The young Scourers asked around, only to find that no one could clearly state the source of the news.
But the crowd didn't think too much and began pleading with Cassius Thorne and others:
"Let us do it! Magic is real, why hide it for those evil wizards?"
"The world needs another purge! This time a complete cleansing!"
Just as the crowd was making a ruckus, an icy voice shouted out:
"Enough!"
In an instant, all the noise was suppressed.
The crowd followed the voice and saw a smart, beautiful woman approaching. Her body was agile like a cheetah, her gaze sharp, and her long stride could cover the length of two steps for others.
The excited young boys and girls quickly bowed their heads and obediently called out:
"Teacher Abigail!"
Serra Abigail scanned the crowd, her gaze carrying a hint of disappointment:
"True action relies not on loud voices, but on discipline and brains! Knowing full well this is someone else's scheme, yet foolishly blaming it on the organization, stepping right into the pit, do you think this is a good thing?"
... Is... is it a bad thing?
The young people, whose blood was boiling moments ago, looked at each other, afraid to look up, even more afraid to speak.
"What are you still standing around for?" Abigail said sternly, "Shouting, trying to force the leader to make a decision? I think you are afraid the Aurors won't find our base, get back to your posts!"
Under Abigail's stern gaze, the crowd dispersed like mice being watched by a cat once given leave.
Cassius Thorne had a few traces of embarrassment on his face, nodded, and said, "Serra, you're back."
"I'm not the only one back," Abigail said looking at him.
"And... who else?"
Before Thorne could finish, his gaze was fixed.
At the end of the corridor, a group of people had just arrived.
The leader was a handsome man in his forties or fifties, with a barely-there smile on his lips. The weight of years on him was as rich as aged wine, occasionally revealing a butterfly tattoo on his arm as he walked.
Cassius Thorne's voice was dry as he said, "Yodel... Bronlin... When did you..."
Stern and the man wearing a raven mask both turned their heads to look over, but neither made a sound.
"It's been three years, hasn't it, Leader?" Bronlin said with a friendly smile, "So reassuring... you're still as useless as ever."
A flash of anger crossed Cassius Thorne's face, he wanted to say something, but seeing the black-clad crowd appearing from the corridor, all words stuck in his throat.
Beside Yodel Bronlin was a man with greasy, tangled hair, wearing a lab coat covered in unknown stains, his gaze focused yet absent, muttering to himself as if living in his own world.
Following behind them were eight masked warriors, each with a towering physique, their dark combat suits outlining powerfully explosive muscles.
And further back were soldiers in lighter-colored uniforms, their bodies even more robust than those in front, so much so that their movements appeared somewhat clumsy as they walked.
These silent soldiers quickly controlled all the entrances and exits of the base, even guarding Cassius Thorne's bedroom.
Thorne's face changed dramatically: "Bronlin, what do you want to do?"
"I heard about those foolish things you've been doing recently," Yodel Bronlin said slowly.
He entered the room, Rolando Stern promptly stood up, and the man with the raven mask also quietly rose and lowered his head.
Bronlin bypassed Thorne, sat down on the central chair, and looked at the trembling man, gently saying:
"Twice you arranged for Vid Gray to be assassinated, and both attempts failed?"
Thorne replied with a tough tone, "You can see for yourself how his poppets pose a threat to us! The sooner we kill him, the better it is for us!"
Serra Abigail silently gave him a glance.
"Makes sense," Bronlin nodded and asked warmly, "Was he killed?"
Thorne's expression stiffened.
Rolando Stern whispered, "The protective forces around Vid Gray are not weak... but considering he came to the United States without his poppets before, it was indeed a rare assassination opportunity..."
Before he could finish, Bronlin raised a palm and Stern fell silent appropriately.
Bronlin smiled at him, saying: "No need to make excuses for this waste, Stern. I know if you were in charge, you would never agree to his crude assassination plan!"
Thorne laughed angrily: "Ha, you can sit here smugly and accuse me because I am trying to eliminate threats to the Scourers, while you've done nothing! I may have failed, but at least I tried! What about you?"
But Bronlin had no intention of arguing, sighed, and said:
"You even used Modis like a single-use bullet! He's a technician! A technician!"
"Even if you don't understand what a technician is, surely you know how difficult it is to train a qualified Alchemist?"
"Was it my wish to sacrifice him?" Thorne angrily retorted, "Do you think anyone can get close to that Vid Gray? Only Modis had the opportunity! Besides, I had a comprehensive retreat plan for him! After he acted, he just needed to meet with Adebayor..."
Bronlin rubbed his forehead and asked helplessly, "Then where is Adebayor... now?"
Thorne was again rendered speechless.
"Two leaders, Thorne! Two remarkably capable leaders exhausted by you as if they were cannon fodder."
Bronlin lamented painfully: "It would have been worthwhile if you had really managed to kill Vid Gray, but besides causing the Muggles to lose an airplane, what other remarkable results did you achieve? None!"
"To avoid leaks, I had to pay a huge price to have Adebayor and Modis silenced! Do you know how much it pained me to do that?"
The raven mask trembled: "Modis... is dead?"
"Yes! We had no choice. Used two basins of Devil's Snares... Fortunately, it didn't cause greater harm."
Bronlin sighed heavily and said, "But I didn't expect that before we even cleaned up that mess on the other side, you would create a big scoop on this side!"
"Wait!" Thorne was startled and hurriedly defended: "The video thing wasn't us! It's someone framing us!"
Bronlin gave him a pitying look and said: "Does it matter? The elites of the Magic Congress will direct their fury at whom? You sit headquartered in New York, letting this situation occur, and you think you bear no responsibility?"
"How could I stop it?" Thorne angrily replied: "I only learned about it half an hour ago!"
Bronlin replied, "Incompetence... isn't that a crime?"
Before Thorne could say more, he saw Bronlin lightly wave his hand, and two warriors behind him leaped forward like hounds towards Thorne!
Thorne was not slow in reaction, quickly drawing his gun, firing!
"Bang!"
A bullet was blocked by a masked warrior, smoke rising from where it hit his chest, leaving Bronlin unharmed behind him.
"Splat!"
Thorne slowly lowered his head to look at the gaping hole in his chest and then at the warrior who had pierced the body with bare hands, his mouth twitching, blood gushing like a flood.
He rolled his eyes, seeing Abigail turn her head as if unable to bear the sight, Rolando Stern looking down at his toes, the man in the raven mask coldly witnessing his death, only Bronlin slightly bowing his head in a salute:
"Have a safe journey, Leader."
[What kind of... leader... am I...]
The last words couldn't leave his mouth, only emerging as a gurgled sound in his throat, and then Thorne's body softened and collapsed, eyes still staring at the dim ceiling.
Bronlin raised his head, sympathized with a sigh, and said: "Poor Thorne... but the leader of us Scourers has always been someone who fought their way to the top, not relying on that laughable Muggle father-son succession."
"When you reach the other world, I hope you can understand this simple truth."
He kicked aside the arm of the corpse at his feet, then looked at the others and said: "Now, let's discuss how to resolve this situation."
"But first... Serra!"
Abigail stepped forward, bowed, and said: "Mr. Bronlin."
"If I'm not mistaken, Serra," Bronlin said gently: "Vid Gray... your student... should be in New York now."