The French Minister of Magic became more and more emotional as he spoke.
What he said also happened to confirm Link's suspicions.
Under the current circumstances, there were only two forces capable of causing this level of destruction to the French Ministry of Magic: the Shadow Men and the International Confederation of Wizards.
Based on the minister's account, the Confederation could basically be ruled out.
The group led by old Harris had most likely only intended to take advantage of the chaos. The true culprit behind this disaster was still the Shadow Men.
But what was their purpose?
Link stayed silent. Only after the French Minister of Magic had calmed down a little did he continue,
"Then go on, Minister. What exactly happened here? What's with the Inferi and the Fused Butchers outside? And why were you hiding here?"
The moment Link finished speaking, the French Minister of Magic, who had maintained an elegant posture all this time, even while agitated, still sitting as solemnly as the portraits on the wall, suddenly widened his eyes. He waved both hands wildly in the air and roared,
"I'm not leaving! I absolutely won't leave! Just a few more months! Just a few more months and I'll finally be rid of all this mess and become a resident of Sky City! How can I leave? How can I..."
Old Klie stepped forward and pressed a hand against the minister's forehead, using magic to force him back into the armchair. Then he pulled open his eyelids and continued examining him.
After a long while, he turned to Link and reported,
"He's gone mad. To be exact, he's probably been insane for quite some time now. What he said earlier was most likely the rambling of a madman."
"What a pitiful minister."
Link sighed and shook his head, though a trace of contempt appeared in his eyes.
The words of a madman weren't necessarily lies.
Using Legilimency to judge him, Link could tell that everything the man had revealed earlier was basically true. Anything vague was only because the minister genuinely didn't know, not because he was deliberately avoiding the subject.
As for why he reacted so violently the moment he was asked what had happened to the French Ministry of Magic...
Link thought it was probably because what had happened here had gone beyond what he could endure, driving him insane.
But while someone like that looked pitiful, he wasn't worthy of pity at all.
Judging from what he'd just said, combined with the intelligence Link had gathered himself, this man was a complete and utter selfish opportunist. The only thing that mattered to him was his own benefit. The French Ministry of Magic, the French magical community, and even every wizard living on this land were nothing more than tools to satisfy his own desires.
The Shadow Men had manipulated Headmistress Maxime into jointly stealing and using Nicolas Flamel's inheritance to expand Beauxbatons without restraint.
Did the minister really not know that the Shadow Men were secretly building up their own power behind the cover of Beauxbatons?
Of course he knew.
After all, he was the French Minister of Magic.
When it came to supervising and controlling subordinate departments and the country's wizards, he far surpassed Fudge, the former British Minister of Magic.
Otherwise, there was no way he could have completely subdued the pure-blood forces in the French magical world and pushed through an equal and open system.
Yet he deliberately turned a blind eye to Beauxbatons' growing strength and simply let it continue unchecked.
The reason was simple.
Political achievements.
Nicolas Flamel's inheritance was simply too enormous.
If such a huge amount of Galleons were released all at once, it might disrupt the entire Galleon market and trigger rapid inflation. But it would also allow the French magical community to seize resources from wizards all over the world through its financial advantage, further accelerating France's development.
The French magical economy would reach an unprecedented peak in a very short time.
And that would become the greatest political achievement of his time as Minister.
As for the inflation, the bursting bubble, and all the consequences after Flamel's inheritance was eventually exhausted...
He didn't care at all.
By then, he would most likely have already retired, joined the International Confederation of Wizards, and become a resident of Sky City thanks to his high prestige and long years in office.
At that point, none of those problems would have anything to do with him.
To achieve that goal, not only had he failed to stop the Shadow Men and Headmistress Maxime, he had done everything he could to clean up after them.
What happened at the International Confederation of Wizards earlier was a perfect example.
The French Minister of Magic had sold out France's interests not only to please old Harris, the Confederation's president, and calm Link's anger, but also to cover up the Shadow Men's mistakes.
A person this selfish deserved no sympathy.
The ones who deserved pity were the ordinary wizards who had elected him as Minister of Magic.
Their interests, even their lives, had become bargaining chips in his hands, handed over to the devil in exchange for a worthless promise.
How foolish.
How selfish.
Link let out a heavy sigh and held out a hand toward old Klie.
Old Klie understood immediately. He pressed his index finger against the French Minister of Magic's temple and gave a hard pull, drawing out a thread that shimmered with silvery-white light.
Link took the strand. As a large amount of magic poured out, he recreated the effect of a Pensieve, and thick mist quickly filled the entire minister's office.
Everyone present felt their vision blur for a moment.
When the scene cleared, everything before them had changed.
It was still the minister's office.
But unlike the magnificent, palace-like office they had seen earlier, the office in the minister's memory was incredibly plain. In terms of comfort alone, it wasn't even as good as the filthy Auror break room in the British Ministry of Magic.
The owner of this memory, the perspective Link and the others were viewing, was sitting behind a battered blackwood desk, patiently reviewing a document.
One thing worth noting was that, unlike the British Ministry, which commonly used parchment, the French Ministry used ordinary A4 paper, which was much cheaper. Even the quills had been replaced with fountain pens.
From this viewpoint, the French Minister of Magic also sat with impeccable posture. Combined with the humble surroundings and the cheap paper in front of him, it painted the image of an honest, hardworking minister.
But a closer look at the contents of the document instantly shattered that image.
Because it detailed plans to transfer French Ministry resources to the International Confederation of Wizards, to old Harris.
