Night has completely fallen, and the Long Island sea breeze brings a biting chill.
The door of the Manor was closed tightly, warm light came from the villa, and the sound of the TV and the sounds of children playing could still be vaguely heard inside.
Outside Iron Gate, the aloof Old Minister still maintained his humble kneeling posture, motionless.
The reporters behind him have stopped pressing the shutter, and the only sounds left in the night wind are their whispers of sympathy and the extremely dedicated sad sobs of Buddy.
In fact, Buddy was greedy. He smelled the aroma in the villa and even had the idea of sneaking back to have a meal first.
Just when Old Minister's knees had been knocked unconscious by the cold stone slabs, and a trace of real despair began to arise in his heart.
Suddenly, changes occurred.
Old Minister was keenly aware that the surrounding air seemed to become extremely viscous in an instant.
A strange and huge energy fluctuation, like an invisible tide, quietly enveloped his whole person.
He raised his head suddenly, his pupils contracting violently.
The reporters who were still talking quietly behind them disappeared;
The two the Boys cronies who never left his side to protect him disappeared;
Even the poor Golden Retriever who had been lying next to his legs seemed to have evaporated without a trace.
There was no flash, no sound of sea breeze, and an eerie silence fell in front of the huge Manor door.
The whole world seems to have pressed the mute button, listening to the famous sword...
Step, step, step...
A steady sound of footsteps came from Iron Gate.
Old Minister raised his head and was horrified to see that Lynn appeared behind the gate again without knowing when.
He put his hands in his pockets, and his dark eyes looked extremely deep in this space, as if they could penetrate all souls.
"Stop your ridiculous intrigues and political shows."
Lynn looked condescendingly at the old man kneeling on the ground, and said in a calm tone, "Your tricks to manipulate people's hearts have no meaning to me."
Old Minister opened his mouth, and a thin layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead.
As the supreme commander of North American Wizarding World, he could not understand what was happening in front of him at all, and what made him enter the illusion.
He still tried to calm down.
Since Lynn took the initiative to pull himself into the illusion, it proves that there is still room for negotiation.
The current situation forces Old Minister to grab any life-saving straw.
He is now in a fatal dilemma.
Edgar already has an army of mutants that are enough for Cleansweep. He no longer needs his black glove that provides "raw materials", and is even ready to completely swallow up everything he has accumulated over the past few decades.
And the unfathomable Lynn in front of him was the last and only life-saving straw he could grasp.
If Lynn is really too lazy to pay attention to him, then this Old Minister is really at his wits end and is left with a dead end.
"Mr. Lynn..."
Old Minister swallowed, gave up all pretense, and spoke in a dry voice, "What do you want?"
"I don't like beating around the bush."
Lynn looked at him and raised a finger, "I just want to ask you a question. As long as you answer truthfully and don't play any tricks, we may have a chance to face the common enemy."
Old Minister's eyes suddenly burst into a burst of ecstasy of surviving a desperate situation. "You ask! As long as I know something, I will never hide it!"
Lynn leaned down, and across Iron Gate, those deep eyes were locked on Old Minister's pupils, and asked word by word:
"Is the core synthesis technology of Compound V... related to Wizards?"
These words were like a muffled thunder that struck Old Minister's Tianling Gai hard.
His old face, which was originally flushed with ecstasy, instantly lost all its color and became paler than the dead.
His lips trembled violently, and he instinctively wanted to retort, trying to pretend to be shocked that he didn't understand at all.
"I... I don't understand what you mean...Compound V is not the biochemistry of Muggle..."
"I said, I will only give you one chance."
Lynn interrupted him directly, "If you don't even have the sincerity to stand together, then you can just get out of the illusion."
Old Minister's last psychological defense was instantly defeated.
"Yes! It's related!"
Old Minister's whole body collapsed to the ground like a deflated rubber ball.
After admitting this core secret, Old Minister's desire for survival made him immediately start making extremely shameless sophistry.
"But Mr. Lynn, I swear to Merlin, I know this is really just a coincidence!"
"Those wandering Wizards who disappeared in remote areas, and those underground human trafficking activities were all done by the gangs and mercenaries under Vought International! I was just confused for a moment, and was threatened by Edgar with Wizarding World's peace, so I was forced to help them cover up their files several times. I have never actively participated in the massacre of my compatriots!"
Faced with this tearful defense that completely shied away the responsibility, Lynn's eyes didn't even show a trace of fluctuation.
He has seen this kind of politician's face too many times.
Whether he actively participated or was forced to cover up, it didn't matter to him at all. He only needed to confirm the essence of Compound V.
Lynn didn't even bother to say any unnecessary nonsense. He turned around, put his hands in his pockets, and walked towards the brightly lit villa without looking back.
"Mr. Lynn! Where are you going, Mr. Lynn?! You promised us..."
Old Minister looked at Lynn's leaving figure and shouted in despair.
Lynn did not look back, but his voice echoed in the space like rolling thunder:
"Go back and ask your subordinate Wizards to work overtime."
"Compile all the current Pharmaceutical Plant locations of Vought International, Society Organization who signed a gambling agreement with Vought, the secret base where Fantastic Beasts is imprisoned, and the exact coordinates of the habitats of Fantastic Beasts that have not yet been poisoned by Vought. Give them to me."
As the last word falls.
Click.
The space was like a mirror that had been smashed by a hammer. It was instantly filled with countless cracks and then collapsed.
"Your Excellency, Minister! What's wrong with you, Your Excellency, Minister?!"
"Bring Potions quickly! The minister seems to be about to faint!"
The deafening noise, dazzling camera flashes, and the sound of waves hitting the rocks instantly flooded back to Old Minister's senses like a tide.
Old Minister shuddered violently and gasped for air.
He was horrified to find that he was still kneeling on Long Island Estate's cold Stone-paved Road.
The cronies around him were supporting his arms anxiously, the reporters were looking at him with worried faces, and the Golden Retriever was still dutifully licking the back of his hand.