Moriarty walked out of the underground exchange. Once the transformation effect expired, he reverted to his original appearance. With both hands tucked into his overcoat pockets and his eyes lowered, he strode toward the subway station to the northwest, like a travel-worn passenger hurrying toward the next stop in life.
In truth, Moriarty was indeed heading to his next destination: Swan Castle.
The trail had gone cold again with the werewolves. Moriarty intended to speak with Madam Swan, and there was a strong possibility that the conversation would fall apart. Therefore, Moriarty needed to make thorough preparations.
However, the vampires would not let Moriarty go so easily. After being driven off by Professor Flitwick, they came to intercept Moriarty at the subway station.
The two sides fought fiercely inside the station, drawing Madame Maxime, Professor Flitwick, and others from nearby.
Although Professor Flitwick was astonished to see Moriarty in France, he immediately fulfilled his duty as a professor and helped Moriarty attack the vampires.
"Moriarty! Moriarty!" Flitwick saw that Moriarty was striking without mercy. He had already brutally killed several vampires, and blood splattered across the walls. Fortunately, this subway station was relatively remote; otherwise, any Muggles who walked in would have been scared out of their minds.
"Moriarty, stop! This is France! These French vampires should be handed over to the Aurors!" Flitwick urged.
Moriarty gave a cold smile, his Wand spinning continuously in his hand.
French vampires were just as foolish as Greek vampires! And French vampires were even weaker than Greek vampires!
Besides, when had Aurors ever been able to keep vampires under control?
Charlie, Madame Maxime, and Delacour and his daughter stared blankly at the slaughter in the subway station. The blood sprayed out by the wounded vampires was like blooms of evil flowers.
Pop! Pop!