Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

"Why didn't he say it?"

"Because I heard that they are some remaining Puritans, and the relationship between Ireland and us has been a bit bad recently." Moriarty said calmly like a wise man, "You have dark wizards, and we have similar people."

"You mean...the people who persecuted wizards in the past?"

"If you're talking about the legacy of the Holy See, forget it, you're a bunch of liars."

Moriarty made a joke appropriately, but Fudge stood as a wizard. At least on the surface, he felt that this Muggle disliked the Puritans and was particularly disgusted with religion.

When he thought of this, he felt a little more relaxed.

"Of course, in the end, those murderers must be handed over to us. We need to hand them over to the Wizengamot for trial, and then take them to have their memories erased." Fudge thought he didn't understand, and explained, "That is the international joint organization of the wizarding world."

"No problem, Mr. Minister...but you may need to raise this matter at this year's peace summit."

Fudge couldn't understand. Is this matter not over yet?

This is why he doesn't want to deal with Muggles. In the wizarding world, if a prisoner escapes to another country, he only needs to be caught by the local Ministry of Magic and transferred to the British Ministry of Magic.

But now that I'm here with Muggles, everything is stumbling.

'It's unlikely to be a big deal...Muggles' little minds just can't handle this kind of thing. ’

Although he was so contemptuous in his heart, he still asked: "What do you mean? What does your peace summit have to do with me?"

"Because this time the peace between Britain and Ireland has a lot of supporters from the Catholic Church, and the purgers are related to them, so you need to discuss it." Moriarty added, "I presided over it."

"Those Muggles..." Fudge muttered, frowning.

However, the impatience rising in my heart was suppressed a little.

Since the person supporting the peace summit is British, at least the representatives are just going through the process.

"I can see that you wizards are all very capable." Moriarty sighed, pretending to look at him with envy, "We don't have those magical magics, and we have already paid a lot just to protect peace. "

Fudge was a little hesitant after what he said, and his original disgust gradually turned into pity.

Of course, Muggles do not have the power of wizards, so all their energy is used to launch various wars and maintain post-war peace, which is like a cycle.

But what can he do, he can only be patient.

"You --- what you said is very similar to a wizard I know." Fudge turned his head and comforted.

"oh?"

"Holmes...forget it, he is just a student who has not graduated."

Fudge shook his head mockingly and put a piece of snack in his mouth. He was really busy and confused. What was the use of talking to Muggles.

But Moriarty also lowered his head at the same time, drinking to cover up his trembling eyelids. When he raised his head again, he had another surprised expression.

"A student who can be mentioned by the Minister of Magic must be very good, right?"

"He is considerate and smart... He reminded me a lot. To be honest, even I would be moved sometimes when I read his books." Fudge agreed, "Yes, wizards are so much better than Muggles. "

After the banquet, as a minister, he immediately returned to the magical world and planned to call the Daily Prophet to issue an important statement to appease the frightened people.

Fudge wants to prove that he is definitely better than the ministers during Voldemort's time.

Moriarty was sitting on a chair, and a cat jumped from the Prime Minister's table to his lap. It could be seen from his movements that he was already a frequent visitor to the Prime Minister's Office.

"Humphrey, do you know Sherlock Holmes?" He grabbed a handful of dry food from his pocket and fed the cat skillfully.

His movements were careful, and there was no hint that this was the 'Napoleon of crime' that Sherlock called him.

"Meow."

"No, of course I'm not talking about Sherlock Holmes who works for the British..."

When he came out of Downing Street, he saw Sebastian Moran leaning on the side of the road smoking, with cigarette butts all around his feet. When he saw the professor coming, he did not urge him, but respectfully helped open the car door.

Moriarty watched him sitting in the driver's seat in a daze, motionless for a long time.

"What's wrong?" His tone was very relaxed, and he was humming the Don Juan opera.

"Sir..." Moran saw that he was in a good mood, so he hesitated even more, "The bounty hunter in North America has failed."

Sure enough, Moriarty immediately stopped humming, and the car was so quiet that one could hear their breathing, while Moran lowered his head, drummed his fingers on the steering wheel irritably, and stared at the rearview mirror.

