Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

,!

Helheim, the kingdom of the dead. A round of black stars flickered, covering the white stars on the other side like a black hole.

After Hoffa looked at the top exit, the man who kept leaping, but couldn't jump out, felt worried. If even the developer of the resurrection technique, Cadmus Peverier, was hung in the thorns. On the Dao, then, who also has similar ideas, can he escape the eyes of death?

He didn't come back to his senses until Barty Jr. gave him a push.

Little Batty: "She's gone."

It turned out that when he watched the leapfrog man, the silver-haired ghost had silently drifted down the road of thorns, and now he was almost out of sight.

"Hey, Aglaia, wait for me."

Hoffa quickly waved his hand and chased it back, but when he got back to the bottom of the road of thorns, the silver-haired ghost climbed up the long-eared rabbit floating in the sky and flew straight down, regardless of Hoffa and Little Batty means.

"How to do?"

A cold wind blew by, and the two abandoned people looked at the abyss at their feet, staring at each other, not knowing what to say for a while.

Hoffa didn't expect that Aglaia would just leave them just like that, and left without taking his head back. Ruthlessly, he couldn't guess what she was thinking.

Just when they didn’t know what to do, there was another grunting sound from the heights, and a huge boulder fell grunting from the heights of the Way of Thorns, and banged against the stone pillars on the bottom platform with a bang. .

Not long after, a man with bronzed muscles walked down from the heights and came to the side of the huge rock. He pressed the rock with his hands and lifted it up with great effort, then rolled the huge rock and pushed it up a slope; Hoffa saw What I got was a tight face, his cheeks pressed against the stone, his shoulders propped up with mud-stained boulders, and his feet were all scarred. It was Sisyphus, the never-ending stone-pushing man.

"Huh, uncle?"

Seeing hope, Hoffa quickly ran to Sisyphus, bent over and asked the sweaty man under the huge rock: "Excuse me, how should I go down here?"

Sisyphus, who pushed the stone, glanced at him, "Jump down."

"So high, you will definitely die if you jump down."

Little Batty said immediately.

"But you are dead," Sisyphus said, and continued to push the stone hard like a shit-shell.

"This..." Little Batty still wants to ask, but there seems to be no way to refute it.

Hoffa nodded quickly, "I understand, thank you uncle."

Sisyphus ignored him and continued to push the stone upwards, only the stone in his eyes.

The two walked to the bottom of the road of thorns, turning their heads one step at a time, and walking, Hoffa couldn't stop the doubt in his heart, and went back to catch up with Sisyphus who was pushing the stone. "Wait a minute, uncle."

"Ok?"

"Why don't you jump down?"

The man pushing the stone smiled and asked, "Why should I jump down."

"Your feet are broken like this," Hoffa pointed to his **** feet. "And this stone... how many years have you pushed."

When he asked, Sisyphus smiled more happily. He carried the boulder on his shoulders, stopped on the Path of Thorns, smiled and asked Hoffa: "Do you think the people on this road are all miserable?"

Hoffa listened to the screams of Prometheus in the distance, and couldn't help nodding, and said with affection, "It's too miserable."

"No," Sisyphus shook his head: "The people who are really miserable are those below. Pain and exhaustion are better than insensitive. Look, this is the job at hand. Although I have been failing, it is also a goal anyway."

After speaking, he smiled and pushed the stone slowly, walking slowly up the mountain, taking a heavy and steady step towards a torture that he would never know the end of.

Hoffa thoughtfully returned to Batty's side.

Little Batty asked him nervously: "Is that what the guy said is true? Can this place really jump down? I'm afraid it's not bluffing us."

Hoffa kicked Batty's **** without saying a word, and with the sound of howling and howling when Batty fell into the abyss, Hoffa also jumped off the Way of Thorns.

They fell to the ground like meteors, passed through a height of thousands of meters in the blink of an eye, and fell on the ground as light as leaves. It felt like jumping down a centimeter step, without any waves, Sisyphus did not lie to him, and the Kingdom of the Dead did not die twice.

