Oxford Street Police Station Office.
"What? The British Museum has been attacked by terrorists?"
Kyle, who answered the emergency call, looked bewildered. "Sir, today is not April Fool's Day."
"I'm not kidding! I'm in the coffee shop across the street from the museum right now, just now— 'bang'—"
A loud bang came from the microphone, followed by rapid breathing.
"Damn it! They blew the roof off!"
Kyle finally realized the seriousness of the situation. "Sir, please take refuge in a safe place. We will be there soon."
Kyle hung up the phone and immediately picked up his sidearm from the table.
"Jon, go and inform the chief! Everyone else, come with me!"
The six officers on duty boarded two police cars and rushed to the scene from Oxford Street.
The chief of the London Police was woken up by a phone call while he was asleep.
Was the British Museum attacked by terrorists?
His reaction was the same as Kyle's: he thought it was some audacious subordinate playing a joke on him in the middle of the night.
"Chief, Sheriff Kyle has led a team to the scene!"
The other person's hurried tone really didn't sound like they were joking.
The bureau chief shook his head, got out of bed, went to the living room, and turned on the TV.
Britain journalists were quick to respond, and several television stations had already started live coverage.
Although the live stream wasn't very clear, the billowing black smoke could be seen from several streets away.
"Honey, what happened?" The director's wife rubbed her eyes as she came out of the room.
"I have to go out for a bit." He quickly turned off the TV. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon."
Those thugs who dared to carry out a terrorist attack in London, especially targeting the British Museum, are simply asking for trouble.
The bureau chief strode out of the house, got into his car, and pressed the intercom button.
"Emergency call! The British Museum is under terrorist attack! The enemy's firepower is very strong! I repeat, the enemy's firepower is very strong!"
He slammed on the gas pedal.
"Attention all units! Immediately drop everything and rush to provide support! I repeat, immediately drop everything and rush to provide support!"
The speeding car quickly drove into Great Russell Street, and sure enough, black smoke billowed from the top of the magnificent Greece Revival building in the distance.
The police chief arrived at the scene almost simultaneously with police cars arriving from all over London.
Kyle, who had been waiting for a long time, strode over from the main entrance of the museum and gave them a brief introduction.
The number of the terrorists is still unclear, but judging from the power of the explosives, there should be at least a small team.
"What about the museum's internal surveillance cameras?"
"There was severe interference preventing normal use, and all the security guards inside have already been evacuated."
The chief put his hand on his shoulder. "Well done, sergeant."
Kyle was more serious than ever before. "It's what I should do, Mr. Chief."
Just then, another explosion rang out from the smoking roof of the museum.
The police officers quickly formed a protective circle around the chief.
"Notify the aircrew!"
The amount of explosives the bandits carried was significantly greater than he had imagined, and he estimated that their firepower was also considerable.
The police chief, holding a megaphone, glared at the reporters who were rushing over there recklessly, then signaled to the officers not to follow.
He walked alone toward the main entrance of the museum.
"Listen up, people inside, this is the Metropolitan Police Service of London— "
His response was another loud explosion.
The stone pillars on the front of the building are already cracked, and they will probably break completely after being subjected to the same force a few more times.
"Listen up, you people inside! We will grant you all your requests!"
"Just stop your actions immediately! I can guarantee there will be no direct assault!"
As for whether it's true or not, we'll have to wait until we've calmed down the bandits inside before we can say for sure.
But nearly a minute later, all he heard was the fire spreading from the roof.
"Damn it!" the chief cursed, looking at the officer who was shaking his head at him.
The Air Service is the Britain Special Air Service, which is the SAS that Eric served in before his retirement.
They are the world's first formal special operations force, dedicated to carrying out counterterrorism and special operations missions.
Even if the bandits refuse to cooperate, we must delay them as much as possible.
"Listen up, you people inside! We've come with sincerity!"
Inside the museum,
Peter Pettigrew, frantically fleeing, ran behind a clay tablet covered in writing.
"Da da da—" The Orichalcum Bullet from the Gunblade instantly shattered the mud slab into pieces.
The next second, two red Magical Beam shot towards us.
With a loud "bang," a large hole was punched through the floor where he was standing.
The ancient artifacts whose glass cases had been shattered by the tremor fell down with it.
Peter Pettigrew was in mid-air, transformed back into human form and waved his wand to cast Blasting Curse on the hole above.
"Finite Incantatem— " Two beams of light blue Magical Beam extinguished the explosion.
Immediately afterwards, a figure jumped down through the hole, passed through the thick smoke, and landed on the ground.
"Thunderbolt--"
"Expelliarmus!"
Before Peter Pettigrew could even cast his Blasting Curse, he and his wand were blasted away behind him.
Vincent slowly walked towards him. "I finally got my chance, didn't I?"
Three exhibition halls were blown up, two roofs were blasted open, and countless ancient artifacts were destroyed before the magic wand belonging to Wales was finally knocked away.
With such a commotion, the police outside are still stalling for time with loudspeakers, so it seems the Muggle counter-terrorism forces and Ministry of Magic personnel will arrive soon.
Peter Pettigrew, having lost his wand, kept pushing backwards, and when he knocked over a large, exquisite ceramic vase, Vincent suddenly became distracted.
He took the opportunity to transform into a rat and try to escape, but a dozen or so Magical Beam struck him so hard that he was embedded in a mural and couldn't move.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, her face showing a hole in the fabric.
If he escapes again, the entire museum will probably be destroyed.
After confirming that the rat in the mural had been completely knocked unconscious, Vincent squatted down in front of the broken pieces of the vase.
This is Yuan Blue and White Porcelain; there are only about 300 pieces in the entire world.
Moreover, it was half the size of a person, a true national treasure, and yet it was knocked away by Peter Pettigrew.
"Huh?" Vincent paused, looking at the other scattered fragments of cultural relics around him.
It's all fake, completely fake.
If the method used above to erase traces using Dark Magic wasn't exactly the same as his own, he would never have discovered that these artifacts were created using a deceptively realistic Transfiguration Transfiguration.
If the method is exactly the same...
Vincent stood up and glanced at his watch.
5:33.
The regret on his face vanished completely. He walked over, picked up Wales's wand, and then reached out his hand to Hermione from under the hole.
"We should go."
After catching her, Vincent went back and Peter Pettigrew out of the mural.
How do we leave?
"Use the Time-Turner. The people from the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes Department should be arriving soon. They'll follow the trail of Apparition."
Hermione spun the hourglass rings twice, Vincent secretly spun them one more time.
Shortly after the two men and the rat disappeared, a fully armed aircrew infiltrated the museum.