Chapter 427 Muggles

Seeing that the Muggle Prime Minister relented, Scrimgeour's expression became much better, and his hand slowly left the wand.

The Muggle Prime Minister opposite him also secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

At this point, he could see clearly that the man in front of him who looked like a lion was definitely not a qualified politician.

Real politicians are absolutely full of emotions. They are like the ‘rational people’ assumed in economics. They are cold-blooded, emotionless, and only have interests in their eyes!

As long as the benefits are big enough, it doesn't matter how you humiliate him.

Just like the previous Minister of Magic Fudge, although he looked down on Muggles from the bottom of his heart, he would still maintain the most basic etiquette and laugh happily when talking to the Muggle Prime Minister.

It's just that his work is obviously not done well, because anyone who has been with him can see the arrogance hidden in his bones.

On the other hand, looking at the new Minister of Magic named Scrimgeour in front of him, he does not have the hypocrisy common among politicians, but more of the iron-bloodedness and directness of a soldier.

‘This should be a high-ranking official from the military, most likely the leader who previously controlled the military power of the Ministry of Magic! ’

The Muggle Prime Minister quickly made a judgment, which on the other hand confirmed his initial suspicion.

Under the pressure of the mysterious man who cannot even be named, a civil strife should have occurred within the Ministry of Magic, which resulted in the original Minister of Magic being forced to step down, and Scrimgeour, who had taken over the military power, took over the banner. !

Thinking of this, the corners of the Muggle Prime Minister's mouth rose up, because generally leaders in the form of warlords have one characteristic, that is, they are easily deceived!

"Minister Scrimgeour, I have read a lot of information about that mysterious man who cannot even be named, so I have some understanding." The Muggle Prime Minister pretended to be sincere and said, "He seems to be an extreme person. Radicals are just like the war criminal named Grindelwald during World War II. He advocates violence and hopes to provoke a war between ordinary people, which is what you call Muggles and wizards, right?"

Scrimgeour nodded silently. Although he knew very well that the Muggle Prime Minister's metaphor was outrageous, and Voldemort was in no way comparable to Grindelwald, he did not correct the other party's mistakes, but wanted to hear them. What else does the other party want to say.

"Minister Scrimgeour, we are all people who advocate peace. Our existence is to enable our people to live and work in peace and contentment." The Muggle Prime Minister continued, "And war madmen like the mysterious man who must not even be named It is our common enemy, that is to say, we are in the same group."

After saying this, the Muggle Prime Minister looked at Scrimgeour, but this time there was no expression on Scrimgeour's face.

He smiled slightly and said tentatively:

"I have learned from our previous conversations that the current situation of your ministry is not optimistic, and can even be said to be very difficult. And since we are comrades in the same camp, I think our country may be able to provide some assistance to your ministry. Whether it's military or humanitarian..."

"That's not necessary!"

Scrimgeour rejected the other party almost without hesitation.

Let Muggles, whom almost all wizards consider inferior beings, come to help their wizards?

Are you kidding me?

Not only would this violate the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, but it would also show that the Ministry of Magic is incompetent!

Scrimgeour felt that the other party was insulting him, so he stared at the other party and said:

"This is a war between wizards and wizards, and you Muggles can't do anything! Go and see, just the aftermath of a dozen wizards' battle shattered Newcastle Bridge, a boring holiday experiment by a Hogwarts student It snowed heavily in North London in midsummer, not to mention that an alchemist's workshop was compromised and the virus leaked, causing the plague in Liverpool! These seem like trivial matters to us, but can you handle it? If nothing else happens, I’m afraid your current situation is also very difficult, right?”

The Muggle Prime Minister's face turned blue and purple at the words. Scrimgeour's words were undoubtedly a slap in his face.

However, his good political literacy still allowed him to resist the desire to fall out immediately. He leaned back on the chair and followed the other party's words with a cold face:

"Yes, the current situation in our country is indeed not optimistic. Even I am being criticized by others, but whose fault is it? The disasters caused by your wizards have taken away thousands of lives. Aren’t you ashamed?”

Scrimgeour stopped talking again. He wanted to admit that he did not care about the lives of those Muggles at all, but these words could not be said openly, so he could only remain silent.

"Since you don't need our assistance, please deal with that mysterious man who cannot even be named as soon as possible. Even if you can't deal with it, please suppress him and his henchmen as soon as possible, and don't let them continue to be in Muggle territory. What's going on in the world!" The Muggle Prime Minister lit a cigar again and puffed away smoke while saying, "If you really can't do it, then I will have to take matters into my own hands to protect my people. I believe that when it comes to lethality, bullets and magic spells should be the same."

"Are you threatening me?"

Scrimgeour's eyes narrowed slightly. Anyone who knew him well knew that this was a sign of extreme anger.

The Muggle Prime Minister opposite seemed to be scared. The cigar in his hand fell to the ground again, burning a big hole in the carpet.

"No, no, no! You misunderstood! Please don't get excited." The Muggle Prime Minister waved his hands comically and said, "What I mean is that we will use necessary force to protect our people from harm. This does not mean that we will Attack the wizards, but if necessary we will still...well...you know what I mean, right? I can't watch my people being ravaged wantonly!"

Seeing the Muggle Prime Minister's somewhat funny look, Scrimgeour's lips curved with a trace of ridicule. He stood up with a smile, looked at the other party condescendingly, and said with some mockery:

"Haha, you can give it a try and see if your junk is of any use. But what I think is that you are doing useless work."

After saying this, Scrimgeour's figure twisted and finally disappeared.

Silence returned to the office again, and the Muggle Prime Minister looked at the empty sofa chair opposite, with a smile on his face.

