Salty and cold seawater splashed harshly onto his face.

Barty Crouch Jr. woke up with a start, gasping for breath.

The dazed feeling vanished temporarily, as if he had been in a long nightmare.

He felt his body was back under his control—a situation that had occurred only a handful of times in the past decade.

Obviously, the Imperius Curse that the old man had cast on him had temporarily失效(shixiao, become ineffective).

However, before he could savor the long-lost taste of "sobriety," a strong sense of danger made his heart sink.

He suddenly opened his eyes, the dazzling white light stinging them. The familiar living room sofa and old walls were gone, replaced by a cold, metallic table and gray metal walls. Barty was certain that his home definitely did not have this place.

Then, the biting cold sent shivers down his spine, and he was horrified to find that he had been stripped naked.

Barty Crouch Jr. looked around uneasily. There was no one in sight, only a dripping pipe.

"Winky?! Winky—"

Only his own voice echoed in the empty room, further increasing his inner unease.

If it were normal circumstances, the house-elf who served the Crouch family would have appeared before him in fear and trembling.

But now...

"Very regrettable, your house-elf is not here."

A voice sounded in the room. Barty Crouch Jr. turned his head sharply and only saw something embedded in the upper corner of the room.

It looked like a black, square honeycomb, and the voice seemed to be coming from there.

"Who is it?! Where is this?! What do you want?!"

"Hey, it seems you haven't figured out your situation, Mr. Crouch—"

The voice did not answer, chuckled lightly, and spoke unhurriedly.

"Are you still expecting your father to save you? Too bad, old Barty Crouch is in a terrible fix right now and has no time to care about you. Moreover, compared to the Ministry of Magic, he might be more eager to see your corpse than a living person appearing before him."

"As for why you are here, and who we are..."

The voice paused, and Barty Crouch Jr. felt as if eyes were examining him from the front.

However, when he looked up, he only saw a cold wall and a huge mirror.

And in the center of the mirror, a green and glowing Dark Mark quietly appeared.

As Barty Crouch Jr.'s eyes gradually widened, the voice gradually became somber and cruel, as if a different person was speaking.

"The Lestranges are loyal. When Azkaban is breached, they will receive the reward they have dreamed of—and you, the traitor who escaped punishment thanks to your Ministry father, will be their best gift for getting out of prison. However, before that, you still have some special uses."

"After all, although you are a despicable and dirty traitor, you still know some of old Barty Crouch's secrets."

"Don't worry, you can struggle and resist as much as you like. We have plenty of time to slowly extract those..."

"W-Wait?! My master, master, are you my master?!"

Like a bolt of lightning, the voice instantly overlapped with a blurred sound in Barty Crouch Jr.'s mind.

He lunged forward somewhat madly and excitedly, trembling as he looked at the mirror reflecting his pale face and the Dark Mark. Although he could not see anyone else, he knew that the supreme and omnipotent Dark Lord, his master, could definitely see him.

"Master, master, please listen to my explanation. I have never betrayed you. I am constantly longing for news of you..."

"Lies—I smell shame, I smell the stench of lies!"

The voice interrupted coldly, laughing.

"I am disappointed, I am very disappointed. I thought you would proudly curse those officials like the Lestranges, instead of crying and begging for mercy like a dog wagging its tail... Of course, all of you traitors, I know, you must believe that I am finished, that I am done for, hoping to slip back into the midst of my enemies, saying that you are innocent, ignorant, under the Imperius Curse..."

"No, no... Master, listen to my explanation, I have never—"

Barty Crouch Jr. shuddered. He seemed to want to retreat, but he didn't dare to move.

"Never, ever, lie in the presence of the great Voldemort—"

The voice said calmly. Barty Crouch Jr. felt the hairs on his body stand on end, and something ominous was enveloping him.

The next second, a curse suddenly appeared from somewhere.

"Crucio!"

Barty Crouch Jr. curled up, like a cooked shrimp, writhing and screaming in pain on the ground. Intense pain occupied everything. He didn't know where he was… a white-hot knife was stabbing every inch of his skin, and he wished he could pull out his bones.

Then, it all stopped. Barty Crouch Jr. struggled to get up, shaking uncontrollably.

"Please, Master, please… forgive me! Please…"

"Get up, Barty, stand up." The voice said softly, cold and calm.

"You ask me to forgive you? No… I will not forgive. I will not forget. Those long, dark years… I want you to repay these decades of debt before I will forgive you. The reason you are still alive is only because you did not betray your companions to gain freedom like those other despicable traitors—of course, he was soon caught and executed—as for whether you are truly loyal or not, the great Voldemort will soon know..."

"Master, Master—I will never betray you. That old man..."

