Come out and have a one-on-one fight!

It's almost midnight on the streets of London.

Rom Roosevelt, who had just left the Ministry of Magic, stood alone on a shabby street.

There were only a few dilapidated offices, a deserted tavern, a dump truck that was almost overflowing, and the old red telephone booth he had just come from.

Luce looked around to make sure no one was there, then tightened his tattered robe and walked forward. With nowhere else to go, he simply kept walking, seemingly content to go wherever the road took him.

Suddenly, a gentle and melodious voice broke the silence of the night and rang out on the street.

"It's getting late, Mr. Luce, aren't you going home?"

Rom Luce looked up abruptly. A woman was leaning against a street corner not far away. She had come so suddenly and silently, as if she had crawled out of the ground.

Bathed in the monotonous orange light, Belvina Black looked even more beautiful.

The magnificent peacock blue imperial dress was gone, replaced by a more streamlined outfit. She wore a black women's blouse with a sparkling gemstone brooch on the chest, a black skirt embroidered with dark red patterns, and buckled high-heeled leather boots.

"Miss Black didn't go home either, did she?" Luce steadied himself and slowly backed away as he spoke.

Just as Belvina was unaware of Luce's true identity and purpose, Luce was also unaware of why Belvina had chased after him alone, and even had the leisure to change her clothes.

More importantly, Luce had not noticed any other people on the street beforehand, nor had he heard the distinctive soft sound of Apparition.

Luce continued to slowly retreat, increasing the distance between himself and Belvina. This was partly to maintain a safe distance and allow time to react, and partly to facilitate his escape.

After all, this street is the guest entrance to the Ministry of Magic, essentially the main gate of the Ministry. It's really not a good choice to confront the Ministry's officials here.

"Oh dear! Since neither of us wants to go home, why don't we find a place to sit down, rest our feet, and have a good drink?" Belvina suggested, walking forward as she spoke to prevent the distance between them from widening further.

If she dressed any more scantily, spoke any more flirtatiously, and had any more frivolous eyes, people would inevitably doubt whether she had a proper job or whether she was engaged in a job where dowry was paid daily.

Although her words and actions lack charm and she doesn't have flashing pink lights above her head, Belvina wins with her stunning looks and immense wealth.

It's worth noting that many eligible men in the Ministry of Magic yearn for her favor; her popularity is comparable to a WiFi password.

The idea of ​​having both a beautiful woman in one's arms and achieving upward social mobility is such a perfect combination that even the turtles in the wishing well only dare to dream about it.

Luce rejected Belvina's kind invitation without hesitation, for any hesitation would be disrespectful to his own safety.

"No, thank you." Luce's refusal was straightforward. "Miss Black has had a busy day. She should go home and get some rest."

Only those in the family know their own situation; Rom Luce certainly wouldn't dare go for a drink with Belvina.

Who knows what strange things might be in the cup?

For example, truth serums.

Despite the cruel rejection, Belvina pressed on, her unwavering spirit like the licking of unrequited love... never mind...

She said in a seemingly considerate manner, "Don't worry, Mr. Luce, there's no need for you to spend money. Although I'm not rich, I can still afford to buy you a drink."

Oh my god!

The last surviving young man of the ancient and wealthy Black family, a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic, actually claims he's not wealthy? Is there any justice left? Is there no law left?

As shabby as the street itself, Luce gave a bitter laugh. His words hit home. He was truly not rich; his poverty was heartbreaking.

"Miss Black is certainly witty," Luce said. "If Miss Black is only 'not rich,' then most of us would have to beg on the streets of Diagon Alley."

"Mr. Luce, please don't say that," Belvina said with a hint of displeasure. "I'm really not very wealthy. Mine and Blake's are not the same thing."

His words revealed a hint of dissatisfaction with the rules, and upon closer examination, it even suggested a desire for some bastard to die in Azkaban.

Luce frowned unconsciously, a movement he himself wasn't even aware of, but Belvina saw it all. Of course, she also noticed the series of emotional shifts hidden deep within Luce's eyes.

Pain, regret, remembrance...

Can humans really experience so many complex emotions in an instant? Won't it break down?

Belvina's interest in Rom Luce grew, and she became increasingly eager to find out who this suddenly appearing male reporter really was.

After a moment of silence, Luce's furrowed brows relaxed again, and a wand quietly appeared in his hand.