"It would be nice if you waited until I came back from dealing with the German arms dealers. Those stupid wizards in North America are all amateurs and unprofessional."

His tone was full of disgust, and he even started to scold the idiot.

After a long time, the professor said softly: "It doesn't matter, the summit has already started."

Moran took out his wand and wiped it on his clothes.

"Is it delaying, or..."

"When the time comes, Holmes will definitely use Bath Abbey to follow the clues and ambush him." Moriarty said hoarsely, "Don't worry, they can't change the outcome. I will talk to him alone."

Moran was a little confused. He didn't know which Holmes the professor was talking about.

Is it Nietzsche? Or Sherlock?

Forget it, he doesn't care. At worst, both of them will stay.

Chapter 213 (2-in-1) Moriarty’s Factory

Watson found that he was not lying in a warm bed, nor was he woken up by Mary's gentle cry of helplessness, but... the whistle of a train.

He jumped out of bed in horror.

"Where am I?"

"On the way to Heilbronn, the border between Germany and France." Sherlock carried a new set of clothes and threw them on him. "A few days ago, the arms dealer Alfred Meinhard died suddenly, and Someone paid a huge price to acquire the company.”

Watson covered his head. He was still dizzy due to the large amount of alcohol he had consumed... and he was still very hungry.

On the other side, Nietzsche was tying a letter around Crookshanks' neck. Before the train started, the cat jumped out of the window, and the letter would be delivered to Hermione Granger. On hand.

"You slept all day and almost got alcohol poisoning..." Nietzsche said.

"Then I'm really sorry, because I had to drink so much!" Watson tore up his clothes, put on a new suit, and growled excitedly, "otherwise I won't be able to forget how many pounds I lost!"

He had to drink alcohol to force himself to forget the events at the bachelor party.

What's even worse is that he is about to get married, but now he is still staying with Sherlock! Think about it, if Mary suddenly found herself disappearing before getting married, would she cancel the engagement?

With the help of the priest, Watson stood up tremblingly: "I'm getting married in one month."

"Don't worry, Hermione will call Crookshanks after meeting her in two hours to tell her." Nietzsche blocked his escape route, "It would be the most dangerous if you go back now."

This was not nonsense, but the failure at Bath Church would surely reach Moriarty's ears.

Watson sat on the chair blankly, looking at the only unknown person in the carriage.

"Joseph...by the way, who is Mehad?" The priest shook his hand kindly.

"Arms dealer, heavy arms." Watson replied subconsciously.

Nietzsche and Shylock had a clear understanding, and turned their heads at the same time, looking at him meaningfully.

Some people say they don't want to get involved in anything and just want to live their own happy life, but secretly they care more than anyone else. Watson knew that he said the wrong thing, so he tried to find a way to explain it.

"I am concerned about the cause of his sudden death." He said from the perspective of an outstanding graduate of the medical school. "The only people who died suddenly like Mehard were the Riddle family half a century ago."

This surname...if Nietzsche guessed correctly, must be related to Voldemort.

This matter has nothing to do with Moriarty for the time being, but Nietzsche still recorded what Watson mentioned casually, and will confirm it with Tom Riddle when school starts.

"Due to heavy investment, the military factory now belongs to Moriarty, and that place is most likely the base of the Purifiers."

Nothing stands alone.

Nietzsche connects everything that happens in the magical world with the outside world, and he can find the rules:

Those exquisitely crafted, epoch-making magical energy weapons are one of the means of organization, which means that there will be strict production locations. The new E-11 weapon comes from the military factory in Heilbronn;

Thus, the Obscurials from Bath Abbey were moved there, as in Salem at the end of the 17th century.

It was already night by the time they arrived at Heilbronn. As an important industrial port in southwestern Germany that had just escaped the control of the US military, it was heavily guarded. Even in the middle of the night, patrol cars could be seen on the streets.

But it was not difficult for Nietzsche, and by the way, the other three people also experienced a magic spell.

