Chapter 774 The Old Man in a Wheelchair

"Is it a sense of sight? Have you seen this bridge before?"

Looking at the majestic rain clouds rolling like a dragon, and the faintly flickering thunder in the dark clouds, Maca had no choice but to stretch out his fingers to prop up an "umbrella" formed by the airflow.

Thinking of the Thunderbird that the man had turned into just now, and the test tube in his mouth, he could guess what would happen next with his knees.

"Good afternoon, young man... Cough cough... I think you are the youngest professor at Hogwarts, Maca McClain, right?"

The old man's voice was mixed in the continuous thunder, but it was still extremely clear, even if the words sounded full of vicissitudes and twilight.

"what?"

Before Maca consciously appeared, Miriam, who was standing behind the old man, immediately looked around intently—is that McClain nearby? I didn't even notice it at all.

At the same time, the other two men in suits also hastily pulled out their wands, and looked at all possible hiding places around them with great vigilance.

"Yes, I am Maca McClain."

When the three of them tensed their nerves, Maca removed the illusion spell from his body. And the moment he took the initiative to step forward and speak, the effect of the Immortal Hidden Potion was automatically dispelled.

Seeing that Maca was really not far away from them, they immediately clenched the handles of the wands in their hands, and their expressions became a little more dignified.

Especially Miriam... You know, she escaped all the way under the cover of Asa's death, but now she finds that Maca just appeared in front of her!

Counting the time it took to intercept the assistant minister halfway, did it take half an hour in total?

"Where's Asaph? Tell me, where is he!"

Miriam's expression could actually be called calm, but from her tone, Maka could hear traces of anxiety without any surprise.

Obviously, although this group of people can bear the sacrifice of their companions rationally, it is by no means out of the kind of ruthlessness similar to Voldemort.

"Asa?"

Maca just stared at the old man, never taking his eyes off him, even if he was talking to Miriam, this was no exception.

"Oh, it's the man in the overcoat, right?" He said, pausing slightly, "Don't worry, he's fine...but I can't guarantee whether he'll be 'well' in the future."

He was used hostages as shields several times. To be honest, Maca wanted to try this for a long time.

It's a pity that neither Voldemort nor Greenwald is a person who accepts this method, and he has never used this method once in the wizarding world!

"you--"

A man in a suit seemed a little irritable, and he almost couldn't hold back when he heard Maca say that.

But he couldn't help it, but the old man in the wheelchair was able to help him hold it back - the old man raised his hand slightly, and the man in the suit could only swallow the words in his throat, stared at Maca and took a step back .

"Ahem, young man..."

Maca was looking at the old man, and the old man was also looking at Maca.

It can be seen that the old man looks withered and thin, making people afraid that he will swallow his last breath at some point; while Maca is a teenager, and people can feel the breath of vitality all over his body.

But it just so happened that these two completely different people had something profound in their eyes.

Maca's eyes were tossed out when he lost his emotions. Once facing a strong enemy, he would naturally stabilize his spirit and cooperate with Occlumency to prevent sneak attacks when others looked at each other.

And the old man's profundity may be somewhat similar to Maca at first glance, but it is definitely completely different in essence. If I had to say it, it would be a look in the eyes that has gone through the vicissitudes of the world but still has a goal in mind.

Maca had only experienced this feeling in Haierbo, whom he had just met not long ago.

"Young man... I have a question to ask you," the old man calmly looked at Maca's face and asked lightly,

"It hasn't rained yet, why do you need an umbrella first?"

What kind of problem is this?

Maca couldn't help shaking his head when he heard that.

He knew that the old man was asking questions about Thunderbird's behavior of flying up to the sky with the test tube in its mouth just now.

After all, mixing potions into Thunderbird's ability to call wind and rain is something that ordinary people might not even think of.

However, Maca doesn't want to be led by the nose...

"Mr., since you asked me that, I have a question." He waved his hands and said, "You can still walk, why do you need a wheelchair?"

After witnessing the bizarre incident of transforming a human into a magical creature twice in a row, why didn't Maca begin to speculate whether this old man who was obviously the leader would also do something that broke through the upper limit of transfiguration?

