The Muggle Army Specialized Task Force for Magical Affairs (MAST-MA) is a special unit under the Army dedicated to dealing with magical affairs.
This special unit was directly led by Hunter, who was responsible for military command, personnel selection, and secrecy.
Because Vincent is a civilian, he was only allowed to serve as a tactical advisor for non-core military activities, but he was exceptionally assigned to customize equipment, training programs, and provide ongoing support and advice.
After deciding on their responsibilities, Hunter, feeling depressed, went to the liquor shelf again and said, "If I ever end up in a military court, you better come bail me out."
Vincent glanced at the empty wine bottle in front of him. "Uncle Hunter, even if you don't trust me, you should at least trust my dad, right?"
Hunter chuckled dryly, "I guess I've resigned myself to my fate. Running into you Wayne and his son is never going to end well."
Vincent blinked his big eyes. "How could that be? If the troops you lead, Uncle, can perform to their full potential, the Queen would personally award you the Victoria Cross."
"Victoria Cross ..." Hunter murmured softly, then shook his head and smiled bitterly.
He chose a bottle of Glenfiddich Whiskey from the Speyside, Scottish Highlands.
Both being single Scotch Whiskey, Glenfiddich Whiskey has a subtle hint of refreshing pear aroma.
Hunter took a small sip, then put down his crystal glass. "By the way, aren't you wanted by the British Ministry of Magic? What are you planning to do with your training?"
Vincent pulled a thick book from Flamel Ring. "No rush, we haven't chosen anyone yet. Let's look at the book first."
"A book?" Hunter was no longer as surprised as before. He looked at the book, which was much thicker than a brick, with a puzzled expression. "The A History of Magic —written by Bathilda Bagshot?"
Vincent pushed the book in front of him. "Our school's standard textbook, a history book, details the development of magical civilization before the 19th century and can answer most of your questions."
I'm reading a book, and this is such a thick volume.
Hunter's lips twitched. "What about equipment? You're Nicolas Flamel's apprentice, you should be able to build those one-hit-kill weapons, right?"
Vincent thought for a moment, then took out the prototype Dominator Pistol. "Use this as a blueprint, but I will only provide non-lethal weapons."
Dominators are not only usable by wizards; as long as an energy source that can replace magic, such as electricity, can be found, even Muggle can use them normally.
MAST-MA was originally intended to deal with magical matters, not primarily for killing, so equipping it with deadly weapons changes its nature.
Hunter seemed to have something to say, but he ultimately didn't speak.
Vincent is, after all, a wizard. Assisting Muggle in establishing a special forces unit is already a clear overstepping of boundaries. If he were to provide them with lethal weapons, he would be nothing short of a witch traitor.
Moreover, there are International Statute of Secrecy in place, and if things are exposed, he will become the enemy of all wizards.
"Enough of that," Hunter said, raising his glass high. "Come on, let's drink!"
The next day at noon, Vincent woke up groggily from his slumped position on the bar.
He looked at Hunter, who was still fast asleep beside him, and took out two bottles of hangover remedy from the Flamel Ring.
I'll drink one bottle myself and leave the other for Henry.
Vincent checked the time, wrote the note, and quietly left the room.
Although the formation of MAST-MA was unexpected, he had actually considered the possibility of cooperation between wizards and Muggle long ago.
Britain is now shrouded in a huge gloom; the Wizarding World is preoccupied with its own problems, Muggle can only rely on themselves.
Vincent drove the La Voiture Noire away from the Lein Hotel, found a restaurant to have lunch, and then continued driving to a relatively secluded monastery in the Christian district, the New Gate Monastery.
Erich von Grünewald, head of the Middle East Branch of the Wizards' Purity Party), is of German-Arab Half-blood, or more precisely, Half-blood of German Muggle and Arab wizard.
His father, Old Grindelwald., was a World War I veteran. At that time, the fighting in the Middle East was not only about territorial disputes, but also about the control of oil resources and future geopolitical arrangements.
After being sent to the Middle East, Old Grindelwald met an Arab witch by chance. In the end, tired of the war, Old Grindelwald decided to fake his death and stay in the Middle East.
When Erich was young, World War II broke out, and the high war reparations from the Treaty of Versailles gave rise to Hitler. Although the Middle East was not the main battlefield, it was also a nexus for the strategic struggle between the Allies and the Axis powers.
The flames of war were reignited, and it was at this moment that Grindelwald arrived.
Having witnessed the brutality of the Muggle Wars firsthand, Erich decided to join the Wizards' Purity Party for the sake of peace, Middle East Branch can be said to have been built brick by brick by him.
After Grindelwald was defeated by Dumbledore, he did not lose heart, but continued to secretly run the Middle East Branch.
As for whether his ideals still exist, that needs to be confirmed.
Vincent entered the New Gate Monastery, his eyes sweeping over the confessionals used for repentance and spiritual purification.
His gaze was fixed on number 7, where he could vaguely sense a faint magical aura.
He went straight to confessional room number 7, lifted the dark curtain, and entered the private cubicle belonging to the believers.
Just as I sat down, a hoarse, husky voice came from the clergy's cubicle on the other side of the grid window:
"My dear child, are you willing to confess your sins to me? Rest assured, God has sent me to help you. As long as you have a repentant heart, God will forgive you."
Vincent raised his hand and tapped lightly on the grid window. "Mr. Grünewald, shall we go through the formalities or just get straight to the point?"
"Let's go through the procedures."
Do we really need to be this cautious?
Vincent made the sign of the cross. "Father, I am guilty, but I don't know what I have sinned. Can you answer my question?"
After a brief silence, a hoarse, husky voice came through the grid window again:
"Everyone is guilty, my dear child. Please tell me what you have done and what you want to do. Let's analyze the reasons together and find ways to correct them."
Vincent calmly said, "I have uncovered a truth and saved a group of criminals who have been imprisoned for half a century. In the future, I will uncover the truth of the world."
There was a long silence on the other end, and he patiently waited for a reply.
"In the name of God—" the hoarse voice seemed to tremble, "Child, I declare you innocent."
An old face suddenly appeared in the grid window opposite.
He had a long, silvery-white beard, and his eyes shone like torches. "Successor of the prophet Grindelwald, what truth do you wish to uncover?"
Vincent's deep blue eyes revealed his dissatisfaction.
These Wizards' Purity Party branch leaders are really something, how come they all start by calling themselves the successors of the prophet Grindelwald?
He met Erich's brown eyes, which gleamed in the darkness, and said, "Uncover the deepest hidden truths of the human world."
Erich's aged face trembled as he stared intently into those deep, azure eyes, as dark as a starry sea. "So that's how it is..."
He ripped the Deathly Hallows necklace off his neck. "Vincent Wayne, I pledge my allegiance to you."