In the Super Heroic Age, who could carve out a place for themselves amid the internet's frenzy?
Wizards.
And the most famous among them was a man named Gilderoy Lockhart.
An author, he was also a representative of the Wizarding World and its publicity ambassador.
Through his writing, the veil shrouding that mysterious world was lifted a little.
You could see fire dragons and the yetis of the Himalayas, and hear stories of encounters with vampires.
Vampires, werewolves, and wizards.
The three key elements of Western fantasy were all there.
Through his books, you could glimpse a corner of the Wizarding World.
It wasn't about making snacks from dead people's fingernails or kidnapping people to turn them into mummies.
It was about attending school and venturing into uninhabited lands.
Even those fantastic beasts had, for a time, captured the imaginations of players of a famous pet game.
A police car stopped outside the celebrity's residence.
The police chief looked helpless. How many times had this happened now?
With a headache brewing, he told Lockhart, "Mr. Lockhart, I hope you understand that those masked men entering your home in the middle of the night aren't your fans. They're dangerous criminals who could kill you."
Lockhart said, "We were having a lovely chat."
The police chief had no choice but to produce the handgun. "Do you know what takes lives more easily than disease?"
"The Killing Curse?"
"Wrong. Guns. Bullets," the police chief said, speechless. "He entered your home armed."
"Well, I thought it was a gift."
Who knew whether Lockhart was simply too brave for his own good?
This was already the third time the police chief had dealt with an incident involving Lockhart.
How could anyone chat so happily with criminals in his own home?
Thank goodness the house had