Knowing full well that he was just a piece of meat injected with water, Luce didn't intend to continue the argument. Now he only needed to deal with one person on the other end. If he delayed any longer, he might have to face a whole group of law enforcement officers.

There's even a possibility that an Auror might appear.

"If Mr. Luce doesn't like drinking, that's alright. We can come to my office for a cup of coffee," Belvina suggested again. "I notice your robe is a bit thin, and it's a bit chilly tonight!"

The acacia wand slipped from the sleeve of the woman's shirt, and Belvina took out her own wand as well.

As a wand wood, acacia has been consistently criticized by wizards for its eccentric nature. However, this eccentricity seems to suit its owner perfectly; to date, no one in the Ministry of Magic has been able to truly understand Belvina's temperament.

"Alright then, since Mr. Luce is absolutely unwilling to spare the time, I'll let you leave if you answer one question for me," Belvina offered her final suggestion. "But, only tonight."

We are all civilized people. We should try to talk if we can. Fighting is something that happens after the talks break down.

The acacia wand obediently swirled and danced on Belvina's fingertips, seemingly full of flaws, but in reality, it was also riddled with holes.

If the patients in the St. Mungo's Accident Department saw this, they would surely welcome Belvina into their family.

Before Luce could respond, Belvina continued, "You see, you know who I am, and you might even know where I live, but I don't know your true identity. Mr. Luce, don't you think that's unfair?"

As he watched Belvina gracefully twirl her wand, Rom Luce was momentarily lost in thought.

"My name is Rom Luce, I'm a journalist for The Quibbler, and I live in Dorset, in southwest England." Luce composed himself to make his voice sound more normal.

"You're lying!" Belvina's voice suddenly turned sharp. "That idiot Lovegood doesn't care what's going on at the Ministry of Magic! That madman only cares about non-existent creatures like the Curved-Horned Snork! That disgraceful guy doesn't even pay contributors, why would he pay you to work for him!"

"The Quibbler," a unique magazine that publishes news about non-existent creatures and unconventional topics. Yet, this quirky magazine, whose contributors are driven by passion, is a bestseller in the magical world.

Before being transferred to the Public Information Service, Belvina was a big reader of The Quibbler, which, despite being full of nonsensical ramblings, was really funny, funny in every sense of the word.

After being transferred to the Public Press Office, Belvina wanted nothing more than to grab Lovegood by the collar and slap him across the face. Xenophilius Lovegood was either an unknown genius or a complete madman.

So when Rom Luce said he was from The Quibbler, Belvina immediately realized there might be something wrong with his identity.

Upon hearing Belvina's angry rebuke, an embarrassed Mr. Luce helplessly rubbed his forehead. He really didn't know that this magazine was like this; wasn't he just asking for trouble?

"Mr. Luce, are you underestimating me?" Belvina said coldly, as she pulled a thin strip of parchment from her skirt pocket.

Waving the note in her hand, Belvina continued, "Let me see what it says... Oh—ten and a quarter inches, the core is unicorn hair, right? Tell me, if I give this note to Mr. Ollivander, will he be able to accurately say your name—you won't retaliate against Mr. Ollivander, will you?"

Garrick Ollivander, a wand maker who runs a shop in Diagon Alley, claims he remembers every single wand he has ever sold.

In other words, as long as you hand this note containing information about the wand to Ollivander, you will know who the wand belongs to.

There was no panic in Mr. Luce's eyes, which were far beyond his years, nor did he angrily wave his wand to snatch the note.

On the contrary, Mr. Luce was very calm, an eerie calm.

"Oh... well, I can only say this is my second mistake, and these mistakes make me look really stupid, don't they?" Mr. Luce scratched his head awkwardly. "There was just too much time, and I simply didn't have time to make another wand. But Miss Black, rest assured, I have no intention of being an enemy of the Ministry of Magic."

Belvina's gaze fell on the wand in Ruth's hand.

"You fabricated an identity full of flaws, yet you followed orders, leaving your wand information on the testing station. You did all this just to attend a press conference and ask a question about Harry Potter." Belvina put away the note. "Even third-rate detective novels wouldn't write this kind of plot, Mr. Luce. Readers will curse you."

Concealing his identity was certainly to make it easier to enter the Ministry of Magic, while also preventing others from knowing his true identity and reducing unnecessary trouble.

Why leave out the real information? Was it because there were many reporters at the scene, and they were worried about their whereabouts being exposed in advance, or did they not want to cast a spell on an innocent Ministry of Magic employee?

