A Struggle Without Limits

"I was across the road, in the gap between two buildings, picking up my hat. The master gave it to me."

Lawrence's face turned pale. He swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest as though he had returned to that rainy day.

"Just as I picked up my hat and was about to leave, I suddenly heard two sounds. Two men appeared in the street. Th-they appeared right in front of that deliveryman."

Amosta nodded slightly and glanced at the emotionally unsettled Lawrence.

"Sit down, Lawrence. There's no need to be afraid. They didn't notice you, did they?"

"I'm sorry, Amosta. I've never seen anything so absurd."

Lawrence obediently returned to his seat. He removed his reading glasses and wiped them with a napkin, then looked at the young master's calm, unruffled expression, feeling an added measure of awe.

There was a group of people—probably quite a large one. They possessed extraordinary abilities and had their own circle, their own organization. The government might know of their existence, or it might not. But if it did, then it was certainly helping them hide from the public. And the young master was a man of standing within that circle.

That was all Lawrence could infer.

"One of them pointed a little stick at the deliveryman, who must have realized something was wrong. Then he couldn't move, like he'd been..."

"Petrified," Amosta supplied.

"That's right. Petrified."

Lawrence stared into those deep, unfathomable eyes, his fist tightening beneath the tablecloth.

"I didn't hear what they were discussing, but after petrifying the deliveryman, those two inspected the parcels he was carrying. They opened one box, waved that stick, and everything inside flew everywhere. There were several black Chocolate Frogs. They picked them out, controlled one of them, and made it fly into the deliveryman's