"Well, good question." After hearing this, the old man nodded without hesitation, "Ahem... But, should you answer my question first?"

But Maca immediately waved his hand.

"No, I don't want to answer..." He said frankly, "If I have to say it, I actually want to stop the rain first, otherwise the guards in the prison will suffer!"

That's right, the old man's method is actually killing two birds with one stone.

If that guy named Seaman did this, Maca would probably be forced to show up, and even if Maca didn't show up, the people at Blackstone Fortress would be tricked without knowing it.

"So it seems, ahem... It's not that you don't know how to answer, but that you don't want to answer." The old man chuckled and said slowly, "Don't stop that child Ximan... Don't worry, those guards will only calm down. It’s just a peaceful night’s sleep...cough...if you sleep in the rain, maybe you’ll catch a cold..."

"Really?" Maca raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," the old man smiled again, "Besides, don't you still have hostages on hand? Heh...cough cough cough..."

It seems that once this person gets old, he will easily choke on his own saliva even if he makes a joke. Maca shrugged when he saw the obviously different coughing sound from before.

"Then I'll just believe it for now!" Maca said indifferently, "So... So... so, your people are risking their lives to create a lot of drama, and the result is to lure me here?"

To be honest, Maca didn't have much sense of reality after chasing and fleeing all afternoon. He only knew that the other party might have come for the bald alchemist, and it should be for the prediction made by the other party.

I remember that Sarah also mentioned that the "Astrological Circle" is a category related to astronomy in alchemy, and there are very few people who can figure it out until now.

That's why Maca can figure out what is the reason why this group of people came to Azkaban even if they died.

But now, he found that the other party didn't seem to have the slightest interest in the prison, but basically focused on himself.

In this way, his previous guesses were almost overturned.

However, the old man didn't seem to have the intention of answering Maca's question directly.

"Young man, do you know the origin of this island?"

Another inexplicable problem. As far as Maca knows, there is no in-depth description of the origin of this island in any historical documents.

Because, before the island was discovered by the Ministry of Magic, it was originally occupied by a dark wizard. And in all the years before the death of the black wizard, this island has not been officially recorded, which is equivalent to non-existence.

"From the death of the dark wizard who called himself 'Extis' to the transformation of this place into the Azkaban wizard prison, most people know something, and I know something."

Maca's answer was natural and of course boring. This obviously means that he doesn't want to talk about this seemingly unnutritious topic.

However, the old man didn't seem to intend to expose this topic.

"Okay!" he said slowly, still in his slow and vicissitudes of life, "cough cough...then, young man...do you know the origin of those 'dementors' on this island? ?”

Thinking about the period of time spent in Azkaban, Maca has really studied this issue.

It's just that research is research. He doesn't want to hold some bloody academic seminar with an old man whose identity and strength are quite suspicious on a deserted island outside the wizard prison in Azkaban!

"The origin of the dementor?" Maca tilted his head, "Is this important?"

"Well, it's really important—it's important to you and me today." The old man smiled calmly, "It's just, ahem... I can see it, I think you probably don't like this kind of conversation The way……"

Just as he was talking, he moved his body with difficulty, and with a flick of his finger, he also propped up a seemingly invisible magic umbrella.

"Okay!" the old man continued, "Since you don't want to answer the question, let's be the one who asks the question! Ahem...Young man, I know you have a lot of questions in your stomach right now, just ask whatever you want!"

"Really?" Maca also hooked the corners of his mouth, "I'm afraid that it would be useless to ask."

"That's better than not asking."

As the old man spoke, his eyes shifted to the sky behind Maca—the sky over this sea area was already covered with haze, and the sky became more and more dizzy when the thunder continued.

"My position is not like yours. If you ask, I will always answer...Of course, ahem...I can't guarantee whether the answer is true or not."

This last sentence happened to be exactly the same as Maca's answer to Miriam, and it was somewhat naughty to run on Maca.

"Well, yes." Maca sighed. "Then, I want to know, are you... related to Rowena Ravenclaw?"

At the same time that Maca said these words, another thunder that seemed to penetrate the sky and the earth struck down, followed by a deafening explosion.

Then, the first drop of water before the storm fell silently on the ground between him and the old man.

The rain finally started to fall.

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