Capítulo 73: Chapter 73: Six, Halal
Hoffa stood in the pouring rain, his mouth agape.
But before he could sense more about the mysterious creature, the green serpent vanished from the deck in an instant.
No matter how much he tried, he couldn't detect a trace of it.
This time, his mental energy field was of no use.
Slowly, Hoffa moved his body to a corner of the cabin. A cruise ship in a storm... and a giant snake onboard.
He could only hope there wouldn't be any murders the next day.
As it turned out, Hoffa had overthought it.
After enduring the violent tossing and turning of a summer storm, dawn finally broke. The sun rose into a pink-tinted sky, and the rain subsided.
Exhausted from a sleepless night, Hoffa stepped onto the deck to find large groups of sailors waving their wands to repair the damage caused by the storm. Seagulls cried and circled above, and strange marine creatures were scattered across the deck.
There were hermit crabs carrying houses on their backs, coiled starfish, limp salted fish, and jellyfish with their transparent, squishy bodies—all swept up by the storm.
Hoffa wandered cautiously, scanning his surroundings, but there was no sign of the snake. It was as if everything from the night before had been a figment of his imagination.
On June 21, the storm's aftermath marked the fourth day since leaving the Thames. The Le Papillon arrived at Lisbon on the Iberian Peninsula. The ship docked briefly to resupply and exchange passengers.
However, due to its size, the Le Papillon did not dock at the port. Hoffa could only lean over the deck, watching transport boats ferry goods and wizards from the shore to the cruise ship. From afar, he admired the Portuguese city with its iconic orange rooftops, daydreaming about the sights it might offer.
The Le Papillon quickly completed its resupply and prepared to set sail again.
It was then that Hoffa noticed Olsiviah, who usually stayed in her cabin, standing on the deck, talking to someone.
The other person was a wizard in his forties, dressed in a Ministry of Magic uniform, wearing glasses, and looking anxious and nervous.
After their conversation, Olsiviah leaned against the deck railing, her brows furrowed.
Hoffa, who had never seen that expression on her face before, approached her and casually asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just work," Olsiviah replied.
Hoffa glanced at the retreating figure of the man in Ministry attire.
"Who was that?"
"An employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. When we reach Morocco, they'll assist me," she said lightly.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement? That meant he was an Auror.
Something felt off to Hoffa. The last time he'd encountered Aurors was after the attack on Hogsmeade last year.
"What exactly are you here for?" Hoffa asked.
Olsiviah cast a glance at him, then, after a moment, reached out to straighten his collar.
"Your collar's flipped again. Don't be so careless when we're in Morocco."
Hoffa was speechless.
By June 23, Hoffa could see the red-earth continent of Africa and the green date palms lining its shores. That night, the Le Papillon passed through the Strait of Gibraltar, entering northwest Africa.
It was Hoffa's first time on this ancient continent, even in his two lifetimes. By now, he knew that in 1939, Morocco was still under French protection and had not yet gained full independence.
Like in Lisbon, the Le Papillon did not dock.
Hoffa and Olsiviah boarded a small lifeboat from the ship's boathouse, speeding toward the port of Casablanca.
As they approached, the famous African city grew clearer in view. From afar, Hoffa could see the yellow-green tower of the Hassan II Mosque.
But as soon as Hoffa disembarked, the suffocating atmosphere shattered any illusion of a leisurely trip and dampened his excitement about setting foot in Africa for the first time.
The streets were filled with armed soldiers. Some had brown or yellowish skin and wore white or black Arabian robes. The oppressive aura of conflict and control was overwhelming.
Dusty mosaic streets were patrolled by soldiers who occasionally shoved black men forward with their guns, shouting orders in a language Hoffa couldn't understand.
The black men, most of them in tattered clothing and with iron shackles on their feet, moved with their hands on their heads.
Watching this scene, Hoffa couldn't help but glance at his magical pocket watch.
Could Headmaster Dippet's friend really live in a place like this?
He began to doubt whether he could repair the watch and questioned the purpose of this entire task.
And why was Olsiviah here? What exactly was she planning to do in this place?
Of course, Hoffa no longer expected Olsiviah to give him any answers.
After disembarking, she casually tapped her wand on Hoffa. Instantly, his shirt and work pants transformed into an Arabic robe.
