"What right do you have to do this?" Fenrir Greyback roared at Wizet, the shackles around his neck shaking violently as spittle sprayed from his mouth.
"What right do you have to use my name? You have no right to name anything after it! You damned bastard!"
"Since this is what you insist on..." Wizet merely looked at him calmly, without the slightest ripple in his eyes. "Then I'll take back the right to decide."
"However, I still need to remind you... Mr. Greyback, this may be the last choice you can make as 'yourself.'"
"Don't you dare threaten—" Fenrir Greyback's sneering words stopped halfway as he suddenly realized what Wizet meant.
"What do you mean?" His cheek twitched, and his pupils shrank sharply with fear. "What exactly are you planning to do? Could it be... I..."
"Yes!" Wizet nodded slightly, confirming the thought in Fenrir Greyback's mind. "Mr. Greyback, your comprehension is quite good. You understood what I meant so quickly."
"I've experimented on you for so long. You should know that once an experiment is over, I make a habit of cleaning the laboratory thoroughly. Especially all kinds of residual impurities—I always make sure they are completely cleared away."
"Likewise, I designed similar steps into the Ritual Magic. Once the Ritual Magic succeeds, your current self, along with your memories, will need to be cleaned away."
"Most of that... garbage... I truly can't find a better word for it..." He raised a hand and pointed at Fenrir Greyback's head. "Most of the garbage will be cleared away."
"You can't do this!" Fenrir Greyback shook his head wildly, as though trying to evade Wizet's pointing finger. "You can't do this!"
"Why can't I?" Wizet lowered his voice slightly. "I remember that when choosing targets, you tried your best to