Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

Hoffa felt that he was going to die.

Not only the scorching sun that brought him during the day, but also some subtle, irreversible changes in his body.

Under the sun in London in 1994, he could see the surface of his skin, and some tiny lenses were being produced. Those lenses were growing and spreading little by little, and it didn't take long for his right knuckles to become transparent.

Sister Chloe once told him, except for her. From the beginning of birth, everyone's position in time and space is determined. If they move without authorization, time flare will occur. The longer they exist in the alien space, the more fragile the logical chain that maintains his existence.

Last time, just two or three days ago, he almost died under the flares of time. The powerlessness to face the law of time is still fresh today.

And this time, fifty years later.

When Time Flare once again sounded the urging horn, Chloe was no longer there. He stepped on a completely unfamiliar land alone. He couldn't think of any way to keep himself alive.

Back fifty years ago? Go to Dumbledore? I thought that even Dumbledore would not be able to bring him back fifty years ago, and even if he wanted to, it would be impossible to build another Arrow of Time in just two days.

What can I do? If there are only two days of life left.

If you asked him what he would do when he came to Harry Potter's world five years ago, he would probably say with a high degree of confidence, such as picking up Hermione and defeating Voldemort.

But now, looking at the poster of "This Killer Is Not So Cold" in front of him, he just wants to order a cup of popcorn, a glass of ice cola, and another hamburger, sitting in the cinema in the most comfortable position, waiting for death quietly. 's arrival

There is not one of the most negative traversers in history.

Thinking about this, Hoffa laughed at himself. This is probably a mechanism of emotional compensation. The brain subconsciously prevents people from collapsing because of despair.

Then do it.

He stood up in a daze, ignoring the strange eyes of others, and walked towards the cinema in the distance.

But when he walked slowly to the entrance of the cinema, he found another problem that was not a problem.

He has no money.

His clothes were changed at Miranda's house fifty years ago, and later became tattered because of the battle. Even if a few money were put in his pocket, it would have long been burned out.

Of course, he can use magic to cheat some money or conjure some counterfeit money and so on.

But that makes no sense.

You still have to harm people before you die. It's so boring to do that.

He saw the exquisite antique necklace in his hand, which was the only thing he had, and then looked at a McDonald's store next to him, thinking that he might be able to exchange it for a glass of ice-cola.

So he walked into the store, but as soon as he entered, he was pushed out by a fat female clerk with a pocky face with upturned nostrils. She pointed to the long line at the counter: "I didn't see that he was busy. Well, go and go, there is no time to entertain the homeless."

Hoffa, who was pushed out of the glass door, was not angry at all. He turned around and asked, "Did you... have won the Second World War?"

Stunned for a second.

"are you crazy."

The fat woman waved the rag for wiping the table, and lettuce leaves splashed on Hoffa's face. She said in a bitter and hostile manner: "If you have any questions, ask your teacher. See you like this is a high school dropout and doing nothing."

.....

Outside the McDonald’s restaurant, Hoffa held the necklace and sat on the red fire hydrant on the street in the afternoon, looking aimlessly at the passing vehicles. At this moment, the time flare on the back of his hand has expanded to his forearm, and most of his thumb to elbow is transparent.

He was accustomed to the devastation of World War II, but he was very strange to this living world that should have been familiar.

Britain is still Britain, the movies that should be made are no less, the electrical appliances that should be invented are the same, and the things that should happen still happen.

Germany did not win, and even if he died in two days, Germany still did not win. Grindelwald has not achieved the goal of making the world feel painful, which shows that his own existence is actually insignificant. It is the same with him or without him.

"It's ironic."

He said lightly, "So I am nothing."

Huh! !

The voice just fell, accompanied by a rush of tires rubbing the ground. A sulky yellow Lamborghini Diabolo parked in front of the McDonald's store.

It has square eyes, a huge air intake grille and a long tail wing, and it makes a puff of exhaust sound from its bottom, dripping water outwards.

The pedestrians on the side turned their heads in the direction where the sound came from. The drivers who drove opened their eyes to stare at the wide monster with an enviable expression. The children jumped up and down, whispering excitedly, and the sound from under the hood. Interrupted the voices of other people on the street.

Although he is on the verge of death at this moment, even though Hoffa has just come to this era from fifty years ago, he still digs out some information about this car from the dusty memory. Diablo, produced in 1991...one of the top luxury cars of the 90s.

boom.

The car door opened upwards, and a hoarse and cheerful man's voice came from the car: "Honey, you can come down here."

"Huh, what about you going shopping on Oxford Street?"

