Dark wizards rarely banded together because none of them trusted anyone.
There was no special reason for the emergence of Fallen Paradise. They simply wanted to survive better.
One person would get bullied. Two would not. Three could even bully others.
The remaining payment for the job was a lost cause, and they were unwilling to become dogs. At worst, they would make the culprit take the blame.
With the mindset of having nothing left to lose, the four Fallen Angels stepped out of the abandoned shack they had been hiding in.
The narrow alley outside had many branching paths.
Though it resembled a maze, wizards who knew magic would not easily lose their way.
Vincent, who had been weaving left and right through it, suddenly stopped.
First came the crack of air bursting behind him, then from both sides, and finally from directly ahead.
His Gunblade in his right hand aimed at the black-and-white vortex before him, while the Ebony wand in his left was ready to cast Apparition at any moment.
The moment the black-haired witch appeared, the muzzle was already pressed against her forehead.
The other three wizards swiftly drew their wands.
"Stop!" Cheshire shouted at them.
She met Vincent's wary gaze. "Wayne, just as you expected, we all came."
There were nine Fallen Angels in Muggle mythology.
She was rather beautiful, perhaps a seductress angel.
But judging by how obediently the three male wizards lowered their wands, it probably was not because of her own charm.
Vincent did not loosen his grip on the trigger. Instead, he raised the Ebony wand in his left hand.
"Uncle Robards was right. Even after the cleanup, Knockturn Alley still has bad wizards."
The three wizards instantly narrowed their eyes, as though they would utter a spell the next second.