Until the Scabby Toad Tavern fell silent, the screams gradually ceased. Only then did Daily Prophet reporter Mike Arthur poke his head out from behind a trash can, his eyes wide with shock.
Good heavens! What... what on earth was happening?! Was this some new official making a statement?
Knockturn Alley had always been a tumour in the wizarding world, but it happened to be entangled with various factions, so the Ministry of Magic had always turned a blind eye to it. But who would have thought that today suddenly...
This must have offended some powerful faction that came to exterminate them!
Mike's nostrils flared as he caught the scent of a super explosive story. In his mind, he could already see his article crushing that awful woman Rita. He crouched low, carefully creeping closer.
Poking his head out, he peered through the broken window. This sight nearly made him vomit on the spot!
Hell on earth... this was simply hell on earth!
Not a single dark wizard left in the tavern survived; all had been brutally eliminated in extremely decisive ways. If the Dementor's Kiss was the most severe spiritual punishment, then this was the most thorough and terrifying physical justice.
Mike recognised one of the dead as a wanted criminal recently featured in the newspapers. Simply because he made eye contact with someone while walking on the street, he pulled out his wand from behind and took that person's life, destroying several families. Because he was skilled at facial transformation and cautious, capture operations had been difficult.
Now it was over... no need to catch him anymore. He'd gone straight to meet Merlin.
"Good riddance!" Mike spat on the ground and cursed under his breath.
He calmed himself and slowly walked inside, both vigilant and excitedly clicking his camera shutter.
"Lamp... it's Mr. Lamp..."
Hmm? Mike caught a faint voice from the floor. But before he could ask more, the voice fell silent.
Mr. Lamp...? He'd never heard of it.
Mike walked deeper into the tavern while puzzled. Stepping over a tall figure, he peeked into a door.
Mike gasped and quickly closed his eyes, muttering prayers to Merlin while making protective gestures. He was a Muggle-wizard mixed blood and often visited various cultural districts near Charing Cross Road.
After accumulating enough courage, Mike opened his eyes and mustered the nerve to go in and take photos. Suddenly, he noticed a familiar figure lying in the corner.
"Hmm? That's... Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart?!"
Mike immediately panicked, rushing over and kneeling down, urgently shaking Lockhart's shoulders.
"Mr. Lockhart! Mr. Lockhart! Wake up!"
"Oh, oh? What... what happened to me...?"
"Thank Merlin you're alive! Mr. Lockhart, look at me... I'm here..."
"Oh, ah?"
"Come on, one-two-three... smile!"
"Click!"
Blinding white light flashed, forever capturing Lockhart's most dishevelled moment. Under Lockhart's confused gaze, Mike looked at his camera with satisfaction, thinking confidently: This time the prize money was definitely his!
At Marcus Mansion...
"Young... young master, there's a letter for you..." the house-elf said fearfully and respectfully.
"Put it there!" The wealthy young master Marcus, who was also the client who had posted the commission in the newspaper after being scammed in Knockturn Alley, shouted impatiently without looking up.
He had his hands folded behind his head, his hair dishevelled like a bird's nest, his eyes bloodshot, staring intently at the newspaper spread before him, looking extremely anxious and terrified.
This made the house-elf Micky very worried.
"Ever since seeing this morning's Daily Prophet, young master hasn't smiled... Bad Micky, bringing young master bad newspapers, bad Micky!"
"CRACK!" A crisp sound, then silence. She Disapparated away.
Marcus stared intently at the Daily Prophet's front page, muttering continuously: "How could this happen... total elimination? No, this must just be a coincidence... it has nothing to do with me..."
The front-page story read:
Major Documentary: "The Last Days of Knockturn Alley Dark Wizards"
Some dark wizards are suspected to have offended an unknown large organisation, bringing fatal disaster upon themselves. According to Auror statistics, there were at least seventeen casualties at the scene, too disturbing to describe, preliminarily judged as vigilante justice...
The mysterious Mr. Lamp merely made a slight move and defeated an entire tavern of dark wizards, even easily overwhelming the famous wizard Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart!
Although the latter repeatedly insisted that his opponent used cunning methods and that he deliberately held back...
Another individual who came with Lockhart has contacted us and is currently safe
Reported by our correspondent, Mike Arthur
Seventeen dark wizards?!
The wealthy young Marcus felt dizzy and lightheaded. Even during You-Know-Who's most rampant period, seventeen people rarely disappeared at once!
What... what kind of existence was that "Mr. Lamp"... it shouldn't be related to his commission, right?
Marcus only knew that Gilderoy Lockhart and another person had accepted his commission. The other person's letter bore no signature, only asking him to send commission details.
Could it be that person...
"No, it shouldn't be." Marcus stood up anxiously, muttering: "What virtue or ability do I have to make the head of a large organisation personally intervene... this is just a minor commission..."
Thinking this way, he felt somewhat better. Turning his head, he saw the letter on the cabinet and walked over.
Picking up the letter, he looked at the blank envelope without a signature, puzzled and impatient. "Who sent this? Could it be those persistent reporters again...!"
Marcus suddenly froze in place, his face instantly turning deathly pale. The opened letter slipped from his hand to the floor.
It contained a simple line:
Your commission has been successfully completed. Awaiting your payment.
Mr. Lamp
"Micky!"
"CRACK!"
"Young master! Are you alright? What's wrong?!"
"Don't touch me!" Marcus shoved away the elf's hand, leaning against the cabinet, covering his face, saying in terror: "Go... go to Gringotts and withdraw money... one thousand, no... directly withdraw two thousand Galleons for me!"
"Young master!" The house-elf's eyes widened.
Two thousand Galleons! This was definitely not a small sum. Who was this person... to make the usually fearless young master so panicked...?
"Yes! Young master! Micky will do it immediately!"
With a crack, the house-elf disappeared.
"Now to write a reply must be careful and respectful with the wording." Marcus stumbled toward the desk and sat down heavily, sweating profusely.
The rest could only be left to prayers to Merlin. Who would have thought that after You-Know-Who, there would be such a terrifying mysterious organisation?
Grindelwald connected to Dumbledore, You-Know-Who from Britain, and now this merciless "Mr. Lamp" appearing...
Hmm. Move to Germany and inherit the dreary, boring family business. The British magical world was too dangerous.