But where they landed is not the gloomy pancreatic island of Aglaia, but an isolated heart-shaped island the size of a football field. The sun and moon twin stars are shining in the sky at the same time, and there is no bug on the ground.

"Hey, it's really okay."

Little Batty stood up, touched him twice, then pulled Hoffa up and asked, "Mr. Bach, are you going to leave here?"

"Don't always ask me when I can go?"

Hoffa thought of Aglaia, who had abandoned him, heartbroken: "It's so good here, there are no troubles, no opponents."

"No, there is nothing to do here, I'm uncomfortable." Little Batty said.

"Cheese bones."

Hoffa took a sip.

"Don't you feel that way, once you have nothing to do. You will panic?"

"No,"

Hoffa refused, but he couldn't help but agree with it in his heart. He doesn't know how long he will stay in this void, but it must not be his style to do nothing.

Bang bang bang!

There was a sudden burst of applause from the ears, which shocked Hoffa.

Turning his head, he found a towering arc arena in the distance, and the applause and cheers came from that building.

The environment here is far from the shadowy pancreas island of Aglaia. The buildings are solemn and the ground is solid. Countless ghosts are pouring from all directions, and they enter the giant arena with excitement on their faces.

Hoffa remembered that this was exactly what Arvada was talking about at the beginning of the "entertainment place". He was curious about what place it was at the time, but then he met Little Batty and was taken to Agle. Ya, this curiosity will not stop.

He didn't expect that after jumping off the Way of Thorns, he would actually fall here.

......

......

Hogwarts, Office of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

At this moment, time is already cold winter, and snowflakes are falling from the sky one by one, piled up on the edge of the window.

The flames in the fireplace crackled and burned, but Miller Gorschak, who was sitting in front of the fire, did not feel any warmth at all. He wasn't sure if this was his body too old, or that the **** guy had disappeared a whole lot. The reason for the month.

He controlled Aristo Moody’s body and sat behind the desk. He looked at a letter in front of him with a gloomy face. He was playing with a sharp dagger in his hand. He put his finger on the sharp edge of the dagger and touched it. Touched but took it back. The expression looked very hesitant.

Mixed with the crackling sound of the pine wood in the fireplace, there was some kind of faint cry in the room, and the cry continued, changing the tone from time to time. At first, Miller was able to remain reluctantly calm, but gradually, he became impatient.

"Don't yell, yell me upset."

Finally, he couldn't help standing up, strode to the box in the room, and pulled the box open.

In the box, the two men were lying flat on two beds respectively, silently, and the cry was from a vague figure kneeling on the side of a bed: she cried and shouted: "Little master, little Master...you wake up, you wake up."

"I told you not to yell, can't you hear me?"

Miller yelled.

"Uuuuu..... I can't help it..."

The elf looked back at him, crying tears and nose flowing down, she choked and couldn't stop crying.

"Don't yell, tell me how is his situation?"

Miller asked impatiently.

"The vital signs are getting weaker and weaker."

The house elf cried and sobbed, "Breathing was really normal half a month ago, but now, they breathe a few times a day, I... I really don't know what to do... Oooh!"

The cry was getting louder and louder, and a trace of hostility flashed in Miller's eyebrows. He stretched out a palm, grabbed it and threw it in the air. The crying house elf was thrown into the corner, wailed, and passed out immediately.

The cry finally disappeared.

The box became quiet.

Miller controlled Aristo Moody's body and slowly came to the two men in the box. One of the two men had **** hair, and the other was a middle-aged bald head.

Miller came to the middle-aged bald man and took his hand. His hand was densely covered with old markings and meridians. It looked like the hand of a fifty-year-old man. He lay in just a few months. The young man on the hospital bed was well over twenty years old, aging almost at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Next to the unconscious middle-aged bald-headed man, there is a piece of parchment with blood, which is the sacrificial circle to Helheim.

