Chapter 814
The Wandering Puppet
Chapter 814 The Wandering Puppet
"His name is Cornelius Davan! Go ahead and investigate! Use your ubiquitous media power to investigate!"
"Let's see if there is such a person, see if he has the same disease as my daughter, and see if he is still waiting to die in a hospital bed!"
Quiven Martin's roar came clearly to Wade's ears through the communication pea.
He pressed his ear slightly, feeling a little uncomfortable, and casually cast a little spell on the communication pea hidden in his ear canal, making the sound a bit softer.
Then, he casually flipped through a few pages of his friend's book, and short lines of text quickly appeared on it, disappearing before they were fully formed.
Through a network of magic, commands are conveyed silently.
……
In faraway Edinburgh, a scruffy-bearded vagrant is wandering aimlessly along the street, pulling his handcart piled high with odds and ends.
Suddenly, he stopped and slipped into a hidden alley, pulling a crumpled, yellowed piece of paper from his dirty pocket.
Unfold it, and you'll see a series of flowing characters appear one by one.
"Cornelius? A scientist among ordinary people?"
He stroked his beard and muttered, "This is indeed a good opportunity, but it still needs careful planning."
Then, the homeless man turned to his handcart and said, "Guys, it's time for us to work!"
Talking to his car made him seem crazy.
But even more amazingly, his seemingly technologically unsophisticated car actually spoke:
"My God! Merlin, God, Buddha, and the Three Pure Ones, please bless me! I'm starting to really think of myself as a stinky car!"
At that moment, a crooked broom hanging on the car also made a sound:
"You're lucky, at least Locke can pull you around a bit! I've been playing the role of a corpse all day long, it's so uncomfortable!"
The handcart let out a cold laugh: "Ha! I'm pulling you along, what's there to complain about! Last time that damned guy threw all his trash right at me!"
"There's nothing we can do; Locke insisted on playing a homeless man."
The broom muttered, "If you ask me, wouldn't it be much more interesting to take you flying around until we find some dark wizard, find a way to infiltrate their social circle, and eventually successfully get close to that dark lord?"
"Then we'll have to be exposed before that happens!"
The handcart—that is, the Rubik's Cube puppet—retorted: "You brainless idiot, have you forgotten that Locke is not a real wizard? He doesn't know magic, and he doesn't have the mark of the Dark Lord. Voldemort would recognize him as soon as he sees him."
Locke nodded and said, "So I can't go to them, I have to make them come to me... and make it reasonable for me to be unable to use magic."
He glanced at his left shoulder—where there should have been an arm, but Locke had removed it to conceal the fact that he didn't have the Dark Mark.
The short, chubby puppet sighed, "Sigh... I didn't expect this to be so difficult..."
The broom added sympathetically, "You can't deliberately go near wizards, but you have to let the Aurors discover you as a 'fugitive' and then arrest you in 'Azkaban'."
"Such a simple job of sacrificing yourself for free, and you've been doing it for so long with no results, Locke... you're really unlucky..."
Whenever this matter was mentioned, Locke would hang his head in dejection, and the entire puppet would appear gloomy.
Before setting off, he had anticipated that the mission might take a while, but he hadn't expected that while wizards seemed to be everywhere, encountering even one after leaving his master would be so difficult. Moreover, what he truly wanted was an Auror with keen observation, powerful magic, relentless pursuit of criminals, and the ability to recognize Locke's "wanted criminal" identity even when he was disguised.
But the Aurors who truly meet this criterion are either working for the Minister of Magic, carrying out important missions, or have already retired; none of them are the ones Locke could "accidentally" meet.
This resulted in the Rubik's Cube and the broom following him on his wanderings for a long time.
The puppets, recalling their lofty ambitions when they left home and comparing them to their current state of utter emptiness...
They are like children who go to work in big cities. Before they have earned enough to return home in glory, they are too embarrassed to go back and can only live day by day.
Having finally received a message from its owner, the Rubik's Cube perked up immediately and hurriedly said:
"Hey, stop talking nonsense! Locke, what were your master's orders?"
"An opportunity to reconnect with the magical world."
Locke looked up at the sky and said, "We have to go back to London... You'll have to work hard after dark, broom."
"No problem!" the broom said cheerfully. "I can't wait to show off my skills!"
Rubik's Cube hurriedly said, "Hey, before that, get rid of this pile of junk on you!"
The broom chuckled: "No, no, Locke will need to continue the disguise once we get back to London!"
The Rubik's Cube retorted angrily, "Aren't there any other homeless people in London? Is it so hard to collect another set of junk? Broom, you better watch out or I'll take you apart!"
Suddenly, a claw emerged from the handcart, swiftly grabbing the broom handle. Then, various tools, including wrenches, scissors, daggers, and pliers, unfolded from it and lunged at the broom.
"Aaaaaah—" the broom screamed, "I'm going to die! I'm going to die! Have mercy... I'm sorry, I was wrong! I was wrong, okay... I have an important mission to carry out, Rubik's Cube, you better stop now!"
Without uttering a word, the Rubik's Cube ruthlessly pressed the broom into the pile of trash, making it rub against the trash on the ground, and even tried to give it a "massage" with old shoe polish.
Locke stood to the side, saying helplessly, "Keep your voices down, you're going to attract attention!"
The sounds of the Rubik's Cube and the broom stopped abruptly. The next second, a passerby walked past the alley entrance. He vaguely heard the noise and curiously peeked inside.
When he saw that there was only a homeless man in the dark and gloomy alley, a very subtle and strange expression appeared on the passerby's face.
Then, probably with the mindset of "respect but not disturb" and "stay away from strange strangers," he quickened his pace and left in a hurry.
Locke: “…”
He couldn't help but hold his forehead and sigh deeply.
Even as a puppet, he wanted to say... he still had his pride.
Let's take a look at the other two guys who were just making a scene...
Well, a car, a broom... what dignity do they care about? They literally don't even have "a face".
"Clang, clang, clang..."
The wheels of the handcart whirred and rolled, grinding against the uneven ground in the alleyway, being dragged by the homeless man through the streets and alleys of the city.
(End of this chapter)