Only after the dust cleared did Lin Ze get a good look at the scene before him.
The bicycle was wedged in the middle of the alley at an extremely contorted angle, its front wheel still spinning from momentum with a humming sound.
The basket was completely mangled. Several oranges had spilled out, one of which had lodged neatly in a groove in a Death Eater's mask.
The cyclist lay sprawled across a pile of Death Eaters, his bright purple robes crumpled into a rag.
He pulled the pink umbrella off his face, revealing a long, thin face with a pair of crooked half-moon spectacles perched on his nose.
"Hiss-ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Oof, my back..."
He rolled off the pile of Death Eaters, braced one hand against the ground, pressed the other to his lower back, and stood up with a grimace.
Lin Ze found the scene before him rather funny, but also rather baffling.
Six Death Eaters lay scattered across the ground. Two had been knocked unconscious by the bicycle that had just fallen from the sky, while the rest were struggling to get up.
The Death Eater with the orange stuck in his mask had barely pushed himself halfway up when the man in purple stepped backward onto his face, sending him flat on the ground again.
"Oh... sorry, sorry, didn't see you..." The cyclist hurriedly turned to apologize, then stepped on him again.
Lin Ze: "..."
He felt he was probably dreaming.
A wizard in purple robes riding a flying bicycle had fallen from the sky and knocked over six or seven Death Eaters with it.
Even if something like this were written into a novel, readers would complain that it was too unrealistic.
"Are you all right?" The cyclist adjusted his crooked glasses and walked toward Lin Ze.
His leg seemed to have taken quite a beating too, and he limped as he walked. There was also a tear in the hem of his purple robes, revealing a pair of red-and-yellow-striped pajama bottoms underneath.
"Uh... I... I think I'm all right." Lin Ze looked himself over, then looked at the Death Eaters groaning on the ground.
"What about you? You, uh... from that high up..."
"Oh, nothing I can't handle." The cyclist waved dismissively.
"Last month I fell off the top of a clock tower. Much higher than this. It's just this bicycle..."
He glanced back at the bicycle, which had practically become scrap metal, and his face instantly fell.
"Fixing this thing cost me three months' pocket money..."
"Three months' pocket money?" Lin Ze looked at the metal wreckage, in which he could no longer tell the handlebars from the pedals, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
"That's right. My wife handles the finances. She only leaves me eight Galleons a month in spending money." The cyclist sighed.
Then he bent down, picked an orange up off the ground, wiped it on his sleeve, peeled it, and popped a segment into his mouth.
Lin Ze opened his mouth, but before he could reply, the goblin's timid voice came from behind him.
"Um... esteemed gentlemen..."
Both men looked down. The Gringotts goblin was still crouching in the corner, clutching the tin box, his pointed ears trembling slightly with nerves.
"Although I'm very grateful to you both for saving my life, it looks as though more people are coming from the entrance to the alley."
Lin Ze whipped his head around.
The dust at the alley entrance had mostly cleared, and he could faintly make out seven or eight dark figures moving rapidly toward them.
"Fuck, they just keep coming." Lin Ze tightened his grip on his wand.
"Easy, easy." The cyclist stuffed the rest of the orange into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a hamster's.
He pulled a wand from the inside pocket of his purple robes.
The wand looked even worse off than his bicycle. Several layers of something resembling tape were wrapped around its shaft, and a small piece was missing from the end, exposing the pale core inside.
Lin Ze stared at the wand, fell silent for a moment, then asked, "Your wand... did someone step on it?"
"Oh, this... the dog chewed it." The cyclist sounded unconcerned.
"A particularly rambunctious Jack Russell terrier. Chewed up three of my wands while I was asleep. This is the only one that still works so far."
As he spoke, he raised the wand and waved it toward the alley entrance.
Nothing happened.
"Uh." He looked down at his wand.
"Looks like I accidentally knocked it against something when I fell just now."
The dark figures at the alley entrance drew closer and closer.
Lin Ze took a deep breath, transferred his wand to his left hand, and flexed his wrist.
"Forget it, I'll..."
Before he could finish, a dazzling flash of red light suddenly streaked from the other end of the alley.
The next instant, the Death Eater who had just stood up took what looked like an invisible punch to the chest. He flew backward and slammed into the wall behind him, his mask falling off as he slid down.
Seven or eight more streaks of red light followed.
They struck all the Death Eaters still groaning on the ground once again, leaving them completely motionless this time.
The alley fell quiet again.
Lin Ze gripped his wand, still poised to cast a spell, his eyes wide.
"What..." The cyclist straightened his crooked glasses and craned his neck toward the alley entrance. "Who's that?"
A figure stood at the alley entrance.
He wore deep blue robes and was tall and dark-skinned.
He put away his wand with a crisp, forceful movement, its tip tracing an arc through the air before he tucked it securely back at his waist.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt." Lin Ze let out a breath.
"You know him?" the cyclist asked curiously.
"Mm... we're colleagues, more or less." Lin Ze leaned against the wall.
Kingsley glanced at them from a distance, gave a slight nod, then turned and disappeared.
He had not said a single word the entire time.
Ridiculously cool.
"Is everyone in your department that good?" The cyclist looked full of admiration.
Lin Ze shrugged, glanced down at his wand, then surveyed the mess strewn across the ground.
"Are... are there any more enemies?" The Gringotts goblin poked half his head out from behind Lin Ze's legs, his pointed ears still trembling slightly with nerves.
"Probably not," Lin Ze said.
"Probably?"
"You have to be precise with your wording. What if there are still a few lurking outside the alley?"
At that, the goblin pulled his head back in.
The cyclist, on the other hand, showed no sign of tension at all.
He was crouching in front of his bicycle, now a heap of scrap metal, trying to straighten a pedal bent at a ninety-degree angle. After two attempts failed to budge it even slightly, he stood up, dusted off his hands, and sighed.
"Ah... I picked this thing up at a Muggle secondhand market in London, then put all sorts of spells on it..."
Looking utterly pained, he kicked the front wheel. It creaked, and a spoke fell off.
The alley fell quiet again.
"Sir," Lin Ze tucked his wand back at his waist, "although I'm very grateful that you dropped out of the sky to get me out of trouble... may I venture to ask... who are you?"