"What gives you the right to do this?" Fenrir Greyback roared at Vizet, the shackles around his neck shaking violently as flecks of spit sprayed out.
"What gives you the right to use my name? You have no right to name anything with it! You damned bastard!"
"Since that is what you insist on..." Vizet only looked at him quietly, not the slightest ripple in his eyes. "Then I will take back the right to decide."
"But I still need to remind you... Mr. Greyback, this may be the last choice you, as 'you,' will ever be able to make."
"Don't you try to fright—" Fenrir Greyback's sneering words stopped halfway as he suddenly realized the meaning behind Vizet's words.
"What do you mean?" His cheeks twitched, and his pupils contracted sharply with fear. "What exactly are you planning to do? Don't tell me... I..."
"Yes!" Vizet nodded slightly, confirming the thought in Fenrir Greyback's mind. "Mr. Greyback, your comprehension is quite good. You understood what I meant so quickly."
"I have experimented on you for so long as well, so you should know very well that once an experiment is over, I am in the habit of cleaning the laboratory thoroughly. Especially all kinds of residual impurities—they must be cleaned away."
"In the same way, I designed similar steps into the Ritual Magic. Once the Ritual Magic succeeds, this ritual of yours, along with your memories, will all need to be cleaned away."
"Most of it... garbage... I really cannot find a better word to describe it..." He raised his hand and pointed at Fenrir Greyback's head. "Most of the garbage will be cleaned away."
"You can't do this!" Fenrir Greyback shook his head wildly, as if desperately trying to dodge Vizet's empty pointing finger. "You can't do this!"