Miller picked up the parchment and looked undecided.

The guy Hoffa lost contact with him less than a day after entering Helheim. He didn’t come back at the appointed time. He didn’t know what happened in the underworld, and he didn’t know how long it would take the body in front of him. Completely decayed and collapsed because of the loss of life.

Do you need to do something?

Are you going to the underworld to get him back?

He fell into hesitation.

咚咚咚...!

A quick knock on the door awakened him from his contemplation. He looked at the sky outside the house, and it was close to dusk.

Boom boom boom!

The knock on the door became more urgent.

He put away the parchment impatiently, closed the box, opened the office, and went out.

As soon as the door opened, Miller saw black greasy hair that resembled a kitchen curtain that hadn't been washed in ten years. Under the hair, there were a pair of deep eyes and a daunting hooked nose.

After coming to Hogwarts for so long, Miller has recognized all the professors, including the cold and greasy potions professor, Dean Slytherin. But Miller responded with contempt to most professors at Hogwarts, except for Dumbledore.

"Severus?" Miller said in an elder's tone, "What are you doing?"

Severus Snape frowned unpleasantly: "Dumbledore asked me to inform you that you must come to the Christmas Eve Dance tonight, and professors from other schools will come."

"Prom?" Miller raised his brows. "That's not everyone knows, so why not come over and talk to me?"

"Maybe you're afraid you can't find a partner?"

Severus Snape's tone was mixed with a touch of sarcasm, "If you can find it."

"Humph."

Miller sniffed, noncommittal.

"At night, you might have to clean up this Auror outfit." After pointing to Moody's (Miller) clothes, he handed what looked like an invitation to Miller's hand, and then He turned around and left without any muddle, and it seemed that he didn't want to have anything to do with him.

"small thing......"

Miller closed the door, glanced at the light blue envelope in his hand, threw it on the desk with no interest, and sat in the chair with a long sigh.

It's Christmas Eve, and it stands to reason that he should have completed the task long ago, where he went back and forth, but Hoffa's disappearance had to make him tied to this post and unable to move.

Boom boom boom!

Before his **** sat hot, the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office rang again. Miller became more and more impatient, and he felt that it was a major mistake in his life to come and find Hoffa.

Snapped! !

Miller opened the door.

This time, standing outside the door was a Gryffindor student who was only in the third grade, and a meticulous middle-aged man with his hair combed.

"This is Professor Moody's office." The Gryffindor student said, "Professor, this Mr. Crouch has something to do with you."

"Director of the Department of International Affairs, Barty Crouch?"

Miller looked at the middle-aged man with meticulous hair and a decent smile in front of him, and asked in amazement, "What can you do for me?"

"I'm here to find someone."

Said the meticulous man combing his hair.

"Who are you looking for?" Miller asked with an unkind look.

Barty Crouch did not answer his question, but first gently said to the students leading the way: "Thank you for leading the way, Daniel, I have a few words with your defense professor."

"Okay, talk slowly with Professor Moody. I'm going to the prom." The Gryffindor student simply waved his arm and left the office.

After the students left, the smile on the middle-aged man's face suddenly disappeared. He involuntarily pushed Miller into the office, kicked the door closed, and then slapped Miller on the face.

Snapped! !

"Asshole, what are you doing here?"

Old Barty Crouch, who had just smiled very decently, looked like a different person at this moment, looking at Miller very brutally.

Miller was dumbfounded by the slap, he covered his face and looked at this guy who suddenly slapped himself in disbelief.

After a slap, Barty Crouch drew out his wand and stared at Miller with a cold face: "How many people know about you? What about Aristo Moody, where is his deity now? ?"

Miller hadn't reacted yet, the old Batty Crouch had already turned over in the office, bent over to look under the desk, opened the cabinet for storing clothes, and did not consider himself as an outsider.

Miller rubbed his face and gradually recalled. He glanced at the box in the office and knew in his heart that this guy definitely regarded himself as his son, Barty Crouch Jr..

