199 years

unknown month

siberia

The Minister of Magic of the Soviet Union, Konstantin Ilyich Romanov stumbled forward on the ice sheet, clutching his lower abdomen.

He looked at his watch. On the snow-covered dial, he could vaguely see the time, twelve thirty minutes past midnight.

The extreme daylight weather made the Arctic Circle at 1 o'clock still dazzling, and there was a bright and blurry day in the sky.

The cold wind of more than 40 degrees below zero howled in the sky, and the snow and fog were so thick that people could not see anything at all.

After stepping on the ice, he fell. The Minister of Magic in a fur coat collapsed on the ice sheet, making a painful hissing sound from his mouth and spitting out thick white mist.

He suddenly looked back in horror, as if an invisible ghost was following him. However, there was nothing behind him except the wind and snow.

He looked up and looked ahead again.

On the vast icy ice field, there is only a strange building that looks like a sunken ship in the distance. It is solitary, as if it is alone in the world.

Konstantin Ilyich Romanov is a tall man nearly two meters tall. He wears a thick bearskin coat, a broad and pale face, and a pair of precious calfskin boots that he has been running for a long distance.

There's a solitary one.

The five toes on his right foot were now so cold that only two were left.

However, these were not important. What really caused him pain and fatality was the wound on his lower abdomen.

He reluctantly moved his palm away, and blood seeped out from between his fingers, which froze into blood crystals before it even hit the ground. There was a huge gap there, and the wriggling internal organs could be seen.

There isn't much time left.

Thinking of the heavy responsibility on his shoulders, Constantine climbed up from the snow with difficulty and trudged towards the sunken ship-shaped building.

Ten minutes later, he approached the building, which was entirely made of marble. It was old, dilapidated, and tilted.

But the glory of the past can be vaguely recognized.

Constantine rushed towards the door with difficulty, then waved his magic wand, and an iron door half buried in the snow burst open.

Constantine fell into a ball and rolled into the ancient building.

Then the cold iron door slammed down, and Constantine sealed the entrance to this place.

He collapsed to the ground and began panting in pain.

This is an empty building with at least a thousand years of history. It used to be a conference hall. There are many broken stone chairs scattered around. The towering stone pillars on the walls are carved with various creatures, including dragons, phoenixes, and even

There are also gods.

But these were things Constantine had no inclination to appreciate.

The cold had numbed the wound in his lower abdomen, but after entering this weird shipwreck-shaped building, his blood flow began to return to normal, and the tearing pain began again.

He removed his fingers tremblingly. This was not a skin injury, the bullet had penetrated his internal organs. Constantine knew that it was impossible for him to be rescued in this place.

Taking a deep breath, Constantine took out a small tin can from his chest with trembling hands. That was his vodka. He didn't like drinking vodka, but at this time, he needed something to stimulate his spirit, okay?

Let him finish his work.

However, just as he uncorked the bottle, a chuckle came from high up in the building.

"Do you think that if you bring me here, I will believe it?"

Constantine suddenly looked up. In the gap at the top of the building in the wind and snow, there was actually the head of a man wearing a crown staring at him.

The head was very blurry in the wind and snow, but it could be vaguely seen that he had a pair of red eyes that were like searchlights in the wind and snow.

Bang!

The tin wine bottle fell to the ground and was scratched for a long distance.

Constantine's already pale face turned even paler in an instant. He sat down on the ground and stepped back continuously. He leaned against the stone wall and looked at the heights.

He didn't expect that the person chasing him was already waiting for him at his destination.

tread.

A man with red eyes, wearing a crown, and a black suit jumped down from a height of more than ten meters. The soles of his shoes touched the frozen marble floor, making a crisp sound of metal collision.

tread.

tread.

tread.

He put his hands in his pockets and walked slowly towards Constantine. As he walked, he took off the crown on his head. It was a pale face, but its eyes were dazzlingly bright.

"You...you have already found the place, what else do you want?" Constantine said hoarsely and tremblingly, and his fingers touched his wand.

"Hehehehe, Durmstrang's abandoned school site, the last place where forbidden arts were burned more than 1,000 years ago. Who else knows the lies of history better than me?"

The man in a suit strolled closer. Just as Constantine was about to grab the wand, his wrist was stepped on by a cowhide boot.

The wand was hooked out of the palm and kicked away. It spun and slid far away on the smooth ice.

"The wand is a fool's weapon. It is too inefficient."

As he said that, the man in the suit squatted down slowly.

He smiled and said, "Tell me, where is the last key?"

"Hoo..."

"Hoo..."

"Hoo..."

Constantine took a few breaths.

Looking at the other party's red pupils, he showed a difficult smile. "Think...don't even think about it, you can't enter the library."

"Well...that's it."

The man pondered for a moment. He suddenly stood up and put away his wand. "By the way, I got a toy from Muggles. It's quite fun. Do you want to try it?"

Constantine didn't know what the other person was talking about, and then the man took out a silver pistol.

It's a revolver, a Colt search pistol, 9MM caliber.

The man in the suit seemed to be playing this thing for the first time.

He turned the gun over in his hand, pointed the muzzle at himself, and squinted one eye into the barrel. It seemed that there was something interesting in the muzzle.

"How to dismantle it..."

"How to dismantle it..."

Snap.

The cylinder ejected and the gun was disassembled

"ha!"

The man held the gun with a sense of accomplishment.

"One, two...two, two what?"

He didn't think about it for a while, and then...

boom!!

A loud noise echoed in the dilapidated building. The man overplayed his game and misfired his gun.

"Oh wow!!"

The man holding the gun seemed to be frightened by the toy in his hand, and he shook twice before catching the gun.

After patting his chest for a long time, the man said with emotion: "Bullet, I remembered it. It's such an amazing creation. If this continues, these Muggles will one day replace the wizards, are you right?"

"Shoot, you can't scare me." Konstantin Romanov closed his eyes and said, "As I said, you have given up on entering the library."

The relaxed expression of the man in the suit softened a little. He bent down, put the revolver against the man's chin, and said softly:

"Then you don't have to worry about it. Tell me, where is the key?"

Konstantin Romanov pursed his lips and said nothing.

"What a tough talk."

The man in front of him smiled slightly and said regretfully: "Goodbye."

He turned on the safety and pulled the trigger little by little.

Constantine remained motionless and gave up resistance.

Snap.

The firing pin missed.

There was no response from the revolver.

Constantine closed his eyes tightly, and the expected scene of his head exploding did not appear.
To be continued...