Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 1148: Chapter 230: Breaking News 11

The next moment, the confusion in the man’s expression shattered instantly, as if waking abruptly from a dream, and he roared with a twisted face:

”No, I don’t trust the Wizengamot! Die, Laira! Only Hosone deserves to lead us!!!”

As he shouted, he had already drawn his Magic Wand and swung it forcefully like a whip.

”Snap!”

A cracking sound echoed in the air!

”Stop!” someone shouted in panic loudly.

The next moment—

”Boom!!!!”

Accompanied by a deafening explosion, dense green smoke gushed out, followed by blinding fire that instantly consumed the area near the platform, a massive shockwave hurling debris, splinters, and bodies in all directions!

At the same time, the smoke was mixed with a nauseating stench, and just touching it to the skin felt intensely painful.

”Ah—”

”Help!”

”It’s poison gas... Disperse it, quickly!”

Screams rose, mixed with a few particularly shrill, short cries, one of them sounding very much like Laira herself.

”Scourgify!”

”Aguamenti!”

”Scourgify!”

Everyone brandished their Magic Wands, with powerful spells intertwining in rays of light, as a harsh wind blew and streams of water gushed.

In just two or three seconds, the smoke was swiftly swept away, the acrid smell dissipated mostly, and the wet ground showed only two or three spots still smoking.

But after seeing the scene before them clearly, everyone took a breath in shock—

The power of that Explosive Spell was surprisingly great, leaving a horrifyingly large crater in the area in front of the podium, with rubble and earth overturned and bricks even flying over a dozen meters away.

The ground was scattered with scarlet blood, visible dismembered limbs and shredded clothing, one piece seemingly from Laira’s Robe.

Among the crowd that had gathered in front to question or arrest Laira before, several people had fallen in a pool of blood, their bodies incomplete, evidently already dead.

Another seven or eight people, covered in blood and dust, lay moaning in pain not far away, some holding broken legs, some with chests mangled and bloody, others charred black with weak breaths, their injuries extremely serious.

Among the corpses and injured, Laira was nowhere to be seen, nor a paralyzed Fontana.

But this didn’t seem surprising—both of them were right in the center of the attack, supposedly blown apart in such a terrible Explosive Spell.

Amid the silence, only the groans of the injured and the crackling of ember flames echoed.

The air was filled with the smell of burnt flesh and blood.

People stared at the crater, the blood, the dismembered limbs, and the empty podium in shock, unable to speak.

The man who killed many colleagues laughed triumphantly, saying intermittently: ”Chairman Hosone—those who wronged you, those who framed you, all deserve to die!”

An official shouted in furious anger: ”Corbin, how dare you—!”

Before he could finish, terror filled his expression, and he instinctively took a step back.

Only to see the man’s body suddenly stiffen, blood uncontrollably trickling from the corner of his mouth, facial expression still smug, but his body falling straight backward.

”Bang!”

Amid flying dust, the ground claimed yet another fresh corpse.

Silence once again enveloped the courtyard of Congress, everyone watching the man’s abrupt death, emotions lodged like a stone in their throats, neither swallowable nor expressible.

[What does this mean? Did Hosone’s supporters kill Laira? Was he silenced by someone? Or is this all a third party’s conspiracy?]

[Between Laira and Seraphina, who spoke the truth? How reliable is the evidence?]

[Was this explosion a trial, a revenge, or a silencing? What role did the vanished Hosone play?]

Questions swirled, and anger and trust seemed to lose any clear target, like headless flies bumping around in the mind.

Many faces were full of confusion and helplessness, feeling this grand revelation and confrontation ended too abruptly, too bloodily, leaving too many unresolved mysteries.

A sense of ”it shouldn’t end like this” spread.

And those who were just shouting to kill Laira now faced with the bloody scene, couldn’t help but question:

”This... This is too much.” Someone said with a pale face, ”Even if she’s guilty, she should be judged by the Wizengamot... This... is too cruel.”

”Perhaps... Laira is the one being framed?” Another voice hesitated, filled with fear and reflection, ”Think about it carefully, what she said makes a lot of sense...”

”Headmaster Fontana’s adherence to the Confidentiality Law may be excessive, but the initial intention was not necessarily wrong.” The older wizard teared up, murmuring, ”Think of Grindelwald... think of those dangers after exposure...”

”Ha!”

In the crowd, Scrimgeour suddenly sneered.

He patted the dust on his sleeve, turned to Ms. Bones nearby, and asked, ”Does it look familiar, Amelia?”

Amelia Bones frowned slightly, nodding, ”Back then... it was also an explosion like this. Peter Pettigrew faked his death and successfully framed Sirius Black.”

”If I’m not mistaken...” Scrimgeour squinted slightly, saying, ”They even used the same spell.”

Protected behind Kingsley, Sinclaire raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curled into a mocking smile, speaking in a gentle tone:

”Peter Pettigrew was at least generous enough to leave behind a finger as proof of his tragic end. While this Madam Laira Piqueley—”

His gaze swept over the blood-stained clothing fragments on the ground, clicking his tongue, he shook his head without saying anything more excessive.

But the surrounding American Wizards felt, it might be better if he just said it.

Some glared angrily at the British Wizards, expressing grief and indignation: ”People are already dead, and yet you...”

”They might not be dead!” Samuel Goldstein stared carefully at the explosion scene for a while, speaking sternly, ”These remnants do not belong to Laira Piqueley and Fontana, the two may very well have fled!”

Someone hesitated, ”But Congress Headquarters prohibits Apparition...”

”Then what about Portkeys?” Samuel asked sharply, ”What about the House-Elf’s Apparition magic? The Animagus Transfiguration? If they could transform into insects as small as ants, they would disappear from our sight just the same.”

Speaking simultaneously, Samuel glanced at the rubble, he surprisingly spotted a small ant crawling quickly into the gap between stones.

His heart skipped a beat, instinctively cast a Flame Curse, incinerating the ant into charcoal in the blink of an eye.

No surprises occurred, the ant didn’t suddenly transform into Laira or Fontana.

Only Vid far off frowned, his finger twitched slightly.

Others also saw this scene and similarly contemplated the consequences if Laira and Fontana were the masterminds behind all this and then escaped—

Although it’s unclear why Fontana didn’t immediately break free after being bound, his spellcasting abilities were undoubtedly far superior than most...

If Fontana launched a secret attack, how many could confidently withstand two rounds?

”Immediately track the Portkey’s Magic Traces! Check the Floo Network! Seal all exits! Perez, get your people moving—”

Someone shouted, only for their voice to abruptly stop.

It was only then the crowd remembered that the Director of the Floo Network Administration, Reginald Perez, was already dead, dying a gruesome death.

His deputy was suspended pending investigation for some reasons, leaving this crucial functional department leaderless at the critical moment!

Looking around, the upper echelons of the Magic Congress were nearly wiped out. Those still standing were mostly on Rita Skeeter’s earlier list of accusations.

Even if Laira claimed those were fake and the female reporter was just a rumormonger, at this moment, people still didn’t dare trust those officials named.

Officials who secretly supported Laira also didn’t dare to step forward rashly—

Incompetence isn’t a crime, but standing in the foreground...

The doubts and attacks Laira suffered previously, wouldn’t they descend upon them too?

At this time, everyone chose silence to preserve themselves wisely.

Hence, a great, unparalleled panic and confusion, like an icy tide drowned the remaining people.

They looked at each other, eyes filled with bewilderment: What do we do next? Who will take charge of the situation? Who is the enemy? Who can we trust?

Then, almost unanimously, many turned their gaze to the only person in the area still worthy of everyone’s trust—Seraphina Picquery.

Yet Seraphina was already struggling to even stand, almost putting all her weight onto her niece Stella’s arm.

”Madam Piqueley... no, Chairwoman Picquery!” A seasoned legislator stepped forward, pleading in tone: ”Please tell us what to do! We need your leadership!”

However, Seraphina only slowly, resolutely shook her head.

In the crowd, that Eastern European wizard quickly laughed, then deeply sighed.

And Vid lightly waved his Magic Wand, the forgotten Flow Mirror image suddenly started jumping, rewinding, followed by Rita Skeeter’s previously obscured voice sounding again:

”According to records, Director Alonso has, in the past two years, manipulated his position seventeen times to assist unchecked goods entry into the United States, with the verified destination being facilities related to the Prometheus plan...”

”Senior Advisor Talik Wheeler altered the monitoring data of Magic Power surges, resulting in five Muggle-born young wizards falling into the hands of Prometheus, yet the Magic Congress failed to respond timely...”