The sea, along the shipping route to Spain in Europe, in the cargo ship's crew quarters.
A crowd stood packed into a shadowy corner of the hold, silent. It was clear they belonged to several factions. Their three leaders stood at the front of their respective groups, watching one another warily.
Even so, they were all crowded on one side of the hold, leaving a wide space empty on the other.
At that moment, Barty Crouch Jr., Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the American Magical Congress, watched them with a sneer. "Remember this well: as long as you damn Witch Hunters—oh, I recall you call yourselves Scourers. Whatever..."
He leaned forward as if to intimidate them, making the people in the corner of the hold retreat a step, even though they had nowhere left to go.
"Remember: as long as you don't set foot in the Americas again, as long as your organization doesn't try to expand into the Americas, I'll give you more support!"
As he spoke, several Aurors from the Magical Congress stepped out behind him. They waved their wands and opened several chests in the middle of the hold. Golden light immediately blazed from them.
Inside were neatly stacked Gold Bars.
Seeing the people opposite him start breathing faster, Barty couldn't help sneering as he continued, "And our great Chairman Riddle has promised that your outstanding achievements will be rewarded: greater power, stronger weapons, and more recruits..."
"Or..."
"the ability to cast spells! After all, you damn Witch Hunters are Muggle Squibs whom our great Chairman Riddle himself has confirmed possess Wizard Bloodline."
"If your parents, children, and relatives share the same Bloodline as you, they might also become spellcasters..."
"That depends on whether you can satisfy our great Chairman Riddle."
"Understand?"
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