The atmosphere in the bar suddenly shifted. Felix noticed two individuals casually reaching into their pockets, then the man sitting across from them cleared his throat, and a few discreet hands returned to the table.

"Mr. Harp, I assure you, there will be no fighting tonight. We've come for peace," the man declared.

"It doesn't seem that way," Felix tilted his head slightly. "At least, Lady Rosmerta wouldn't agree." At that moment, the bar's landlady was quietly busy behind the counter, seemingly unaware of the undercurrents swirling around this side of the room.

"She'll be fine," Noelassured, his voice firm. "Just a precautionary measure."

"In that case, why don't you let it go? Otherwise, I might think you're up to no good," Felix replied with a smile, his tone subtly insistent.

After a few seconds of silence, Noel nodded slightly, and a glimmer of awareness passed through Lady Rosmerta's eyes, only to be replaced by fear almost immediately.

She let out a scream.

"Lady Rosmerta, I'll have another... just chilled lemonade, please," Felix said gently. Lady Rosmerta glanced nervously in their direction, somewhat flustered as she replied, "Oh, yes, Mr. Harp, of course." By the end, she had regained her composure.

The sound of clinking glasses at the counter seemed loud in the quiet space.

"Mr. Harp, I've been abroad these past few years, and your name comes up every now and then. But each time, it's overshadowed by the invention of exclusive wands, a phenomenon even surpassing Voldemort's downfall. Would you like to hear more?" the man asked.

At that moment, Lady Rosmerta brought over the lemonade, placing it beside Felix, giving him two drinks. Of course, there was nothing on the opposite side, and she didn't inquire about the man sitting across from them. Instead, she shot him a glare, then quickly retreated behind the counter, peeking out cautiously.

Felix pushed one of the drinks towards the man, gesturing, "It's on me."

"In that case, thank you," Noel replied calmly, taking a sip from his glass before continuing, "The Future World Company has grown into a behemoth, with stores in every magical community. Rumor has it even the merfolk tribe underwater can now record their own songs."

Felix's interest was piqued. During the summer break, he had arranged for the company to recruit a batch of humanoid magical creatures. In his mind, this was the seed of the Pan-Magical Union. After several years of development, it not only opened up new sales channels for the company but also provided valuable experience in dealing with different races, establishing effective communication methods based on mutual trust.

As for the branches scattered around the world, they were also an important means of promoting ancient magical scripts. Magical script cards, wizard cards, small magical script booklets... were all sold at cost price, if not given away. Not to mention—something Felix had just thought of—these branches served as an intangible constraint on Gringotts.

So far, the plan seemed to be progressing well.

"...Almost every magical department is in an uproar over exclusive wands. You see, although the number of Squibs remaining in the magical world is not large, most of them still live in the magical community. However... they also have relatives, especially those whose parents are still alive, who received the news almost immediately. Of course, not all Squibs are willing to return. Many have already established their own families. But it must be admitted that almost all Squibs have a passion for magic. They don't mind having a wand, even if it's only for cleaning the house or commanding some little trinket to float around."

The man chuckled.

"A few days ago, some Squibs protested at the American Ministry of Magic headquarters. They had support behind them—many of them even came from prominent wizarding families and had relatives related to the big shots making decisions in Woolworths Building."

"What about the Reformers? What have they done?" Felix inquired.

"Their ideology is good, but their methods are still immature. One day, they'll be at the decision-making table, considering these troublesome issues. For now, their opinions are irrelevant."

The man continued, seeming disdainful, then added, "The new International Confederation of Wizards President, Babajide Akingbade, is at his wit's end. At least twelve magical departments have proposed international laws regarding exclusive wands, including the inclusion of Squibs in regulation, similar in effect to the International Statute of Secrecy... I've also heard that the British delegation to the Confederation, under the guidance of your Minister Bones, has submitted a proposal that's receiving serious attention. Akinbade is even considering resigning."

Clang! Lady Rosmerta dropped the highball glass she was holding, shattering it. Everyone turned to look at her, seemingly frightened by the indifferent gazes, she seemed terrified, clumsily trying to restore the glass to its original state. Then she forced a stiff smile at everyone.

"So—" Felix began slowly, "what role do you two play, or rather, what role are you preparing to play—after showing off your excellent intelligence gathering skills to me? Goodness, I'm not sure whether to tell Mrs. Minerva. She's quite concerned about the children's future. If she finds out it was all just unnecessary worry, she'll be furious..."

"That Professor McGonagall?" the man smiled faintly. "Underneath her stern exterior, she's quite serious and responsible. Perhaps this information can reassure her. We've only sent out three teams. In theory, the requests from other families should be genuine."

"In theory?" Felix repeated.

"That's the crux of the matter. You seem to think we can represent all the Saints, but that's far from the truth," the man said. "Mr. Harp, do you know much about the Saints after 1945?"

His fingers paused on the table.

"Restless, scattered?" Felix ventured.

"Close enough, but it's more complicated than that," the man said. "My grandfather was a Saint," he began bluntly. "His position... barely involved mobilizing and disseminating information among believers within a country, gathering intelligence."

Felix smirked. "Didn't expect him to be a big shot."

"Nor can I say he was. There are dozens of people like him, just like Gringotts spread all over the world. Every country has some people like him, who are devoted to noble causes, working for the sacred cause, while the rest... can only be considered commoners who identify with our ideals."

"So the Hundred Thousand Saints claim came from this," Felix nodded.

"...Since that earth-shattering duel ended, um, I didn't witness that duel myself, but I saw it through my grandfather's diary. Just reading the words, you could feel the shock, awe... and despair he experienced." The man's face was somewhat pale, and there was a hint of unwillingness in his tone.

"Despair?"

