"So, why did you choose me?"

One of them spoke with a hint of dissatisfaction and doubt in his tone.

"He was polluted - polluted by the gods."

The other's voice was low and cold, as if every word carried some unquestionable majesty.

Hearing this, the former sneered, his mouth slightly raised, revealing a look of disdain.

"Really? Then why did you teach the boy from the Alexander family ancient magic? You chose me just because you thought I was easier to control. Moreover, you also spared Dumbledore's life, how can I feel at ease to cooperate with you? Not to mention, we also lost the golden cup."

The latter did not get angry, but responded in a calm tone that was almost indifferent.

"If you think so, I can't do anything. But the root of the problem is that Tom is no match for that kid.

In that case, I will not choose to cooperate with him again. As for Dumbledore, I have already told you that he made a deal with the god of death with the Deathly Hallows, and I can't kill him completely.

Helga...she will never stand on our side. If they get hold of her relics, it will be a big obstacle for them."

As they spoke, the two gradually walked into the dim end of the corridor.

The appearance of these two people was particularly eye-catching, and even chilling.

One of them was surprisingly tall, more than two meters tall.

The skin was as pale as plaster, with an unnatural luster, and the muscle lines were like carefully carved sculptures.

He was wearing an extremely retro long skirt and a lady's hat on his head. The overall outfit looked both retro and weird.

However, the most unignorable thing was the horrible appearance of his right arm - as if it had been burned by fire, charred and withered, covered with spider-web-like cracks, and lifeless.

The same was true for one of his eyes, which had an empty eye socket and burn marks extending outward along his cheek, adding a bit of horror.

His companion was even more mysterious. He had an ordinary figure and looked like a student. He could vaguely be identified as wearing a Hogwarts school robe.

But outside the school robe, he was wearing a huge black cloak, the shadow of which almost completely covered his face, revealing only a vague outline.

The two walked to the end of the corridor without saying a word.

And Melimpu still lowered his head, the tip of his pen rustled on the letter paper, concentrating on his letter.

The two walked to a door with the words: Permanent Curse Damage Ward.

The boy waved his wand and the door opened.

"Well, it's a good anti-unlocking spell, but it's still too simple for me."

The tall lady did not respond, but glanced at him with a slightly indifferent look, and then walked into the room.

Her movements were crisp and clear, as if she didn't take the boy's words to heart at all.

Then he closed the door.

.......

A young man seemed to be floating in an endless void, surrounded by darkness, with no concept of up, down, left, and right. Only some scattered fragments of memory appeared and disappeared in front of his eyes, like a broken mirror that could not form a complete picture.

A killed teacher fell in the green light, his eyes fixed in the final fear.

An anthropomorphic owl, with red light in its eyes.

There was also a bathroom that was blown to pieces, with broken porcelain pieces and water splashing everywhere, as if screaming silently.

These pictures kept flashing and appearing alternately, chaotic and disturbing.

He tried to grasp some of the details, but found that they slipped through his fingers like sand.

I don't remember how long I stayed here.

Suddenly, a dizzy feeling came, and all the fragments of memory were rolled up by an invisible force, spinning rapidly and gathering somewhere above my head.

Then, accompanied by a deafening explosion, everything returned to silence.

The boy suddenly opened his eyes, like a drowning man finally breaking free from the water, gasping for fresh air.

His chest rose and fell violently, and consciousness gradually returned.

He found himself lying in a ward, and the air around him was filled with the smell of disinfectant.

However, before he could fully understand the situation, a piercing fear instantly enveloped him.

He looked down at his body and was horrified to find that his arms were missing, replaced by two bare broken arms.

His mind was blank, and then he let out a heart-wrenching scream.

"Ah——!"

His voice echoed in the ward, but there was no response.

The surroundings were terribly silent, as if the whole world had abandoned him.

His eyes wandered around the room, trying to find the answer, until he saw a medical record book on the bedside table.

Trembling, he moved his body with his remaining strength and leaned closer to read the handwriting on the medical record book.

It was written in neat handwriting:

[Name: Marcus Flint]

[Symptoms: Attacked by a very strong amnesia spell, almost lost all memory]

"Marcus Flint..."

He whispered the name, feeling familiar and strange.

He closed his eyes, trying to awaken more memories, but there was nothing in his mind except that fragmented picture.

"I am... Marcus..."

He murmured to himself, with confusion and pain in his voice.

He vaguely remembered that he was a student at Hogwarts, a member of Slytherin College.

But why am I lying here?

Why are my arms cut off?

What happened?

These questions pierced his mind like countless sharp thorns, giving him a splitting headache.

He tried his best to recall, but found that his memory seemed to be emptied, leaving only a blank.

At this time, he heard a low and very magnetic voice coming from the bed, as if it came from an ancient and deep cave, with a hint of coldness.

"Long time no see, my loyal servant."

(Three more! Thank you for your rewards, I will work hard to write books and strive to be a full-time writer one day, thank you very much!!!)

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