After rummaging through the cabinet and not finding it, Old Barty threw the sheets in his hand and pointed his wand straight at Miller: "Hand over Mad-Eye Moody, and then go home with me right away."

"Who told you that?"

Miller asked with a nasty look.

"Who told me? Stupid, do you think I know nothing about your tricks, and say, did you go back to find your dying master?"

Old Batty Crouch said, reaching out to beat Miller. But Miller easily dodged a blow by raising his hand.

"You dare to hide, you are really capable!"

Old Batty hated iron and steel and screamed: "Do you know how much I took to dry your butt? If it weren't for me to get involved, the Quidditch World Cup alone would be enough for you to be stunned. Strange kiss a hundred times!"

"I am not your son."

Miller said straightforwardly.

"Also say you are not!? All petrochemicals!"

Old Barty waved his wand furiously, and a gray spell ray gushed out from the wand and took the door of Miller's face.

A trace of murder flashed in Miller's eyes, he rubbed his hands, and when he raised his hand, he interrupted Old Barty's casting. Smash the grey petrified curse to pieces.

"What's the look in your eyes? Stinky boy, don't think you dare to do anything with me if you know some magic, I am your father..."

Before the word father was finished, the whole body of the old Barty Crouch suddenly floated. The wand held in his hand also flew out and fell into Miller's hand. He held the wand in his backhand and waved it, and Old Barty's limbs twisted into a strange arc in the air.

"You...you...you are an insult!"

Old Batty bit his teeth out of blood and roared angrily: "You dare to do it to me!?"

"Who told you!?"

Miller's face was as cold as iron, "If it weren't for someone to whisper, you wouldn't know that someone was pretending to be Moody, and said!"

"you!?"

Old Batty Crouch stared wide-eyed, looked carefully at the cold face in front of him, and became horrified, "You...you are not my son...you are not crazy-eyed, who are you? ?"

"It's too late to react now."

Miller tightened his palms, and the floating old Batty Crouch's neck tightened, his eyes bulging, and he couldn't breathe gradually.

At this moment, the box in the room snapped open, and the house-elf with a bruised forehead shinlessly clutched his head and got out of the box.

As soon as she got out, she saw the middle-aged man floating in the air. After a second, she let out a piercing and high-pitched scream, like seeing a ghost, and rushed to the murderous Miller. In front of him, he knelt down and hugged Miller's thigh and cried out: "Please, please, don't kill my master, don't kill my master!"

"Go away, Shining."

Miller lifted his foot and kicked Shining into the air. He continued to hold old Barty and asked, "Don't tell me who lied to you. Believe it or not, I just killed you?"

"Uh....."

Old Barty's face was blue, floating in the air, already speechless. He clutched his neck, pushing his legs desperately.

The kicked Shining rushed back without hesitation, hugged Miller's thigh again, and whispered quickly, "The little lord's life is unknown, and your friends are about to die. At this time, why do you still have You care about other things, but you are going to find a way to save your friends!!"

"pardon!!?"

Miller lowered his head abruptly and stared fiercely at the house elf holding his thigh.

But the house elf did not give in at all. She grabbed Miller's wooden legs tightly, like a drowning man clutching the last life-saving straw: "I said, you have the time to find a way to save your friends, can't you? Why should you embarrass others about other things..."

One man and one elf looked at each other for a while.

"Ha...Haha..."

Miller laughed mockingly, but was the first to lose.

Thinking of Hoffa waiting to die in the box, he casually waved his hand and threw the old Barty Crouch aside like trash, as if he had exhausted all his strength.

Shining scrambled and threw herself down beside Old Batty, and pressed hard against his chest.

Miller Gorschak stood there and said to himself: "Yeah, whoever I care to tell you about it, anyway, it's all going to die...it's going to die..."

After talking to himself, he told Shining: "Give me the evening dress, I need a carnival."