Ministry of Magic! Injuring Aurors and senior officials - Immorton, this guy who came out of nowhere, is he ready to go to war with the Ministry of Magic, or even the entire wizarding world!!"

He... is done.

A group of important officials: Don’t be impulsive, don’t be impulsive.

"I can't believe it - at a time like this, you actually invited him to have tea next door... I wonder if you have weeds growing in your brains!"

"Rufus." Cornelius Fudge rubbed his temple.

He really didn't want to make a big deal out of this.

In his opinion, it was not a big deal if there were no casualties.

It was such a big fuss, but in the end wasn't it all his responsibility?

He was willing and very willing to meet the other party's requirements and resolve the matter as soon as possible.

He saw it with his own eyes: countless spells hit the man, and after a moment... nothing happened. Either he mastered unknown and powerful spells, or he was a magical creature that had not yet been recorded.

Either of these two possibilities will lead to very troublesome consequences.

Cornelius Fudge didn't want to get himself into trouble, and if a little compensation could settle the matter, he would be only too happy to do so.

After tomorrow, the sun will rise as usual.

He is still the Minister, isn't he?

"No casualties?!"

"Where are Fermi and Mr. Avery?!"

"Where are the Aurors who went looking for them?!"

——It can be put on the "missing list", thought Cornelius Fudge.

As long as there is no body, the person is missing and not dead.

The man called Rufus angrily turned his gaze towards his old boss, tilting his head, his thick eyebrows mixed with a hint of gray.

He stared sharply at the minister who was used to smoothing things over, and said in a very firm tone:

"I absolutely do not agree to 'compensation'! Fudge, we did nothing wrong! Control the risks, keep the magic secret - and the injuries of my men! The dead officials and Aurors! I must be responsible for them!"

Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic.

The seven injured wizards were all his subordinates.

So are the 'missing' ones.

"You don't want to agree to compensation, do you? Fudge? You're the Minister!!"

Cornelius Fudge became increasingly dissatisfied with the ruthless words that exposed the truth.

What happened to him?

You are blaming yourself at this time - Scrimgeour, undermining your own prestige in front of important people. Are you coveting the position of minister?

"I certainly wouldn't agree to that, Rufus."

Cornelius Fudge raised his arms slowly, crossed his hands, and rested his chin on his thumbs: a simple movement, but it gave a signal to Dolores Umbridge on his left.

A signal that almost only she knew.

It has to be said that everyone's wisdom is often reflected in different aspects. Dolores Umbridge, the senior deputy minister, knows her boss too well. This gesture means: he needs her help.

Help with...what?

He wanted to agree to the dark wizard's proposal and cover up the matter as soon as possible: How could anyone cause chaos in the Ministry of Magic? Once the news spread, it would deal a huge blow to the strategy he had formulated during his reign;

However, as a minister, he cannot bow his head personally - this is still a reduction of his personal influence.

He needs a 'compulsive' reason, and he needs a 'despicable person' to stand up and give him this 'reason'.

He needs to keep the corners of his robe clean.

Dolores Umbridge was the reason.

There was no way out. Cornelius Fudge had fallen and he was in trouble too.

The woman forced a smile and knocked on the table, drawing everyone's attention to herself. She glanced at the minister without leaving a trace, and then spoke in a sweet voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Umbridge turned to the important officials, including the furious Scrimgeour, "... Dear Directors and Directors, there was indeed a 'small' problem in our handling of this matter. I think that giving Mr. Immorton and his friends some 'small' compensation is not beyond the scope of the rules."

"Calm them down - let's be honest, if he was a dark wizard, those Aurors wouldn't survive."

"So what? He should be in Azkaban! As for blood-cursed orcs, the magical law clearly states: they can be killed when necessary. What qualifications does he have to come in and injure our Aurors?"