So what is his relationship with Harry Potter, and why would he risk being sent to Azkaban to come to the Ministry of Magic? Is he an enemy, or a relative or friend of the Potters?

"Of course you can bother Mr. Ollivander," Mr. Luce said, "but I have a better suggestion for you. You can ask someone you know very well. If you do meet him, please be sure to tell me about the expression on his face when he mentioned me. Thank you."

This statement did not enlighten Belvina; instead, it made her think of another possibility.

Oh no, this person seems to be coming for me.

Belvina felt that Luce's strange eyes were somewhat familiar, as if she had seen them somewhere before, but she couldn't quite place where.

"As for my purpose..." Luce suddenly laughed, "It's a bit ridiculous, but I attended the press conference under an assumed name just to remind certain people—including you, of course—that there are people in this country who are secretly watching Harry, even at the cost of their lives."

clam?

Subways, the elderly, and mobile phones are making a comeback.

This time it was Belvina, but Miss Blake couldn't understand this great spirit of sacrifice because she was neither noble nor great.

"Do you think the Ministry of Magic would target a kid who hasn't even grown up yet, or do you think a Death Eater's family member like me would secretly plot against him?" Belvina laughed, a laugh born of anger. The unexpected events that had happened tonight were both infuriating and hilarious.

With Albus Dumbledore standing there like a giant, no one with a sound mind would dare to mess with Harry Potter.

Moreover, even the most dangerous dark wizard in history couldn't kill Harry Potter, yet the remnants of the Death Eaters could?

Rather than hoping that these Death Eater remnants would kill Harry while he was at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord would rather Harry die a natural death; at least everyone dies eventually.

Belvina gradually focused her mind and attention, holding the acacia wand obediently in her hand.

Seeing this, Luce fell silent again. He didn't understand why Belvina had suddenly gotten angry when they were having a good conversation.

Moreover, Rom Luce had another unspoken purpose. He wanted to test Belvina's attitude towards Harry to see if the youngest daughter of the Black family knew any secrets.

The test should have yielded positive results; Belvina harbored great goodwill towards Harry and was continuing to convey it. However, the result was also unsatisfactory because Belvina's attitude was ambiguous, making it impossible to discern her true intentions or stance.

It wasn't that Luce, like those reporters, harbored prejudice against Belvina, thinking she was a despicable woman who was prone to lying; rather, the Black family was truly a remarkable family.

"Why isn't Mr. Luce saying anything?" Belvina's pretty face turned icy. "I've always had this very stubborn idea that wizarding society worships the strong, just like Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. And the Dark Lord, he inexplicably lost on Halloween Eve, so he can only be the Dark Lord."

Upon hearing this, Rom Luce was shocked, as Belvina's sudden change almost completely overturned all her previous behavior.

He frowned and asked, "What are you trying to say?"

Luce truly couldn't understand Belvina. Which side of the youngest daughter of the Black family was the real her? Was it the cunning that manipulated reporters, the kindness that choked her voice, or the worship of power and authority at this moment?

What I'm saying is, you don't deserve it!

Before she finished speaking, Belvina had already made her move, waving her wand like a whip, and a spell radiating red light shot out.

Riddler, get out of London!

Stop dawdling and whining! I've wanted to beat you up for ages!

Seeing Belvina launch a sneak attack without any martial spirit, Luce, who had been on guard in the shadows, remained calm and simply dodged the attack by turning his body slightly to the side.

The red-glowing stun spell landed on the protruding wall behind Luce, and the energy contained in the spell instantly blasted the wall into a dent, sending bricks and stones flying.

Before Luce could launch a counterattack, another red spell flew in front of him. Luce had no choice but to raise his wand and use the Armor Charm to block it. The spell that was deflected hit the ground, creating another dent and crack.

Despite having both of her stun spells blocked, Belvina remained unperturbed, continuing her offensive while patiently searching for an opening.

She was like the world's best swordsman, advancing steadily with precise steps, each spell as elegant and deadly as a sharp sword light.

Faced with the relentless onslaught, Luce gradually lost his composure. He kept waving his wand to form a protective barrier in front of him, blocking all the incoming spells.

It must be said that Rom Roosevelt, who infiltrated the Ministry of Magic with a clumsy false identity, had some skills. Although he seemed so disheveled that he could only passively defend himself, he was able to launch counterattacks in the gaps between his defenses and occasionally even deflect spells that were thrown at him back to his own advantage.

