"...Despicable, shameless, cunning villains! You threw me and that bastard outside the city, into the middle of nowhere! No backup, not even a ghost around..."
"You had no backup, but neither did he. I'd say you already had a huge advantage."
"You've got the nerve to say that? What exactly did you do to that DeSantis? He kept roaring your name, his eyes were practically spitting fire. When we fought, he acted like he didn't care whether he lived or died! Look at my face!"
"It's just a patch of burned skin. At least you're alive."
"Just? At least?"
"Calm down. Look, you let Jack Graves go, and I didn't say anything about it. How can you have the nerve to hold this against me?"
"...Vaughan Weasley, if we weren't still allies, and if the current circumstances weren't unsuitable for infighting, I'd cast the Killing Curse on you right now!"
As he listened, the argument inside the room suddenly stopped.
Then, the door silently opened, exposing Donald, standing outside, to the two people within.
Beyond the door was the suite's living room. It shared the same luxurious style as the bedroom Donald had slept in, with equally excellent lighting. Brilliant sunlight illuminated every detail of the room.
A desk stood directly opposite the door. Vaughan Weasley was bent over it, writing something on a sheet of stationery.
On the sofa beside the desk, Babajide Akingbade held a glass of liquor and glared at Donald with an unfriendly expression. "What are you sneaking around outside for, boy from the Graves Family?"
Donald ignored him and limped inside, looking at Vaughan. "You didn't catch Jack Graves?"
Vaughan, who had been writing, raised his head and glanced at him before looking at Akingbade.
Akingbade viciously gulped down some liquor and turned around. Only