Although most officials at the Ministry of Magic tell stories and try to maintain a facade of peace, they do have their merits.
For example, they are very skilled at using Forgetfulness Spells, deftly and swiftly erasing several days' worth of memory from a group of people.
And their proficiency in Mending Charms and Scouring Charms is also very high.
In just about ten minutes, the parking lot was restored to its original state, the slime and blood stains inside and outside the truck had vanished, the broken glass by the spiders, the rearview mirror knocked off during a scruffy guy's fight, and the dents on the car all looked as good as new.
As for the people lying on the ground, the folks at the Ministry of Magic benevolently stuffed them into different cars, as if worrying they might catch cold, but really just worried someone would notice a large group of people lying there and make a big fuss and report it.
"What will they think when they wake up?"
A young employee of the Ministry of Magic turned back to look at the people they had left behind, and asked worriedly:
"Showing up inexplicably on a ship, they're definitely going to call the police, right? It might even cause a stir."
"Don't worry."
An older employee said with a smile: "As long as they ask their relatives and friends, or the ship's staff, they'll know they boarded by themselves. As for the amnesia..."
Another person said: "There are so many factors that could cause amnesia—like accidentally hitting their head or drugs. How could those foolish Muggles even think it's magic?"
Everyone laughed, their laughter filled with contempt for another group.
They chatted and laughed as they returned upstairs, ready to continue enjoying this trip.
Vid, hiding behind the pipe as a Transfiguration Peregrine Falcon, stuck his head out and watched them walk away so unburdened, shaking his head helplessly.
No wonder a person like Fudge could secure the position of Minister of Ministry of Magic. If the fact of Voldemort's resurrection hadn't been made public, he could have even slandered Dumbledore as a senile old man and expelled him from Hogwarts, with most of the Ministry of Magic's staff not openly opposing him.
Because for many, Fudge represents their interests too — not needing to be too serious, not needing to be too responsible, and mistakes are okay too; they can slack off at work...
The abilities and style of those in power influence everyone below them.
Vid left the parking lot, dealt with the bomb placed on the ship, and then returned here. He stayed above the pipes, patiently waiting for the people below to wake up.
Before long, someone awoke.
He found himself in a strange car, panic-stricken as he carefully pulled out a weapon, looked around, and after confirming it was safe, cautiously opened the door, concealing himself as he crept out.
Soon, this person took off from the parking lot, using other vehicles to shield his figure all the way.
The others also woke up one after another, their actions almost like a copycat version of the first person.
Because the Ministry of Magic had stuffed them into different cars, it seemed to those waking up that they had been set up alone, without realizing there were multiple "companions" in the parking lot.
Some were more attentive and would first collect intel within the car but would still swiftly leave this unsettling place within a couple of minutes.
The elderly white-haired man was the last to wake up.
To be precise, he was awakened by the ringing of his phone.
Those who had left the parking lot earlier dialed the phone of the white-haired gentleman after roughly understanding their situation, reporting their experience to him, and were surprised to find he was in the same situation.
"Wait, don't discuss it over the phone."
The white-haired gentleman sat in the car, looking around cautiously, then spoke softly, "Gather the others, we'll discuss at the safe house."
He hung up, also leaving in a hurry.
Vid quietly followed them and discovered their so-called safe house was a room on the seventh floor.
It was the white-haired man's bedroom with a small living room. Six or seven people crowded inside, making it feel quite cramped.
"...The situation is like this, Kater, Julie, Tom and me, we've all lost the memory of the recent three days, and Sita has lost five days of memory. Anyone want to share their thoughts?"
The white-haired gentleman tried to speak calmly.
People began speaking one after another—
"Magic."
"Forgetfulness Spell."
"I've heard about that...spell, it's Obliviate!"
"But the news we received says that several Werewolves kidnapped a group of Alchemists, right? Most Werewolves shouldn't be skilled in such a spell."
"That would generally be the case, but you can't rule out exceptions."
"But I think...it's very likely someone else was involved in this matter—such as the British Auror who came to rescue the Alchemists."
"Forgetfulness Spell is indeed the Ministry of Magic's favorite spell to use."
"Which means those Werewolves have probably been caught."
"Can we still contact the person who sold us the information before?"
"Rather than that, I'd like to say—Are we really safe discussing this here? Could there be a Wizard lurking nearby, but we have no way of discovering him?"
The room suddenly fell silent for a moment, none of them speaking, their wary eyes instinctively scanning every corner of the room.
"No need to worry."
The white-haired old man was the only one not looking around. He said calmly:
"I considered that on the way here. The Ministry of Magic usually looks down on Muggles and won't play tricks on us—if they wanted to know something or wanted to do something, they would have done it while we were unconscious."