"Maybe... our magical laws are still so perfect? ​​Besides, how do you know that Mr. Avery, Femi and those Aurors are dead? Maybe they are drinking afternoon tea somewhere sunny and warm right now. Right?"

Umbridge replied with a smile to the roaring old lion.

Is the law wrong?

Are you kidding? Who dares to say that...?

—Dolores Umbridge Dare.

She knew who she had to please and who she had to support. She knew how hard it had been for her to climb up step by step; as long as that person didn't give up on her, what did the contempt of the little flies around her mean?

She knew very well that she would be criticized countless times after she opened her mouth; at the same time, she also knew very well that behind the mask of "accusation" were faces that agreed.

Such as now.

"Umbridge! You are dereliction of duty!"

"I absolutely don't agree! What are we waiting for if we don't take him down?!"

"Mr. Minister, please remove Dolores Umbridge. She is not qualified to be a Deputy Minister!"

“We absolutely do not agree to this.”

"He's just a dark wizard. Does he think he can get out of the Ministry of Magic? We've been surrounded by Aurors!"

"We have hundreds of Aurors!"

Shouts of indignation.

however…

When Cornelius Fudge sighed deeply and glanced at all the officials who were cursing with a 'reluctant' look on his face; when he said 'let's vote'...

The scene was quiet.

Umbridge looked at them scornfully.

And raised his left hand: "I agree to compensation."

Only her.

"Then agree to arrest."

nobody.

All the old guys who had just yelled at each other lowered their heads and looked at the table in front of them in silence - as if there was some powerful and unknown spell engraved on the wooden board.

In the end, Scrimgeour was the only one who raised his hand.

Dolores Umbridge tilted her chin up in triumph.

Gave Cornelius Fudge a middle-aged woman's version of a wink.

That's where her wisdom lies.

She knew these people too well.

Chapter 89 Healthy Decay

The consequence of agreeing to compensation is being labeled as weak and incompetent.

On the contrary, raising your hand to indicate your agreement to go to war and sending Aurors to arrest Imhotep - does that mean you don't need to take responsibility?

of course yes.

Once that weird, barely human creature gets enraged and starts killing people - those who raise their hands will be held responsible: it is you who failed to judge the difference between the enemy and us, causing the Ministry of Magic to lose precious combat power...

You are indeed not weak.

But apparently not smart enough.

After all, the situation wouldn't have been so serious.

——This stupid move is to set up a target for criticism.

There is no master who is not shrewd.

They were not like Scrimgeour, after all, the injured were all his men. They were different: anyway, the compensation came from the Ministry of Magic, not theirs - whether it was compensation or sending Aurors to round up the gang...

Silence is the best option.

If you don't express your opinion, you don't have to take responsibility.

It has nothing to do with me.

Irrelevant.

So, in the silence of everyone, the vote by raising hands became one to one.

It became Dolores Umbridge and Rufus Scrimgeour glaring at each other.

"He injured seven of our Aurors! Umbridge! And now my men are still stuck in the sand! Do you know how ridiculous you are proposing?" Scrimgeour half-leaned on the table and roared at her: "Who are we? We represent the Ministry of Magic! Right now! Immediately! Send Aurors to tie up the fool who dared to challenge us and send him to Azkaban!!"

The roar with saliva flying everywhere failed to resonate.

There was something else that everyone in the room was thinking about, something else that Umbridge had said.

Personal safety.

"His magic is very strange. I don't know if it's some newly invented spell or something..."

"You should have heard what I just said: our spell had no effect on him, Mr. Scrimgeour."

Umbridge stood up. Compared to Scrimgeour's roar, her voice was thin and sharp. "If you care about your subordinates, Mr. Scrimgeour, you should agree to my proposal: negotiate and listen to his demands. Instead of roaring like an incompetent, toothless old lion to protect his non-existent empty territory."

Umbridge knew all too well what Scrimgeour was thinking.

He did it for his subordinates?

A part of it.

Others…are more about maintaining their own authority.