The woman said dissatisfied.

"Oh, today is just a coincidence, I have to pick up a friend."

"You can't tell me in advance, where am I going now?"

"Go shopping, go shopping, drink coffee, whatever you want."

The husky man's voice became a little perfunctory.

"I do not."

The woman said forcefully.

"Hold it, the password is your birthday."

The man said casually, and stuffed something into her hand.

"You remember my birthday!?"

The woman said in surprise.

"Uh...maybe..."

"Huh, I hate it, I just like your indifferent attitude to me, Trojan horse!"

Accompanied by a kiss that made passers-by envy, there was a burst of hot fragrance. A pair of big long legs stepped down from the luxury car and drew past Hoffa.

It was a strange woman wearing sunglasses and a brand-name bag, looking arrogantly at her surroundings. Her jeweled face was barely written with four characters, I am a supermodel.

This kind of picture is not surprising in later generations of London. The war is over, the economy is developing rapidly, and there are rich people everywhere, just like in Shanghai or Beijing in the 21st century. When you see this kind of picture, you probably curse in your heart, **** guy, or rich. After he could do whatever he wanted, he turned around and left unwillingly, blaming God for not giving himself a good baby.

Hoffa drooped his head and didn't care about a sports car or a model. He didn't care about anything, because he was going to die.

But the sports car did not leave, but stopped in front of him and fart.

The owner of the sports car leaned over and shouted to the gray-haired boy sitting on the fire hydrant outside the car door: "Hey, can't you come in?"

Hoffa's brow furrowed because of a sudden tingling in his arm.

The guy driving the sports car saw that he didn't respond, so he honked his horn, and the yellow Lamborghini Diablo made a loud cry.

Hoffa slowly raised his head and saw in the open gull-wing door, an old man wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap was staring at him. He was wearing a simple white T and blue cowboy, happily honking his horn: "Young man, don't be so negative, come in and sit down."

Hoffa glanced at his side, and the Lamborghini made an unpleasant fart noise again, puff.

The old man was helpless: "Look at who, I'm talking to you."

Passers-by stopped, showing surprised expressions.

They couldn't connect this guy who was just sitting on the manhole cover and begging, with a tattered body, a gray chicken coop and a mess of dust on his face, and the shining luxury car in front of him.

The female employee cleaning the table in the hamburger restaurant saw the scene outside the glass, and her chin did not fall to the floor. I don't understand why the owner of that rare luxury car wants a homeless man to sit in.

Even the tall model, who had walked away for a few steps, pulled down his glasses in surprise, and his mouth with expensive lipstick turned into an O shape.

Hoffa still didn't respond.

The old man in the car was a little helpless. He got out from the other side and saw that under his waistcoat was a healthy, bronzed complexion. He was tall and looked powerful.

Afterwards, he came forward in three steps, grabbed Hoffa's arm, and dragged him into the car without any explanation.

Lamborghini and Hoffa with its humble interior, which did not match its appearance, let out a muffled snort. There was a strong perfume smell in the car, which made the chest tight. He hadn't realized what was going on yet, and the severe pain rushed to his body again. .

There was a faint click, and he could feel the rapid crystallization in his chest. His existence is becoming more and more illogical, and his body is rapidly disintegrating under the power of the arrow of time.

boom!

The Lamborghini's door closed.

The vehicle made a roar in the streets of London and sprang out.

Acceleration pressed Hoffa on the back of the chair. He turned his head and looked at the driver's seat beside him. The old man wearing a baseball cap and a white T said in a dark voice: "What are you doing?"

"Don't you ask who I am?"

The old man held the steering wheel and asked with a smile.

"Whoever you are has nothing to do with me."

Hoffa said slowly, and he looked at his arm.

Through the glass through the car window, his right has almost disappeared in the sun, as if it were made of glass, only some faint blood vessels and bone veins can be seen inside.

"Yes, it's a bit proud of me when I was young."

The old man smiled and nodded, very happy.

"Speak up without shame."

Hoffa sneered weakly. He didn't think that an old man driving a sports car and a young model could be compared to himself.

His pride and experience do not allow anyone to feel like himself, but he is now unable to resist. I don't want to refute. The appearance of duckweed drifting with the flow.

Time flares are eroding his body, and he has entered the countdown phase of his life.

Creak.

When passing by the traffic lights, Lamborghini stopped, and the old man smiled and pulled down his baseball cap and sunglasses, revealing a pair of gray short hair and a pair of faint golden eyes.

He looked at Hoffa on the steering wheel, and said in Chinese, "Am I really boastful?"