Shortly after Scrimgeour and his group left, Nosferatu of the Starlight Men's Health Club revealed his true colors.
He removed the Imposter Mask, revealing a bloodless, pale face.
The waiter at the front desk also took off his mask; his face was equally pale.
Nosferatu the dial of his watch, and a face that would startle Sam appeared on the projection screen.
"Lord Brad, I have done as you instructed and led the guests from Britain to Villax."
"Very good." Bradley Graves, the Auror of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, slowly removed the Imposter Mask from his face, revealing the face of Viktor D. Brad.
He sat in his office, playing with the mask in his hand with great interest. "What a great invention. Once you put it on, even the most experienced Auror won't be able to see through its disguise."
"Indeed, Lord Brad." Nosferatu bowed slightly. "After donning the Defender Robes, those Britain guests even mistook me for Muggle. Our people can finally walk safely in the sunlight."
Viktor put down his mask. "It's far from enough. For thousands of years, we've been treated like a contagious disease. Muggle fear us, wizards shun us. One day, we will live as equals with them."
He turned his head, his gaze passing over the windowpane to the bustling city outside, a faint smile unconsciously playing on his lips.
Vampires have a longer history of hiding than wizards; they have tried countless times to integrate into human society, but all their attempts have ended in failure.
For them, the Imposter Mask and the Defender Robes were indeed great inventions, and the person who invented them not only gave the vampire clan new hope, but also quietly changed many things that were originally impossible.
Following the first Deuterium-Tritium Fusion experiment, Muggle governments around the world sent agents and spies to monitor the Calum Science Center's every move.
Even though they suffered heavy losses, they still did not give up.
Today, the arrival of the Queen's personal carriage and the German President inevitably alerted their keen senses to something.
No sooner had the classified order been passed on than the Muggle governments of various Europe countries and the University of Tokyo jointly announced the successful completion of the second Deuterium-Tritium Fusion experiment. The reactor, named New Century Prometheus, had been running for a full five hours. Today, October 27, 1995, mankind has created the "sun".
At the same time the announcement was made, Muggle leaders from various countries secretly received a document.
The above is a detailed account of the second Deuterium-Tritium Fusion experiment, including the crucial role that magic played in it.
Even a powerful president like the United States president has to take magic more seriously.
Two worlds, which had been developing in parallel for hundreds of years, began to intersect like never before because of a sun that was ignited together.
First, in the Britain, where the Calum Science Center is located, Fudge, still embroiled in a power struggle, receives a request for a meeting from the Muggle Prime Minister.
At 10 Downing Street, the Minister for Magic and the Muggle Prime Minister held the first-ever "equal" dialogue in history.
Fudge appeared in the fireplace with a habitual sense of superiority. He brushed non-existent dust off his clothes, preparing to have a "friendly meeting" with the Muggle Prime Minister as usual.
However, the Muggle Prime Minister did not rise from behind his desk to greet him as usual.
He sat behind a solid wood desk, his hands clasped on the surface, his gaze calm.
"Mr. Minister, please have a seat."
Fudge was taken aback; this wasn't how he had envisioned the opening. He sat awkwardly in the guest's chair.
The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair, exuding a composure that Fudge had never seen before. "Before we begin today's conversation, I'd like to review our 'cooperation'."
Last year, your Ministry of Magic asked us to revise our summer rain schedule for the entire southwest of England, arguing that it would interfere with a sport called Quidditch.
Fudge shifted uncomfortably. "That's for the sake of the international magical community—"
The Prime Minister raised his hand to interrupt him and continued calmly listing examples, "Two years ago, without prior notice, you requisitioned a multi-billion pound oil drilling platform in the North Sea to deal with some 'Fantastic Beasts' troubles, and afterwards compensated only with a hastily written 'thank you letter' delivered by an owl."
Fudge blushed. "Those are necessary safety measures; you can't handle that kind of situation."
The Prime Minister leaned forward slightly, his voice remaining steady, "And what about this year? One of your Senior Deputy Minister, Madam Umbridge, directly instructed my Home Secretary to issue an arrest warrant without his knowledge. Minister Fudge, in my country, we call that usurpation."
"That was..." Fudge didn't dare meet his eyes. "That was a personal lapse in control of her behavior. We've already dealt with her."
"For a long time," the Prime Minister leaned back in his chair, "Our 'cooperation' has been built on an unequal foundation."
He loosened his crossed hands and firmly pressed them on the table. "You show up, make demands, we cooperate, and we're not even allowed to know why."
He paused, his tone unusually heavy, "You see, you're like an invisible superior."
These words were like a boulder pressing down on Fudge, making Fudge breathing rapid.
The Prime Minister raised his voice slightly, his tone carrying an undeniable authority, "However, the situation has changed. Regarding Mr. Vincent Wayne, I can assure you definitively that we will not issue an arrest warrant for him."
Fudge jumped to his feet, both shocked and furious. "What?! Do you know what you're saying? You've been deceived by him! He must have cast Imperius Curse on you and your people! Even Her Majesty the Queen could have—"
The Prime Minister raised his voice again, and stood up to face Fudge across the table. "No one has been cursed, Minister Fudge!"
At this moment, he was no longer Muggle who knew nothing about the magical world, but the leader of a sovereign nation.
The Prime Minister's words were crystal clear. "We know the truth, and we are perfectly clear that Mr. Wayne is not a threat to us."
Fudge's mouth dropped open. "Dumbledore? He told you! Didn't he?"
"No." The Prime Minister shook his head, his tone softening. "Today's meeting is not about you issuing a notice, nor is it about me requesting permission."
His gaze was unusually firm. "This is a declaration that from this day forward, the Ministry of Magic and the Britain government are two independent and equal entities, and we will conduct our dealings based on the principles of mutual respect and mutual benefit."
Fudge finally understood.
Although we don't know what happened, the fact that the Prime Minister dared to say that shows that the Muggle government has plenty of confidence.
"The conversation is over." The Prime Minister sat back in his chair. "Mr. Minister, you may go back now. Whether Mr. Voldemort returns is a matter for your Wizarding World."
He once again placed his hands on the table, saying, "As for our world, Mr. Minister, you don't need to 'worry' about it. We will handle our own problems."
Fudge was deathly pale, his lips trembling, and he couldn't utter a single word.
Like a ghost, he staggered back into the fireplace, even forgetting to grab the Floo Powder.
This time, the green flames in the fireplace did not bring orders from the magical world, but instead took away a ghost from an old era.
Today, for the first time, 10 Downing Street shut its doors of obedience before the Minister for Magic.