As for Olsiviah, her clothing shifted into a pitch-black burqa as she walked. The garment covered her face completely, leaving only her green eyes visible. Taking a map out of her bag, she studied it for a moment before choosing a direction.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Hoffa shrugged and followed her into the heavily guarded city.
The area was filled with gray-white geometric buildings adorned with Arabic script and Quranic verses.
Occasionally, Muggle soldiers with rifles slung across their backs cast scrutinizing glances at the pair, but their attention quickly shifted elsewhere.
It took passing through six layers of barbed wire security fences before the atmosphere began to ease. The streets grew slightly busier, with pedestrians balancing goods on their heads and merchants selling their wares.
Even so, Hoffa still noticed watchful eyes and dark gun barrels on rooftops near the streets, visible through the arched windows.
Olsiviah led Hoffa through the city for about an hour, weaving through alleys and streets while consulting her map.
After thirty minutes, something felt off—Olsiviah had led Hoffa back to the same spot where they had entered the city.
The scorching, dry heat had left Hoffa drenched in sweat, and the Arabic robe felt like a woolen blanket trapping the heat. Clenching his teeth, he glanced at the tall girl beside him. She looked calm as ever, checked the map again, and chose a new direction.
As his muscles began to ache, Hoffa remembered his newly acquired Madman's Knowledge—the Alchemy of Life Conversion.
By converting magic into vitality, he could recover his strength.
His internal energy meter dipped, while his vitality surged.
Vitality: 6
Magic: 4
The fatigue subsided significantly, and Hoffa quickly caught up to Olsiviah's pace.
Admittedly, this new knowledge was proving quite useful at times.
However, the effect of the conversion only lasted about half an hour before the fatigue returned.
Worse still, after thirty minutes, Olsiviah once again led Hoffa back to the starting point.
Looking entirely unfazed, she glanced at the map and chose yet another direction, continuing to stride confidently through the residential areas.
Finally, Hoffa couldn't take it anymore. He felt like he would pass out from heat exhaustion if they kept wandering aimlessly. This senior of his must have a terrible sense of direction—why else would they keep ending up at the same place?
"Excuse me, can I take a look at that map?"
After another thirty minutes, Hoffa, shielding himself from the blazing sun with one hand, asked while panting heavily.
Olsiviah handed the map over without protest.
Hoffa took it and entered a meditative state, his mental energy field quickly scanning the surrounding environment.
After analyzing for a while, his face darkened. He held up the map. "Where are we supposed to go?"
Olsiviah pointed to a spot on the map. "The Le Brun Hotel, in the city center."
"And where are we now?"
After a brief hesitation, Olsiviah pointed to the bottom right corner of the map. "Here."
Hoffa rotated the map 180 degrees and pointed to the bottom left corner. "Sorry, but we're here. You've been going the wrong way."
There was a moment of silence.
"The heat must be affecting my thinking," Olsiviah said, completely unbothered.
Hoffa chose not to respond. He adjusted his direction, converted more magic into vitality (Vitality: 7), and strode off purposefully, with Olsiviah following close behind.
While 70% vitality was substantial, the dwindling magic reserves began to subtly affect Hoffa's mind, leaving him with a mild headache.
At that moment, Hoffa's thoughts drifted to his two friends.
Miranda was likely sitting quietly in a library somewhere, reading a Muggle book while enjoying the cool breeze of an electric fan. Occasionally, she might even chat with her other personality.
And Aglaea? She was probably lounging on some white sandy beach in the Mediterranean, sipping iced fruit juice and commanding a team of servants to add more ice cubes to her drink.
At long last, after another half hour of walking, they reached the elevated part of the city. The architecture around them began to change, with the geometric buildings giving way to towering structures in a Catholic style.
The rooftops transitioned from domes to spires, and the decorations shifted from Quranic verses to intricate carvings and crosses.
Olsiviah presented some documents, leading Hoffa across a heavily guarded street. The environment here was noticeably cleaner and more orderly, with abundant greenery. The local population also shifted, with more white individuals in view.
Pulling down her black veil, Olsiviah transformed back into her usual London attire. She reached for her wand, intending to reverse Hoffa's disguise as well.
However, before she could act, Hoffa had already undone the transformation spell on himself. He even shortened the sleeves of his shirt as a finishing touch.
