Being monitored by Wales would be the best-case scenario.
Although he is stubborn and inflexible, he would never do anything out of thin air.
Now that Vincent has confronted Fudge, at least he doesn't have to worry about being framed.
"I have to go back to school, do you want to come with me?"
Wales was both embarrassed and helpless. "Of course."
Vincent a wicked smile, turned around and walked out of Westminster Abbey.
Wales followed him to a side alley, where he had already gotten into an all-black Bugatti.
As he drove out of the alley, he rolled down the window. "I'm going to test the new car's performance, so don't lose me."
With a throttle input, the roar of the engine made Wales's head buzz.
It's just Muggle sports car; how could a seasoned Auror possibly lose track of it?
Wales quickly regretted it; the black sports car was practically flying.
Even though his flying broomstick was smoking, he still lost track of them just as they were about to reach the Scottish Highlands.
His intuition told him that the car must have been modified by Alchemy, otherwise how could the broom specially commissioned by the Ministry of Magic from the Cleansweep Company not catch up?
Vincent, speeding through the Scottish Highlands, eased off the accelerator slightly when the speedometer exceeded 800 km/h.
Mithril does indeed outperform titanium alloys, being not only lighter but also harder.
The W16 engine is indeed well-designed; simply replicating it using Alchemy far exceeds its theoretical performance limits.
This all-black Bugatti sports car has more than one form; if it weren't for the need to avoid unnecessary conflict with the Ministry of Magic, it would have already started testing other forms.
"Oh no, I forgot to put the license plate on."
When school started, my car was already being watched by the highway patrol because it didn't have license plates. Now, this dream car has broken through physical limits with just a simple test, so it must be on their blacklist now.
Vincent hesitated for a moment, but still opened his contacts through the car's Magical Projection.
Eric, the father, said "Okay" and hung up the video call, but less than 5 minutes later, he called back.
"Good lad, the dream car you built is too awesome."
Vincent blinked his big, innocent eyes. "Dad, I did it to shake off the Auror who were watching me."
Eric carefully examined the incredibly flamboyant racing seat he was sitting in. "A perfect work of art! Good son, your school is about to start summer vacation, isn't it?"
"Yes, next Friday."
Eric's eyes gleamed with a peculiar light. "The Milan Motor Show has been postponed to July this year. How about bringing your dream car to the show?"
It's fine to just exhibit it, but if it were to be put on the racetrack, it would undoubtedly be a devastating blow to traditional supercars.
"Okay." Vincent gently stroked the Bugatti logo in the center of the steering wheel.
Although the 417 km/h speed he achieved in the Bugatti Veyron prototype doesn't count, the 410 km/h speed achieved by a professional race car driver has already set a Guinness World Record, earning him the title of the fastest production car.
And this is just the beginning; Luca and other automotive engineers are working on developing an even more powerful SS version (SuperSports).
Bugatti, which was once on the verge of bankruptcy, has finally come back to life. If it continues to develop steadily, it will surely create more Speed Myth.
Eric Vincent talked a lot, mostly about the design of their dream car.
"Hermione designed the exterior and interior, saying that the rounded shape of the Veyron didn't suit me."
Eric was slightly surprised. "Yeah, you're more suited to a reserved yet flamboyant style."
The car's understated all-black color scheme, the unique aesthetic created by the collision of retro lines and modern dynamic design, coupled with its dreamlike ultimate performance, make its restrained yet flamboyant style a perfect fit for Vincent.
Eric became increasingly eager to get to the Scottish Highlands, wishing he could appear there immediately.
"Dad, how about I stop the car and take some pictures of you?"
"No, this is the ultimate romance for men. I need to maintain my anticipation as much as possible before I see her in person."
Luckily Evelyn wasn't there, otherwise they would definitely have argued if Eric had compared a car to a woman.
"By the way, have you named your dream car yet?"
"It's up." Vincent looked up at the rearview mirror, as if he could see a line of French text on the back of the car reflected in the mirror.
"LaVoitureNoire" translates to "La Voiture Noire".
Hermione also gave her the name, and she even learned some French from Phoebe for it.
"The La Voiture Noire ..." Eric exclaimed, utterly captivated. "What a brilliant name! It'll absolutely blow everyone's mind at this year's Milan Motor Show!"
The Wayne father and son chatted for a while longer about the auto show before ending the video call.
Vincent glanced out the window and realized that they had entered the NC500 Road known as the pinnacle of Britain self-driving highways.
The sparse traffic here perfectly showcases the wild beauty of the Scottish Highlands, with winding mountain roads being a common sight.
Finally, I can properly test the performance of La Voiture Noire.
The roar of an engine, like that of a wild beast, suddenly filled the air as a black shadow darted about on the winding road.
The Wales, who had been chasing after them on a flying broomstick, was exhausted.
I thought I had finally caught up, but I didn't expect to disappear again in the blink of an eye.
Fortunately, Vincent was the one who was mentally prepared; anyone else would probably have collapsed by now.
As the La Voiture Noire grew closer to the speed of sound, Barty Crouch, who had been bound by more than ten magical torture devices, finally awoke.
He opened his eyes and saw Peter Pettigrew, who was bound even more tightly, with a thick layer of glass separating them.
The walls of this place are made of black basalt, and apart from the smaller space, it is a complete replica of the tenth interrogation room on the tenth basement floor of the Ministry of Magic.
Barty Crouch knew about this place. In order to prevent a recurrence of incidents like Luke Wood's self-destruction, the rebuilt Auror Office added a room specifically for detaining extremely dangerous individuals in the Wizarding World.
"Wormtail! Wormtail! Wake up!"
His shouts could not penetrate the thick glass separating them, and with each shout, the fork-shaped torture device went deeper into his throat.
With his throat already pierced by the magic wand, and now being tortured again by the instruments of torture, Barty Crouch's face quickly turned deathly pale.
I don't know how much time had passed, but a beam of light shone into the dimly lit room.
"Stop calling him, he can't hear you."
Barty Crouch saw who it was before the light disappeared.
Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, actually came to this room, which is specifically used to detain extremely dangerous individuals in the Wizarding World.
"Ho—"
As a cold laugh rang out, a fork-shaped torture device tore open Barty Crouch's throat, exposing his spine.
Fudge shook his head. "Barty, I'm very disappointed in you. Back then, you betrayed your own family so you could stay in the Ministry of Magic and continue your spy work, right?"
Barty Crouch was unable to speak. He struggled to stand up, but the circular restraints clamping his limbs tightened more and more.