Barty Crouch Jr. said anxiously, constantly cursing old Barty Crouch, racking his brains to express his loyalty.

However, the rest of his words did not reach "Master."

…………

Behind that huge glass, dozens of researchers in white coats and black-robed wizards stood there.

Unlike the mirrored surface that Barty Crouch Jr. saw, the two-way mirror could easily observe everything happening in the room. And the spell attack port, based on the Hyperion magic weapon system modification, allowed the black-robed wizards to overcome physical barriers and easily control the situation.

As the "great Voldemort's" voice gradually faded, the microphone was synchronously turned off.

All of Barty Crouch Jr.'s words would be recorded by the recorder, sorted into documents, and uploaded for organizational safekeeping.

And now, the "Human Body Reshaping Project Team" was conducting a periodic assessment and summary conference, and discussing subsequent work pre-planned solutions.

"How is the feasibility of your magic? Mr. Singed."

Amonev frowned, turning to look at the wizard who was flipping through the data.

"Father's ashes, subordinate's flesh and blood, enemy's blood… These things plus that thing called Horcrux embryo, put in a pot and boil, can form an adult's body? Although I know that the principle of classical conservation is not so useful in the magic world, isn't this too strange?!"

"We discussed this issue before. This is actually a combination of alchemy and potion, involving the composite magic of concept stripping—"

The wizard called Singed put down the materials in his hand and explained in a calm tone.

If Barty Crouch Jr. were present, he would be surprised to find that this wizard had some similarities to the voice of "Voldemort" just now.

"At least from the literature, alchemical calculation records, and potion common sense, these steps seem to be feasible."

"Not to mention that these have all been confirmed by Ms. 'Fool's' prophecy. As for whether it is feasible or not, anyway, the experimental materials have all been applied for, so try it and you will know. By the way, one last declaration, that person inside can be tossed around, but you better be careful with that golden cup. If that thing is broken, it may be difficult to apply for important materials of the same grade afterwards—our project team will be directly blacklisted."

"Well, but I've always had a question, team leader…"

Just then, a witch standing behind Singed glanced at little Crouch and couldn't help but ask.

"Compared to Horcruxes and ashes, as time goes by, that Death Eater will always realize something is wrong. Once he begins to doubt 'Voldemort,' or even no longer believes in his heart that he is a follower of the other party, what should we do with these 'traitors' at that time?"

"Deal with? No, no, no—we are not vicious bad guys like Death Eaters…"

Singed glanced strangely at his new assistant and said righteously, a meaningful smile appearing on the corner of his mouth.

"Ms. Cassandra, if you wake up one day and find that your alarm clock is ten minutes late, what would you do?"

"Of course, I would adjust it back." Cassandra replied quickly.

"Yes, that's right." Singed laughed happily.

"Now you know what the answer is—"

…………

British Ministry of Magic, a magnificent hall.

This is the Wizengamot courtroom, and also the founding site of the Wizarding Federation.

Because of its special significance, this hall is rarely used and contains no documents or valuables.

Perhaps that's why it was the only room in the Ministry of Magic that survived last night's disaster.

At this time, it had been restored to the layout of the former United Assembly Hall.

Each seat was occupied by wizards from all over the world. Cornelius Fudge presided over the meeting, while Dumbledore sat on his side. Each wizard held a glowing wand, but some had white light spots, while others had red ones in front of their wands.

Overall, white light spots occupied the vast majority, and it was almost a pure white dreamlike starlight to look at.

At the bottom of the central steps in the conference hall, Kingsley Shacklebolt was patiently counting the number of light spots floating in the air.

And beside him, a tall blonde witch was also counting the values.

"...60 votes in favor, 17 votes against, 8 abstentions."

"The values on my side are the same, 60 votes in favor, 17 votes against, 8 abstentions."

The two said one after the other, looking towards the heads of the magic governments and magical authorities in front of them.

"Thank you very much—"

Cornelius Fudge nodded slightly, looked around, and said with a serious expression.

"So, the proposal for the establishment of s.h.i.e.L.d. will officially begin to be implemented from today onwards. The functions and structure of the original joint organization will also be incorporated into s.h.i.e.L.d. as discussed before, to jointly maintain the peace and order of the global magical world."

"In the initial stage of establishment, Albus Dumbledore will temporarily serve as the director of s.h.i.e.L.d., responsible for the initial screening of personnel for various positions."

"Now, we begin the second item of today. At the same time, it is also the last topic for discussion…"

Cornelius Fudge coughed lightly, looked at the thin parchment in his hand, and swallowed unnaturally.

"The beheading operation against the most dangerous Dark Lord Tom Riddle in history."

"Or rather..."

"The Dark Lord gambit plan!"

————

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Hooray!