The heat was unbearable. If he had enough magic, Hoffa wished he could transform into a Thunderbird and summon a storm to drench the place.
Olsiviah froze for a moment, seemingly surprised that her transformation spell had been so easily undone by the boy in front of her.
She frowned subtly and tucked her wand back into her pocket.
They passed through a row of dense palm and dragon blood trees, arriving in front of a circular thatched-roof estate. The six or seven-story structure was simple yet imposing. The mosaic-tiled entrance was lined with vintage cars.
It was a hotel—a remarkably upscale one. Even by future standards, it would easily qualify as a luxury establishment.
"We're here. Do you speak French?" Olsiviah asked, dabbing the sweat from her face with a handkerchief before pulling out another and handing it to Hoffa.
"No," Hoffa replied honestly. He took the handkerchief, wiped his sweat, and handed it back, but she waved it off, signaling for him to keep it.
"In that case, don't wander off. Things have been a bit chaotic around here lately."
As soon as they entered the hotel, pushing open the door, a pleasant chime sounded from the reception desk.
Almost immediately, a bellboy emerged from the corridor and exchanged a few words in French with Olsiviah. Afterward, he bowed politely and guided them through a narrow hallway, past an open-air swimming pool.
They arrived at a counter inside the hotel.
Behind it lay a Baroque-style arched hall. The walls were paneled in rough redwood, and the floor was covered in deep red circular carpets.
At the center of the hall, behind the counter, sat an elderly man and a young female clerk. Hoffa immediately deduced that the old man was in charge.
The man's hair was snow-white, his head partly bald. He wore a tropical-print shirt adorned with palm trees, a silver necklace around his neck, and rings on at least seven of his ten fingers. Tattoos covered his exposed neck and arms.
This old man was quite the peacock.
Upon seeing them approach, the man straightened up from his wicker chair, putting down the hookah pipe he had been puffing on.
He smiled faintly, revealing gums dyed a deep red.
"Hello, welcome to the Le Brun Hotel. Are you here for accommodation or business?"
His English was heavily accented with French, making it somewhat difficult to understand.
Olsiviah pulled out a hairpin, which transformed into a letter. She handed it over.
"Business, but we'll also stay for a while."
The old man's cheerful demeanor vanished the moment his eyes landed on the letter's signature.
Taking the letter, he pulled a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket and carefully read it, word by word.
After a long moment, he retrieved a wand from beneath the counter and tapped the Hogwarts Headmaster's seal on the letter.
Finally, he put away the glasses, stood up, and extended his hand to Olsiviah. "Raymond Jean Le Brun."
"Olsiviah," the tall girl replied expressionlessly as they shook hands.
Raymond sat back down, sighing. "It's been a long time since anyone from Hogwarts visited. How is Headmaster Dippet doing?" (This time, his English was much more standard.)
"Very well," Olsiviah said flatly. "As for the matters concerning Beauxbatons, I'd appreciate it if you could notify them."
Raymond's expression grew slightly solemn as he nodded. "I'll inform the school."
Olsiviah added, "Once you return, I'll bring the item back with me. Make it quick."
Hoffa had no idea what they were discussing; the whole conversation felt like an enigma.
Still, he caught one thing—the man's name: Raymond Le Brun. He was likely related to François Le Brun, the creator of Hoffa's pocket watch.
It seemed that this was the contact Headmaster Dippet had sent him to find.
When their conversation ended, Raymond pocketed the letter. Only then did he notice the slightly gaunt boy standing beside the green-robed witch.
Turning to Hoffa, he asked, "And you? Accommodation or business?"
Hoffa unfastened his pocket watch and handed it over.
"Headmaster Dippet sent me to get this watch repaired," Hoffa explained.
Raymond glanced at the watch and smiled faintly. "Ah, a François magical watch. It's been preserved well. This is one of my father's earlier designs. It can measure and store magic. A reliable piece. But…" He tilted the watch in his hand. "It seems like this one lacks a magical crystal, so it can no longer store magic."
Father? So this flamboyant old man was François's son?
"Can it still be repaired?" Hoffa asked.
"Oh, it's repairable, no doubt about that," Raymond said with a shrug. "But you've come at an inconvenient time. My father disappeared two years ago while adventuring in XZ. Likely dead by now."
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09
— Un nuevo capítulo llegará pronto — Escribe una reseña
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder