"Mr. Lovegood, please sit!" Liam Graves motioned for Vizet to take a seat. "I only just arrived myself."
"I know more or less everything that happened last night. Not only did you protect the night-duty team, you also shattered the Muggle Mafia's plot."
"For your contributions last night, whether as Paul and the others' superior or as the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, I must offer you my sincerest thanks."
"Mr. Graves, you're far too kind!" Vizet said with a wave of his hand. "I just happened to be there and did what I could."
"Besides, Joseph Bonanno's target was M, so I was also clearing trouble away for M. Without Mr. Smith and the others' help, handling the aftermath would have been very troublesome."
Hearing Vizet say that, Liam Graves sighed inwardly.
It had been like this decades ago, and it was still like this decades later. How had such an outstanding wizard as Vizet ended up at Hogwarts instead of Ilvermorny?
For some reason, Liam Graves suddenly thought of another wizard—Albus Dumbledore.
Vizet and Albus Dumbledore seemed to share a certain ability: they could make earth-shaking events sound like "a small favor."
As if the towering waves before them were no different from ripples spreading across a teacup.
Though the two were somewhat similar, Liam Graves could also sense that there were, in truth, essential differences between them.
The "making the heavy seem light" that Dumbledore displayed came not only from his own ability, but also from a sense of control born of years of accumulated experience.
Liam Graves had not had much contact with Dumbledore, but he had always felt Dumbledore was mysterious, carrying a hazy, indistinct quality.
When he spoke with Dumbledore, he often had to work hard to guess, to think about how many unspoken