Skill breeds daring. It was precisely because of his exceptional abilities that Rom Luce dared to enter the Ministry of Magic alone and test the waters with its senior officials.

Belvina and Luce exchanged blows, their spells flashing with dazzling light, illuminating the shabby street. One dent after another formed under the impact of the spells, making the already dilapidated street even more run-down.

Rom Luce, whose advantage was not in his favor, did not want to continue the fight. He knew very well that if he continued to drag it out, he would definitely lose, either to Belvina alone or to reinforcements that could appear at any time.

To escape this street, Luce needs an opportunity, a chance to force Belvina out.

However, Belvina had no intention of giving Luce that chance. Her spellcasting speed increased, and the spells she unleashed became more and more rapid. Her almost unreasonable fighting style was hard not to give anyone a headache.

With his mind made up, Rom Luce, who was as solid as a rock, seized the brief opportunity after another successful defense and quickly cast two spells, the Stunning Spell and the Disarming Spell, which flew towards Belvina in a rush.

Faced with two spells flying from two different angles almost simultaneously, the wand drew a semicircle above Belvina's head and returned to her. The white light flashed briefly and then went out in an instant, and the Stunning Charm aimed at her chest was accurately deflected; the metal trash can that was originally placed by the roadside suddenly flew up and crashed straight into another Disarming Charm.

With a dull thud, the metal trash can rolled to the side, scattering garbage that had been stored there for an unknown amount of time, and a foul stench filled the air.

While you are sick, I will kill you!

Despite being surprised by Belvina's staffless spellcasting, Luce, eager to escape, did not stop what he was doing, and a blue light shot straight toward Belvina's face.

If that "Sandstorm" hits her hard, Belvina can go to St. Mungo's Asylum for Magical Injuries and, while she's at it, apply to the Ministry of Magic for a work-related injury assessment.

The fierce attack came in an instant, but Belvina did not choose to take it head-on. She lightly touched the ground with her feet, her skirt swirled, and with an elegant turn, she eliminated the crisis.

Then, Belvina disappeared.

Alarm bells rang in Luce's mind. He turned around abruptly, raised his wand, and a thin membrane shot out from the tip of the wand.

The combat-experienced Luce guessed Belvina's plan and anticipated that she would appear from behind to stab him. However, what he did not expect was that what Belvina held in her hand was not a stab, but a large club wrapped in flames!

Duang!

A bright orange-red flame suddenly appeared and crashed heavily onto the thin membrane. The enormous impact made Luce stagger and lose his footing.

However, this was not the end. Belvina gave Luce no chance to regain his footing. The orange-red flames crashed against the thin membrane repeatedly, like birds flying into the forest or moths drawn to a flame, determined to pierce through it.

The intense light from the flames blinded Luce, and the scorching heat made his mouth dry. He could even smell the unpleasant burnt odor emanating from his hair and eyebrows.

Unable to move under the pressure, Luce clearly realized that he had lost.

Once the protective barrier formed by the Guardian Charm is no longer maintained, even if he can Apparate in an instant, the flames that break through the barrier will tear his body apart, causing extremely serious injuries, and possibly even endangering his life.

Just then, the metal trash can that had been lying quietly on the ground took off again, drawing a strange arc in the air, bypassing the defense in front of Luce, and heading straight for Luce's head.

Another staffless spellcasting!

Overwhelmed by the situation, Luce had no time to spare. He was helpless against the flying metal trash can and could only watch as it grew larger and larger in his eyes.

Bang!

Another muffled thud echoed from the shabby street.

The violent impact slammed Rom Luce to the ground. The intense pain made him almost think his soul had left his body. He collapsed to the ground, hunched over, too exhausted to even play his last trump card.

Luce felt dizzy and the buzzing sound was incessant. For a few seconds, he couldn't even remember who he was.

When Luce's consciousness and soul returned, he noticed that the pair of buckled high-heeled leather boots were getting closer and closer to him, finally stopping two or three steps away.

Gasping for breath, Luce strained to see through the pain—Belvina's figure blocked the waning moon hanging in the sky, and in a daze, Luce thought he saw another person's figure. Others had tried to block out the moonlight before.

"Now, let me see your true colors."

As she spoke, Belvina raised her wand and aimed it at the collapsed Ruth, slowly rotating her wrist.