To this day, most wizards still think that Muggles are like ants, and they can crush them all with just a raise of their hands.

This view was true a thousand years ago, but times have changed now!

The explosive growth of science and technology in the past thousand years has not only made their quality of life better and better, but also given them enough strategic power to compete with the wizards!

The wizards are standing still, their magical power is developing too slowly!

It can be said that Muggles today have far surpassed wizards in some aspects!

But these so-called wizards still maintain the pride of the old times.

Just like the previous Minister of Magic named Scrimgeour, in the previous conversation with the other party, the Muggle Prime Minister only read one word on the other party's face, and that was arrogance!

However, arrogance is good!

Nowadays, the power of the Muggles is still too weak. If a war breaks out directly with the wizards, the final result will only be losses for both sides.

But the prime ministers of various countries believe that as long as they are given enough time, it will be extremely easy to defeat the wizard.

Because compared to magic, technology is developing so fast!

Only the other party is arrogant enough to look down on Muggles.

Only in this way can Muggles have a longer time to continue to develop!

And when the Muggles develop more terrifying weapons, the wizards will no longer be noble!

They will be forced to open the country under the bombardment of cannons and carry out exchanges and free trade with other countries. By that time, the power of wizards will be completely integrated into the Muggle world.

Thinking this, the smile on the Muggle Prime Minister's face became even brighter.

He has already begun to imagine what it would be like to be able to release magic one day!

Who doesn’t like strong personal power?

But suddenly, as if he remembered something, he jumped up from his chair and screamed:

"Damn it! I forgot to tell them to deal with the plague in Liverpool!"

As he spoke, the Muggle Prime Minister wanted to run to the portrait and call him again, but to his disappointment this time, the little man in the portrait disappeared.

"Tsk, you are so petty." The Muggle Prime Minister cursed, "Forget it, let's talk about it in a few days. Anyway, not all people in Liverpool will die for the time being."

With that said, the Muggle Prime Minister sat back on the office chair, looked up at the ceiling, and fell into fantasy again.

"Resurrection from the dead? That's great!"

…

In the early morning, in a cafe on the streets of London, listening to the soothing music playing in the store, Mike, wearing casual sportswear, sat in a spacious booth like an ordinary person who had just finished a morning run and was getting ready to rest, staring at Watching the flow of people coming and going outside the window.

He is waiting for someone.

Kingsley, a pure-blood black wizard with a background in voodoo, insisted on setting the meeting place for the two of them here.

Although Mike felt strange about this, he did not refuse.

After all, for an intimate gathering like this, a Muggle cafe is indeed a better choice than the Leaky Cauldron or the Pig's Head Bar. At the very least, there will be fewer wizards here.

"Your coffee, sir!"

A beautiful voice brought Mike back from his thoughts. He turned around and saw a young waitress with a youthful appearance looking attentively. In her hand, she was holding a A coffee set.

"Thanks."

Taking the plate, Mike gave her a bright smile, and the latter gently scratched the palm of Mike's hand when Mike reached for the plate.

Then she licked her lips at Mike again, and then twisted back to the bar.

The implication of the other party's suggestion was obvious. If Mike was willing, he believed that a romantic marriage would be inevitable.

However, Mike didn't have much interest in this kind of thing.

He is not an innocent young man who knows nothing, so he knows very well that he should not touch a woman who takes the initiative to embrace her.

Because you don't know whether the other party can do it cleanly or not.

Perhaps in normal people's perception, those women who specialize in these services are the dirtiest. When they think of it, the first thing that comes to many of their minds is X disease.

But in fact, compared to many women who are playful in society, those professional women are much cleaner.

At the very least, most workplaces have regular physical examinations, and for those social girls, Mike doesn't think they have that awareness. What they pursue is just pure hedonism.

So compared to this kind of casual marriage, Mike would rather go to professional places if he has needs.

Looking at the twisting back of the waitress, Mike raised the corners of his mouth slightly, rubbed his hands and prepared to enjoy his coffee.

But at this moment, a deep voice came from behind him.

"It seems like you are quite lucky."

Mike's hand holding the coffee cup froze slightly, but he did not look back. Instead, he whispered as if nothing had happened:

"How long have you been here?"

"Longer than you."

"Oh, really?" Mike took a sip of coffee and felt it was a little bitter, so he tore open the sugar packet and added it in. "Dumbledore must have told you everything, right?"

"Yes, he asked me to cooperate with you." Kingsley held up a cup of coffee and sat across from Mike. "To be honest, I don't really understand why he would believe you, a student who has not yet graduated. But now that he has spoken, Then I have no choice but to cooperate. So, what do you want me to do?"

"I just want to know where Chris Flint and the Flint family are now."

"You only want to know this? Oh, okay, they are..." Kingsley glanced at Mike in surprise and was about to tell everything, but in the middle of the sentence, he stared as if he had thought of something. His eyes widened and he looked at Mike in disbelief, "Are you planning to knock on the door directly?"

Mike didn't speak, just stirred the coffee in his hand.

But his meaning is already obvious. If he doesn't deny it, he will acquiesce.

"You're crazy!" Kingsley stood up suddenly, put his hands on the table and roared at Mike, "Do you know how many people will die if you do this?"

Kingsley's loud voice startled the waitress who had been paying attention to Mike's movements. Due to the curse, she did not hear the conversation between the two clearly, but she looked at the man who was roaring at the handsome golden boy. The waitress was still panicked by the black man.

"How about I call the police?"

The waitress murmured to herself and took out a flip phone from her arms.

On the other side, looking at the angry Kingsley across from him, Mike also stopped stirring the coffee.

"Of course I know, but what does it matter?" ""