"Two of the most powerful people in the world, at least at that time... I myself greatly admire Mr. Dumbledore. I remember a passage in the diary: above the battlefield was a canopy of invisible blades, as if separating two worlds. No one dared to approach the front lines, where even a ray of sunlight could easily snatch away the lives of those who ventured too close..."

Felix pondered for a moment, discarding the adjectives. Could Transfiguration achieve this? Of course, it could, as long as the object of transformation was replaced with ubiquitous air... Hmm, thinking about that scene was quite frightening.

"...After Mr. Grindelwald's failure, protests erupted in various parts of the world. Perhaps it was for this reason that my grandfather was not held accountable. But from the people I visited following the diary's instructions as I grew up, these former saints either went into hiding or received special attention from the local Ministry of Magic."

"Mr. Noel, I don't think your intention is to complain to me about how your family has been suppressed by the Ministry, whether overtly or covertly," Felix interrupted.

"Of course not, Mr. Harp," the man immediately replied. "To some extent, since Grindelwald, no one has had the ability to gather such a huge force. The few who were unwilling to accept defeat could only incite riots on a small scale, and their outcomes were not too favorable. It can be said that a force that could shape the history of the magical world has turned into scattered pearls across the globe, manipulated by ambitious individuals... All because there's a lack of a leader."

"I seem to understand. You want to rescue the former leader."

"No, Mr. Harp," the man said solemnly. "Even during Mr. Grindelwald's peak, he never set foot on British soil. Let alone us, a dozen or so people. What I mean is..."

"If Mr. Grindelwald had stayed in Nurmengard, the world would gradually forget about him. But from the moment he stepped out of Nurmengard Castle, whether he wanted it or not, he was back in everyone's sight, or to put it another way... he regained the ability to influence the magical world."

"Even if he does nothing, now that he has changed his name, the world will move because of him. We are just the first batch... it can be foreseen that there will be more to come."

"That sounds like an implicit threat."

"No," the man said seriously. "Just a piece of advice. The two largest wizarding organizations in the world—the Saints and the International Confederation of Wizards—are not exactly on the same page. It's almost inevitable that news will leak out. At that time, the world's attention will focus on Hogwarts, even Dumbledore..."

"Just hearing about it sounds troublesome," Felix muttered. "So, do you have any suggestions, Mr. Noel?"

"Well..." The man fell silent for a moment, his tone becoming hesitant. "It's just a suggestion, a vague idea..." Felix looked at him expectantly. "First, we need to contact Mr. Grindelwald and understand his thoughts... Of course, we need a middleman, someone who won't raise suspicion. Students won't do, nor will unaware professors..."

"I'm perfect for that," Felix eagerly interjected.

"Yes," the man said as if encouraged, his nostrils slightly flaring, his blue-green eyes becoming deeper and emitting a faint light. "It would be best to find an opportunity for us to meet, but not at the school, as it could cause misunderstandings. We don't want to bring any trouble to Mr. Grindelwald, you understand? I have a contact in the International Confederation of Wizards. He told me some confidential information, rumors..."

Felix leaned forward, getting closer.

"The current chairman, Akingbade, may break the agreement to divert attention. I absolutely don't want that to happen. I'm willing to stand by your side and contribute my strength, Mr. Harp. What about you?"

Felix hesitated. "Dumbledore—"

"Don't tell him. What I mean is, we must be cautious at the beginning, and Mr. Dumbledore has some bias against the Saints—of course, that's completely understandable, considering our past hostility. I think, at least until we resolve the trouble with Akingbade, we shouldn't complicate things unnecessarily."

Felix slowly closed his eyes, seemingly weighing the pros and cons.

"This is almost the best way. Mr. Noel, what's your idea?"

"My idea... Well, I need to confirm its authenticity first."

"That's easy. Remember the informant I mentioned before? I have a set of meeting minutes he sent me, signed personally by Akingbade. It can't be faked—"

"You're quite resourceful, Mr. DeWitt."

"Thank you for the compliment! Mr. Harp, I'm extremely certain that some of us are in danger. I'm just—what do you call me!" The expression of the man in front suddenly froze, and he could hardly believe his ears, staring blankly at Felix. How did he know his real name?

"Oh, you see, I owe you an apology." Felix spread his hands.

"I was too irrational—Dumbledore does this quite well. He rarely intrudes directly into someone's mind, even those hostile to him. But I can't. I can only control myself from using it in daily life to avoid losing too much fun. Listening to students explain why they haven't completed their homework is one of my favorite forms of entertainment.

"But if faced with blatant hostility, especially from strangers I'm meeting for the first time, curiosity makes me itch. If this person keeps chattering in my ear, especially with a look of concern, that curiosity becomes even stronger..."

"What did you do to me?" The man, whose expression was gradually darkening, finally changed his expression drastically, shouting loudly.

"Not you... although I'm most curious about you now," Felix said softly. The man took a deep breath, looking around. His companions—seemed to be trapped in some strange illusion. Two of them were even snoring, which he hadn't noticed before.

The man staggered back, accidentally knocking over a chair, and hurriedly drew his wand from his robe, pointing it at Felix, the tip trembling slightly.

He had said a lot today, most of it was true, especially about Grindelwald and Dumbledore's strength, so he could underestimate Harp's intelligence but not his combat abilities.

Felix crossed his hands on the table, watching the man with interest, showing no intention of taking action.

The sound of tables being pushed and pulled echoed around them. Both of them saw, from the corners of their eyes, more than a dozen wands being drawn from various positions on the bodies of the wizards in the room—chest, waist, side, sleeve. These people raised their wands simultaneously, ready to cast spells at any moment.

DeWitt lost his composure, his expression turning extremely ugly.

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