Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 418: Chapter 113: Rampage

”Ding ling ling...”

The bell collided with the keys, making a clear and pleasant sound.

But to Mabel, hearing this sound meant someone else was being taken away.

She wasn’t the oldest child in the dungeon, but she had been there the longest.

Because she had magic ability, she was treated as a valuable resource once she was sent to this place. Those experiments severely damaging the body wouldn’t be used on her.

Later, as more children with magic abilities appeared, Mabel’s value diminished, and the experiments she endured grew increasingly brutal.

Yet even so, she never yielded to the organization.

Mabel was naturally gifted, and if it weren’t for her unwavering refusal to submit to the organization—even losing all her memories did not quell her hatred for them, and she even killed an important figure—she wouldn’t have become a target of their research.

During the years living in the dungeon, Mabel saw countless children thrown in. They often went from crying to realizing their predicament within a few days, becoming obedient and learning to comply.

The children always hoped that if they behaved well enough, they could leave this place—go home.

They always imagined that their parents and the police would rescue them soon.

It was because of this hope that they endured continuously.

But Mabel watched coldly, knowing that day would never come.

Once, a researcher accidentally had his arm bitten by her. In a rage, the man dragged her by the hair from the third to the fifth floor.

To that place akin to hell.

The researcher pointed to a Defodio corpse, sneering at her: ”See this, my dear Mabel?”

”If not for your research value, this would be your fate!”

”Two young wizards will be sent next month. Then you won’t be the only one with magic. How long do you think your special status will last?”

”Don’t be so arrogant, Mabel! When you fall into my hands, I’ll peel your skin off bit by bit... How about making a pair of shoes? Your skin suits the sole perfectly.”

Mabel barely heard what he said, her ears buzzing, her scalp so painful it seemed about to separate from her skull.

She was forced to hold her head high, unable even to close her eyes, staring blankly at the corpse.

Despite the remains being scattered, Mabel recognized it from the familiar curls—

It was the only person she regarded as a friend.

Mabel couldn’t control it, violently vomiting as if trying to expel her heart.

”Ding ling ling...”

Right, the researcher who wanted to peel her skin alive was this man who liked hanging bells on himself.

Just hearing this sound made Mabel tense up, involuntarily feeling fear and hatred.

She slowly turned her head, looking towards the direction of the bell sound.

This researcher, carrying a box, stumbled in, his mask missing, bloodstains prominent on his chest.

Seeing Mabel, he was instantly surprised: ”Mabel, you dared to escape!”

He quickly pulled out a gun and aimed at Mabel, then seemed to realize: ”Right, the attackers must be devils like you who released you, huh?”

Looking at the trembling girl on the ground, with that conspicuous collar on her neck, the researcher thought he understood everything.

The collar existed to restrict a wizard’s magic ability.

Even some young wizards, without having learned spells, might suddenly unleash powerful forces, causing significant damage to the laboratory.

Therefore, afterward, once their magic power fluctuations exceeded a certain threshold, the collar would automatically activate, restraining the wizard’s magic eruption.

This method of ”restrainment” was extraordinarily painful.

The wizards who attacked the base likely intended to rescue all the young wizards here, but during the battle, the collar on Mabel’s neck was activated, turning her into a burden, so she was abandoned, left alone here to die.

The researcher quickly glanced around, seeing no one in sight, immediately relaxing.

He walked over to Mabel, grabbing her collar and pulling her up from the ground, pushing her ahead of him, and said viciously:

”Get up, witch! Don’t lie on the ground playing dead; I know you can still move!”

”Hayley...” Mabel weakly asked, ”Where’s Hayley? You took her... Where is she?”

”Hayley?” The researcher sneered: ”That girl died long ago! Her heart was removed ten minutes ago! You’re asking where she is? Perhaps in the meat grinder! Stop dawdling! If you don’t want the same fate as her, walk ahead of me!”

The researcher shouted, poking Mabel’s head a few times with his gun.

He was calculating in his heart that if they encountered an attack, Mabel could serve as his shield.

If they’re confronted by a wizard, she would be a useful hostage.

If he could successfully escape with Mabel, this young wizard would be the ”important asset” he personally saved—

Those children on the island without magic, the buildings, equipment, or soldiers meant nothing to the higher-ups. But wizards, even as experimental subjects, were still highly valued.

Considering his contribution to reducing losses for the organization, perhaps they would arrange for him to a base with better benefits.