The Legend of Harry Potter Schoolmaster

Chapter 32: Wudu Soldier King

  London, the most prosperous city in the entire British Isles.

   But in the Newham area of ​​East London, it presents a completely different scene…This is the area with the most concentrated immigrants in London and one of the poorest areas in the UK, commonly known as the “slum area”.

   Under Conan Doyle, the most dangerous place in the fog of London is undoubtedly here; the famous “Jack the Ripper” was once active here.

   Dockers, ji women, black people… Almost all of the lowest-level figures in London society live here; of course, now maybe the refugees from the former Soviet Union should be added.

   After the huge country in the East disintegrated a year ago, countless “free” refugees flee to the West. Many strange Eastern European faces can be found in London, in Paris, in Amsterdam, the slums of every big Western European city.


   When an unfamiliar face appeared in the Newham district, a few malicious blacks quickly gathered around.

   But the black people took a look at the strong muscles of the target, and felt a little uncomfortable, and then slowly dispersed.

This 1.9-meter tall, black-skinned, sturdy man who looked fierce and rough, had a bottle of wine in his hand… He just glanced at the black people and hurried towards his destination. … As Conan Doyle said, this land is indeed full of evil, and he doesn’t want to fall here.

   Ten minutes later, he arrived at his destination: a low apartment.

   The whole apartment has a style of 19th-century architecture. The lime on the walls has fallen off, showing an ugly gray; several pillars seem to be crumbling, and the apartment may collapse at any time.

   The stranger stopped and knocked gently on the door.

   “Come in!” A weak and decadent voice came from the room.

   Pushing open the greasy wooden door, the space inside is incredibly narrow…An old sofa already occupies a half of the entire apartment, and the rest is piled with all kinds of wine bottles.

   Although the invaders don’t know much about the wine category, it can still be seen that these are cheap and inferior wines.

   “Who are you?” Lying on the sofa was a middle-aged man with gray hair and a decadent expression. He was wearing a gray dock worker coat.

  The invader frowned, and then passed the bottle of wine in his hand.

   “Vodka!” The middle-aged man who had just decayed like an old dog suddenly had energy.

   He quickly took the bottle of vodka, opened the mouth of the bottle with his teeth, and poured it into his throat like mineral water.


   “Sergei Ivanovich Pavlov?” The tall intruder asked softly.

   The middle-aged man who drank half a bottle of vodka, raised his head, his eyes sharpened.

   “Born in Ukraine in 1955…”

   “Started to play for the Soviet National Security Council in 1976…”

   “Participated in the war in Afghanistan in 1979…”

   “Awarded the Red Flag Medal in 1985…”

   The sturdy man’s voice was very calm, as if he was reciting an ordinary resume.

   “Who are you… from Scotland Yard, or from MI6?” Pavlov, lying on the sofa, roared; he is now like a polar bear ready to attack at any time, full of danger.

   “Don’t get me wrong!” The sturdy man smiled, “I just came here admiringly… My name is Varian Wrynn!”

   This is not like an English name, Pavlov thought to himself.

   “Your Excellency Wrynn, what do you do?” His English is not standard, and you can find many grammatical errors by listening carefully.

   An envelope was pushed in front of Pavlov, and when he opened it suspiciously, the whole person was shocked.

  The envelope contained 100 pound notes, at least twenty.

   Pavlov’s hands trembled a little, he was very short of money, very short of money.

“I can’t do anything illegal…” But he still has a certain sense of reason: “Scotland Yard has been eyeing me long ago, they hope to throw me into Edinburgh prison… I don’t have the same privileges as those black people. I still have a wife and daughter to take care of.”

   “There will be nothing illegal, I am a good law-abiding citizen!” Wrynn said sternly, “I just want to know something… Do you know Mr. Robert Wilson of Southampton?”

   “Mr. Wilson helped me and my wife and daughter smuggle to England a year ago, in Southampton Harbor!”

   “Mr. Wilson told me that you were a very good KGB agent?”

   “When I was training in Kazan, my performance in various subjects was always the first place in the same class.”

   “When you participated in the war in Afghanistan, you killed six Afghan armed personnel who tried to break into the barracks in a dark night without any lights…and you were awarded the Red Flag Medal for that!”

“Yes, my hearing is very good, I can locate by ear, and killed six terrorists in this way!” Pavlov smiled bitterly: “It’s a pity that the medal was replaced by me when I was in Moscow. Two pieces of black bread.”

“Then this gun, UU reading, can you use it?” As he said, the intruder threw Pavlov a Desert Eagle Mark I pistol: “The recoil is great, but You’d better try one-handed use!”

   Before Pavlov could reply, the door of the apartment was suddenly pushed open.

   An Eastern European woman broke in.

   She wore a chestless top and a short skirt that was almost waist-length. She only wore a cotton jacket… Her lips were covered with bright red lipstick, her face was covered with foundation, and the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes were not covered.

   It looks like she should have been a very beautiful hairy girl when she was young, but unfortunately she was only in her thirties, and her face had an old attitude that did not belong to her age.

   “Sergey… sorry… I didn’t know you had a guest…” she stammered.

   Then, she lowered her head and got into the back room of the apartment.

   “She… Sarah… my wife…” Pavlov stammered, lowering his head completely.

   “Let’s take a look at the gun first!” The intruder deliberately changed the subject.


“No problem.” Pavlov replied: “The Desert Eagle Mark I semi-automatic pistol developed by Israel in 1985 has great recoil, but it shouldn’t be a problem with one-handed operation with my strength… If you don’t believe me, I You can find a shooting range and try.”

   “No need, I believe you!” The sturdy man nodded.

   “Then what do you need me to do for you?” The veteran of the former Soviet Union asked softly, “Are you a bodyguard?”

   “No…” The other party shook his head: “I only need a bit of your hair!”


   “That’s right…” The other party took out an envelope again: “The total is three thousand pounds, I want to buy your hair, just a little bit!”

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