In the spacious and warm command tent.
Director Department of Fantastic Beasts Management, who was banging the table and shouting the loudest in the Ministry of Magic conference room, was currently leaning comfortably on a soft velvet chair.
He was holding a glass of valuable Goblin brewed red wine in his hand, shaking it slowly. There was no trace of the grief-stricken look on his face because Fantastic Beasts was massacred.
"These damn Vought International, their hands are stretched too far."
The director took a sip of red wine and looked at his Ministry of Magic colleagues sitting opposite with a sneer.
"If they only conduct biochemical experiments in the world of Muggle, who has the time to care about them? But they should never go into the woods and touch those precious magic materials."
Sitting opposite him were Department of Magical Transportation and several other directors of powerful departments.
These old guys all looked sulky and nodded in agreement.
"Who says it isn't?"
Department of Magical Transportation's supervisor snorted coldly,
"My family owns three underground factories that specialize in refining Erumpent horn powder and Dragon Blood liquid. The crazy dogs Vought International have been grabbing and killing people everywhere this month, causing the price of raw materials on the market to triple! If they really capture all those rare varieties and make Mutant Serum, how will we fill out next year's profit report? Will the family business continue?"
This is the real reason why these senior Wizarding World officials suddenly became so tough and insisted on launching a night attack on Vought International.
Everything about heartache and sorrow, and about protecting Fantastic Beasts, are all beautiful words for those stupid low-level Aurors outside.
In the eyes of these Pure-blood masters who are corrupt to the core, Fantastic Beasts has never been a life that needs equality, but a private property and cash cow that they monopolize the market and earn huge amounts of Galleon.
Vought International hunted wildly, and what he touched was not the dignity of Wizarding World at all, but the real wallets of their big families.
"However, this is also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
The Director of the Management Department put down his wine glass, and a trace of undisguised greed flashed in his cloudy eyes.
"Although that idiot named Pist is a traitor, the information he revealed is very valuable. Vought International can turn ordinary people into invulnerable monsters, all because of that thing named Compound V."
He lowered his voice, leaned forward, and looked at his colleagues around him:
"Everyone, think about it. If we can break through this Pharmaceutical Plant tonight, not only can we get our 'materials' back, but if we can also get the formula and purification technology of Compound V..."
When several officials in the tent heard this, their breathing suddenly became heavy.
If you can combine that terrible Muggle technology with magic potions, it will definitely be an unimaginable golden mountain!
Whoever can master this technology will be able to gain overwhelming political chips in the next North American Wizarding World general election, and it will not be difficult to even directly sit on the throne of American Ministry of Magic minister.
For political achievements, for promotion, for unimaginable huge benefits.
This is the core driving force supporting this night attack.
"How are the moods of the boys outside?"
An official straightened his collar and asked casually.
"It's very good, every one of them is as if they had been injected with chicken blood."
The director waved his hand indifferently and sneered,
"It's good to be young. Just shout a few slogans to them to defend Wizarding World, and they will scream and rush forward. Anyway, Auror Office recruits new people every year. If a group of people die, another group will be replaced."
Outside the tent, the cold wind was still blowing.
The nearly three hundred passionate Aurors were holding on to their Wands, waiting for the signal to attack.
They had no idea that in the eyes of the officials in the tent, there was no fundamental difference between Wizards, who were ready to fight for their faith, and the monsters under Vought International who were injected with mutant potions and only knew how to obey orders.
Everyone is just a tool.
Change Outsiders is a tool used by Vought International to plunder capital, and they are consumables used by these Ministry of Magic politicians to compete for interests and votes.
"It's almost time."
In the tent, the director of the Management Department glanced at his pocket watch and stood up.
He took a deep breath and once again put on his righteous, sorrowful and angry face.
He strode out of the tent, stood in front of hundreds of Auror, and suddenly raised the Wand in his hand high.
A dazzling red light burst out from the top of Wand, like a signal flare piercing the night sky.
"Brave Aurors!"
The director used magic to amplify his voice. The voice echoed in the night sky, appearing extremely solemn and sacred.
"Let those ignorant Muggle see that the fury of magic is invincible! For Wizarding World, charge!"
"For Wizarding World! Charge!"
More than 300 Auror burst into thundering roars with red eyes.
Magic shields of various colors lit up on them, and like a raging torrent of magic, they completely abandoned their concealment and ran towards the steel fortress-like Vought Pharmaceutical Plant in the distance without any scruples.
The night attack completely kicked off at this moment.
The director stood at the edge of the woods, watching the backs of the group of young people rushing towards Pharmaceutical Plant like moths to a flame. He adjusted his cuffs with great satisfaction, turned around and walked back to the warm tent.
Next, he just needs to sit here and drink red wine, waiting for these useful tools to place the fruits of victory and the priceless formula respectfully on his desk.