Chapter 227: Allen Reports Wanda to the Police
"Director, what are you doing, carrying a grown man on your back?"
"At your age, Director, seducing a young patient?"
"Never would've guessed the Director was into this kind of thing."
…
Inside the hospital, doctors and nurses pointed and whispered.
But Agatha ignored their stares and carried Allen out of the building.
"Can't you walk a few steps on your own? I'll carry you again once we're somewhere less crowded," Agatha grumbled.
In reality, the doctors and nurses were all members of the Coven, their memories collectively altered to make them believe they worked in a psychiatric hospital.
All the so-called patients were actually S.W.O.R.D. agents who had broken in, now trapped in this fabricated reality.
"I don't wanna."
Allen pouted coyly. "I just like it when you carry me."
"You're impossible."
Agatha's mouth said no, but her actions told a different story. Deep down, she missed the days in Kamar-Taj.
Well, except for that damned Silence Staff.
Just thinking about those memories clinging to her face made her shudder in disgust.
There was even one time it got stuck to the top of her head, pretending to be a unicorn horn—an utterly humiliating black mark in her past.
"Aren't you going to save the other witches?"
Allen glanced toward the crowd of whispering doctors and nurses in the distance.
Agatha shook her head slightly and said, "I underestimated the Scarlet Witch's power. They'd only get in the way—or worse, die."
To be honest, after hundreds of years of watching life and death, Agatha didn't want to see her followers die.
Maybe it was her age, but she'd become far more conservative in her thinking, treasuring what she had.
They drove toward the town.
First step: find Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, and figure out her motives.
Holding an entire town hostage was no small matter.
Fortunately, no one had been hurt yet—only their memories altered. If there had been any casualties, it would've been near-impossible to explain to the public.
This kind of incident could also fracture the Avengers from within.
They walked around the town, but there was no sign of Wanda.
"Allen, can you use magic to sense her presence?"
At this point, Agatha couldn't cast any spells at all. She was like an ordinary person—but she could still feel the omnipresent Chaos Magic, as if it had expelled all other magical elements.
Allen had restored her memory, so she figured he might still be able to use magic.
"Doesn't look like I've learned any spells like that."
Cleansing Light was a priest skill, not a traditional magic spell.
Besides, Allen couldn't use any of his mage abilities at all.
They concluded that Westview was under some kind of anti-magic seal.
They bought daily necessities and stocked up on food.
Agatha was clearly prepared to bunker down for the long haul.
"Mrs. Massey, who's this young man?"
The neighbor next door noticed Agatha returning with a young man and asked curiously.
In their minds, the neighborhood was tight-knit and friendly.
"Grandma, I'm shy..."
Allen shamelessly hid behind Agatha, acting all bashful. "Grandma, I don't wanna live in the hospital."
Cough cough cough...
Agatha coughed awkwardly and explained to the neighbor, "He's the child of a friend. She sent him here for treatment and asked me to take care of him."
"What a poor child."
The neighbor, knowing Agatha's profession, gave Allen a sympathetic look.
So young and already mentally unwell—truly heartbreaking.
Once inside, Allen flopped onto the sofa like he was back in his own home and called out, "Grandma, I'm hungry. Go make something to eat."
"You're really pushing it."
Agatha tossed him a baguette and snapped, "Here, chew on this."
"It's so thick and hard—I can't fit it in my mouth."
Allen eyed the baguette mischievously, flicking its crust with his finger.
"That's food, not a toy," Agatha said with an eye roll.
"I'm not eating it."
Allen waved the baguette around like a sword and solemnly declared, "This is my Soul-Piercing Magic Wand!"
"…"
Fine.
Whatever floats your boat.
Either way, Agatha was never touching that baguette again.
"So what's the plan?" she asked.
Now powerless and essentially a normal human, her only hope was for Allen to act.
Despite being a Supreme Sorcerer-level powerhouse, she was utterly helpless before Chaos Magic. A direct confrontation would be suicide.
Given her level, Agatha could've lived for centuries more.
"It's simple. I'm calling the police."
"The police?"
Allen stood up and smashed a few windows and knocked over the couch and wardrobe. Looking quite pleased with himself, he said, "That wicked Wanda broke in and robbed the place. Poor little ol' grandma and I could only watch as she walked out like nothing happened."
"…"
Agatha was stunned by Allen's absurd logic.
Still, it was a pretty effective way to track Wanda quickly.
The local police could probably narrow down the suspects in no time.
But with a town of over ten thousand people, going door-to-door would out them long before they found Wanda.
"Call the cops," Allen reminded.
"You're serious?"
Agatha picked up the phone and dialed, knowing they'd need to stage the scene before the cops arrived.
Allen walked right up to her, and while she stared at him in confusion, he started ruffling her hair wildly.
In no time, her neatly groomed gray hair was a total mess—like someone had seriously assaulted her.
Thud!
Allen collapsed into Agatha's arms, instantly shifting to a terrified expression as he muttered, "Grandma, I'm scared... that lady was so mean."
"…"
Agatha looked completely disgusted and speechless.
"I'm already in character! Can you be a little more professional?" Allen complained.
"I don't know how."
Poor five-hundred-year-old ageless bachelorette. She'd never even had a relationship, let alone a child. Comforting a kid was completely beyond her.
"Tch… Fine, you do the crying then."
Switching positions, Allen began consoling Agatha instead. "Don't be scared, Grandma. I won't let the bad guys hurt you."
"I can't cry."
At her age, her tear glands were probably dried up. Even if she wanted to cry, nothing would come out.
Whap!
Whap!
"You stubborn old bat, time for special effects!"
Allen smacked her twice, and the pain made Agatha cry real tears on the spot.
Finally, the officers arrived.
They burst through the door clumsily, weapons drawn. "Florbo, don't make any sudden moves!"
"Officers, we're the victims here."
Allen cried dramatically, "My poor grandma, already so old, and that thief Wanda just walked in and punched her twice! Look at her eyes—they're swollen! How can someone even do that? Is there no law? No justice!?"
Agatha, miserable and speechless, clutched her eye and curled up on the floor.
She'd taken four punches in one day and almost wished she'd go blind just to end the suffering.
What had she done to deserve this!?
"You said Wanda? Do you have any evidence?" one officer asked skeptically.
"I don't need evidence. I can confront her face-to-face. And if I'm lying—may my grandma drop dead right now."
"…"
You bastard! Don't use me for your oaths!