"You take Father Joseph to the residential area to look for those people, while Sherlock and I look for important evidence..." Nietzsche stood in the middle of the road and planned in front of several patrol teams.

But those Muggles didn't seem to hear, they just put their spears on the ground and took a moment to light a cigarette.

It is worth noting that those guys are not beautiful or moral weapons at all. What frightens Nietzsche is that those new weapons have been used on a large scale, and the people here alone are enough to occupy an entire wizard village.

"Are you happy?" Sherlock suddenly asked before leaving.

"I don't bother to answer such meaningless questions." Watson ignored it.

"This is my last adventure with you, so...at this moment, are you happy?"

"Should we chat here, or wait for Moriarty's conspiracy to succeed?" Watson lowered his voice and impatiently pulled the priest into the path. "We will meet at the customs then."

He left without looking back.

But Sherlock was very satisfied with his answer. Generally speaking, avoiding an answer meant that his true thoughts were contradictory to the reluctance he wanted to express. In other words, Watson might be happy because of the stimulation. .

"But at least he will miss this moment before getting married." Nietzsche nudged him with his elbow, "The perfect bachelor party."

Those boxes of flammable materials and chemicals were thrown outside casually, but inside Mehad's military factory, there were endless boxes with labels and orders from various countries on them.

It can be seen almost all over Europe except the United Kingdom, and the handwriting is all in Irish.

Even though Nietzsche had already had a premonition in his heart, he did not expect that everything would develop faster than imagined.

He suddenly stopped at the door of an airtight room, and took out his wand under Sherlock's puzzled gaze. Just now, he felt a feeling---very familiar, because it was related to alchemy.

"Odel!"

As the voice fell, Sherlock and he saw several shining golden runes appearing out of thin air on several large machine tools in the airtight room.

The effect is the same as on the ceiling of the Ministry of Magic.

'Odel' means inheritance and accumulation. From the scene in front of him, it seems to be used to transfer runes such as explosive spells to objects.

"Belfast..." Charlotte said suddenly.

"What?"

"The capital of Northern Ireland, where the British and Irish peace summit was held."

Following his father's gaze, Nietzsche noticed a huge sand table in the corner, on which were the names of various countries and what was about to happen, and the one who dragged the whole of Europe into the water...

It was not someone else, but 'Voldemort'.

Nietzsche suddenly understood the warning that the professor gave him when he came to Quirrell's house that Christmas, and even Voldemort was just part of his plan.

Moriarty's appetite was so big that Nietzsche and Sherlock both suspected what the other party was planning.

They were immersed in shock and didn't notice that there was an extra person behind them.

"The advantage of the Purgers is not silence... Mr. Holmes." The lights gradually lit up, and Moran's magnetic voice echoed in the empty factory, "They can flexibly switch between 'wizards' and 'muggles'."

Nietzsche's heart slowed down for a beat, and he realized the seriousness of the matter:

Those Purgers and their descendants are not wizards, but because of their own magic, they cannot integrate into Muggles.

Therefore, the reason why Moriarty is interested in them is not that they can be made into 'human bombs', but that their identities can be switched back and forth, and the horrible assassination is just a convenient way to use the identity.

And the next stop is Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland, where the peace summit is held.

"Armor..."

Nietzsche turned around, raised his wand, and only recited two words of the spell, and was hit by a blue beam of light, like being hit by a cow, and his head hit the heavy airtight door with a sound.

Silent spell?

No, it wasn't a silent spell at that time. After all, thinking also takes time and can't be done so quickly.

And Sherlock's hand that was pulling out the gun also stopped.

"Put down the wand and revolver, they are outdated." Moran took off his hat and slowly introduced "E-11 blaster, automatic burst, can be switched between stun and lethal, each charging tube can last up to 500 rounds."

He raised his chin, and Nietzsche held one of them at the signal.

While the other party was not paying attention, he tried to use the magic in his body and pulled the trigger, but it didn't work... Without the energy charging magazine, the wizard seemed to be unable to use it.

"If you want to play Western Duel, you haven't given me the magazine yet." Sherlock raised his hands.