The document clearly stated that, in addition to what had already been agreed upon during the First International Confederation Mediation Conference, the French Ministry was willing to make another enormous donation of resources to Sky City in exchange for the Confederation's personal support for him.
This included requesting that the Confederation send peacekeeping forces to station themselves in France to maintain his rule, as well as asking for privileges beyond those of ordinary citizens after he retired and entered Sky City.
This was outright selling out his own country for personal gain.
After approving the document, the French Minister carefully sealed it before placing it into a special mail tube beside his desk.
Judging from the relieved look on his face, any letter placed into that tube would be delivered to its destination through an extremely secure and confidential method.
Bang!
The office door suddenly flew open.
A woman dressed as a secretary rushed in, clutching a stack of documents.
The minister's view shook slightly. He had obviously been startled, but he quickly regained his composure and coldly said,
"Haven't I taught you basic manners? Get back outside! Knock before coming in!"
His stern image was clearly deeply rooted in the secretary's mind.
The already pale woman's face instantly turned an even darker shade.
She carefully backed out, closed the door, and knocked again.
Only after the minister said, "Come in," did she gently open the door and enter once more.
"Go ahead. Why are you in such a panic? What happened this time?"
"M-Minister... Headmaster Norton of Beauxbatons... he... he committed suicide in the Ministry's main hall, right in front of everyone!"
"Impossible!"
The French Minister of Magic slammed the desk and shot to his feet.
"How could that man possibly die? And by suicide? What utter nonsense!"
"I know! I couldn't believe Headmaster Norton would commit suicide either! But whether we believe it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that everyone outside believes it! In just the few minutes since Headmaster Norton killed himself, more than ten Aurors, staff members, and civilians have already followed his example and committed suicide. It's thrown the main hall into complete chaos. Everyone is rushing the reception hall right now, demanding an explanation from you!"
"Outrageous! Release the Matagot cats and have them deal with those rioters attacking the reception hall!" the minister roared. "And dispatch the Auror Corps immediately. Seal off the entire Ministry. Don't let anyone carry the news outside!"
"It's too late, Minister! Too late!" the secretary cried. "A reporter from the French Magical Post was in the main hall when Headmaster Norton committed suicide. The moment it happened, he used a Portkey and left. By now..."
Her voice came to an abrupt stop.
A fountain pen had pierced straight into her eye socket, leaving only part of the end sticking out.
"Useless! You're all useless! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"
The French Minister of Magic roared as he hurled everything off his desk, venting his rage.
Only after he gradually calmed down did he suddenly notice that the secretary had collapsed in a pool of blood.
"Oh! Lolita! Are you alright? I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! Don't move! I'll get a healer right away! No... no one else can know about this either. Right, I still have potions. Essence of Dittany, Blood-Replenishing Potion... Hurry! Hurry! Where did I put them?!"
The minister muttered to himself as he frantically searched through his drawers.
He didn't want his secretary to die just like that.
It would seriously damage his reputation.
But a brand-new problem soon confronted him.
Aside from important items like documents, everything else in his office had always been organized and cleaned by his secretary. Even he didn't know where many things were kept.
Normally that wasn't a problem. She was the person he trusted most. Whenever he needed something, he simply asked her to fetch it.
But now...
The injured person was the secretary herself.
Sweat poured down the minister's face in panic.
Then, a familiar female voice suddenly spoke.
"The first-aid kit is in the third drawer of the bookcase on your right."
"Oh! Oh! Thank you, Lolita! Without you, I really wouldn't know..."
The minister answered instinctively.
But halfway through his sentence, he froze.
His body slowly straightened.
Large beads of sweat formed on his forehead and face, rolling down continuously. Some even flowed directly into his eyes.
Yet he didn't dare blink.
Instead, he stared fixedly at the pool of blood in front of the desk.
The secretary named Lolita was still lying there quietly.
Less than a minute had passed since the fountain pen pierced her eye socket, yet dark bluish-black corpse spots had already spread across her pale skin.
Her one remaining intact eye was fixed on the minister.
Its pupil was unfocused, completely lifeless.
Yet a faint gray magical glow lingered around it.
The French Minister of Magic collapsed back into his chair in terror.
Meanwhile, Lolita slowly twisted her body and stood up in an extremely unnatural posture.
"Minister, I'd like to borrow your Ministry of Magic. I assume you won't object... will you?"
"You!? You people! You filthy, disgusting vermin! Get out! I won't agree to any of your demands! This is the Ministry of Magic! Not a place where they can do as they please!"
The minister roared as he slammed the alarm button hidden beneath his desk.
Lolita saw everything, yet made no attempt to stop him. Instead, she smiled and said,
"I don't think you're really qualified to say that. Compared to us, you're far more deserving of the words 'filthy' and 'disgusting.' To be honest, a ruler as selfish as you is unlike anyone I've ever met. I've asked myself countless times: when you were young, you were also an ambitious man who wanted to make the French magical world prosper and give everyone a better life. So after all these decades... how did you become like this?"
The door behind Lolita opened once more.
A squad of uniformed Aurors walked in.
Seeing them, the French Minister of Magic finally relaxed a little and pointed at Lolita.
"She's under the Imperius Curse and tried to assassinate me! Deal with her immediately!"
The Aurors didn't move.
Every one of them simply stood silently behind Lolita, their expressions cold.
Only then did the minister realize something was terribly wrong.
Lolita tilted her head slightly. Her mouth, already rotting away, split into a smile as she continued, "I finally have the answer to that question."