"A nuclear bomb!" Fred and George's eyes lit up. Like Wizet, they were immensely curious about just how powerful a nuclear bomb was.
With a Muggle weapon like a nuclear bomb, it was no easy matter to openly and legitimately observe one in front of Mrs. Weasley.
If the two of them acted alone and tried to detonate a nuclear bomb, Mrs. Weasley would definitely plant her hands on her hips and stop them in a stern voice.
But things were completely different now. They were detonating this nuclear bomb not merely for fun.
"What nuclear bomb?" The fire in My Lord's eye sockets flickered, fully exposing the panic in his heart. "What exactly is a nuclear bomb?"
Wizet patiently began to explain, "Mr. Mictlantecuhtli, it is a product of technology. Explaining it would be quite comp—"
"Damn it!" My Lord cursed, rudely cutting Wizet off. "I wasn't asking you that! Where is it? How can it hurt me? How?"
The flames in his eye sockets blazed brightly, as though he were searching for something. Then he sneered. "I don't feel anything at all! You're deceiving me! You damned bastard!"
"You don't feel anything?" Wizet blinked, his gaze resting on My Lord. "Feeling nothing at all—that is exactly the feeling I expected... you to have."
Sensing Wizet's gaze, My Lord seemed to realize something. His trembling voice was filled with panic. "You damned bastard! What did you do to me? What did you do to me?!"
"Or perhaps I should ask a few more questions..." Wizet said unhurriedly. "For example, how did I obtain this nuclear bomb..."
"It's actually rather complicated. I never truly obtained it. I merely borrowed one when Voldemort intended to attack Paris."
"I used that nuclear bomb as a weapon and threw it onto the moon.