Mr. Mystery said no more.
Yet the faint unease in his heart did not diminish.
He felt that his companions were being somewhat careless. Vaughn Weasley's strength lay in far more than just memory magic.
That terrifying man had displayed some masterful political maneuvering at the beginning of the year. With a single Wolfsbane Potion, he had toyed with Fudge and united the werewolves under his banner.
Would someone like that truly be unable to receive any news just because the castle was sealed off? Would he really completely let the North American werewolves run wild?
That deserved a huge question mark!
But—
He sighed inwardly. Things had reached this point, and the separatists represented by John Mir truly were the best opportunity they had found in nearly a year to get their hands on C.
Even if they had doubts, there was no way they could call it off now.
I hope everything goes smoothly—
he thought.
I hope everything goes smoothly!
As he walked out of Knockturn Alley, John Mir was thinking the same thing.
However, unlike Mr. Mystery's doubts and faint apprehension, he was still very confident that things would go smoothly.
The source of that confidence was the werewolf wizards who had gathered under his command over the past month or so, either voluntarily or passively. During the marches, they had vented their emotions and experienced firsthand, at close range, the hostility of England's conservative wizards.
In their fear, they had accepted the ideas he instilled in them—North American werewolves had to fight if they wanted to survive in England.
The lower ranks were firmly under his control.
The upper ranks were much the same. Alexander and Taylor were dead. In terms of prestige, only Bruges and François in the group could contend with him.
There