Arthur stared at the three files scattered across his study desk, each folder thick with damning evidence. Two days of reconnaissance. Two days of diving into mories that would haunt normal n for life.
Two days of discovering that his father had sohow managed to piss off the worst criminal organizations on the planet.
"This should be so kind of cosmic joke." he muttered, rubbing his temples.
His scouting missions to Greycairn and Ashridge estates had followed the sa pattern—falcon reconnaissance, invisible infiltration, stunning spells, and deep dives into guilty mories. But what he’d found in those minds made Voldemort look like a street-corner thug.
His father hadn’t just refused bribes from corrupt aristocrats.
He’d turned down partnerships with Marvel’s unholy trinity of evil.
—
Yesterday - Greycairn Estate
Arthur had discovered him in his wine cellar, examining bottles that probably cost more than most people’s houses.
The stunning spell worked perfectly. The Legilincy revealed horrors.
Where Ravenscar specialized in arms trafficking, Greycairn specialized in trafficking people. The mories that flooded Arthur’s mind were an education in human depravity.
His mories were full of horrors that made Arthur want to kill the man then and there, but he sohow stopped himself.
Arthur’s hands had trembled with barely contained rage. Even if killing Greycairn would be worth sacrificing his future and facing the consequences, he forced himself to pull back.
"Just a few more days," he whispered.
The people and backing that made it possible for him were revealed in one of the key mories.
A dimly lit boardroom. Greycairn sat across from an elderly woman whose presence commanded absolute attention.
"The Hand appreciates your continued cooperation, Lord Greycairn," Alexandra Reid said, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Your shipping routes have proven... invaluable."
"Always a pleasure, Lady Reid." Greycairn’s tone held genuine respect—and fear. "The Hand’s protection has been most beneficial to my enterprises."
Reid’s smile was razor-sharp. "Indeed. We shall require expanded operations in Southeast Asia. I trust this won’t be... problematic?"
"Not at all. My people will handle the logistics."
Arthur had nearly broken his Legilincy connection in shock. Alexandra Reid. One of the five fingers of the Hand—an organization that had terrorized the world for centuries.
—
This morning - Ashridge Estate
Earl Ashridge had been found in his private office, laundering money through shell companies with practiced efficiency. His mories revealed a financial empire built on washing dirty money for every criminal organization imaginable.
But his true backing beca clear when Arthur delved deeper.
A secure eting room. Ashridge faced three n whose arms bore identical tattoos—ten interlocking rings arranged in a perfect circle.
"The Ten Rings appreciates discretion above all else, Lord Ashridge," the lead man said in accented English. "Our funds must remain... untraceable."
"Understood completely." Ashridge’s hands shook slightly—whether from fear or excitent, Arthur couldn’t tell. "My systems are foolproof. Even the most determined investigators find only legitimate businesses."
"Good. The Mandarin values reliable partners. Disappoint us, and you will discover why we are feared across ten kingdoms."
Hearing the na Mandarin had been enough for Arthur to know what he was dealing with. The Mandarin. Xu Wenwu and his mystical Ten Rings—an organization that had conquered kingdoms and toppled governnts across millennia.
—
Now Arthur sat amid three files, each representing criminal organizations that were centuries old.
"My father really hit the villain jackpot," Arthur said aloud, his voice echoing off empty walls.
What were the odds? His father’s investnt expertise from his hints had attracted attention from people involved with three separate criminal empires. When he’d refused all three, they’d coordinated his murder like a business rger.
Arthur leaned back in his chair, mind racing. Killing the three lords would be simple enough but the fallout would be catastrophic.
Hydra would investigate Ravenscar’s death. The Hand would want answers about Greycairn. The Ten Rings would demand justice for Ashridge.
Arthur had confidence of handling whoever ca after him but completely eradicating these organisations, that would be impossible. Who knew how many bases and people they had. He could take out the leaders but that would lead to chaos.
Then there was the main headache.
Arthur pulled out the to Dumbledore had given him before he left the school—his copy of the Covenant. Arthur had studied every clause, every loophole, every exception.
The Covenant bound elected leaders and agency heads of both sides magically. When they took office, they signed with blood and intent, creating an unbreakable mystical contract. Wizards had to pursue magical criminals with all available resources. Muggles couldn’t experint on wizards or attack magical governnts without cause, and vice versa.
But the good thing was that the Covenant only applied to those who’d signed it, not the whole world. Arthur was not bound by it.
Lower-level operatives, private contractors, and criminal organizations remained free to act as they pleased. The solution for dealing with unsigned threats was straightforward. Since all the heads of various organizations had to sign, the activities of these organizations would never be missed by them. If they learn about the cris and don’t act, they would be risking their lives. Thus there wasn’t much of a loophole for Muggle governnts.
Things were much simpler for rogue wizards. The Muggles would need evidence, and it would lead to a trial where they would have to prove magical involvent. If such involvent could be proven, wizard manhunts could be authorized. Without evidence of magic being used, the Muggle governnts could not pursue the rogue wizard.
Which ant Arthur could have his revenge—he just needed perfect cris. Deaths that looked natural or caused by Muggle enemies. No magical traces. No suspicious circumstances.
The three lords would die, but their deaths couldn’t point toward supernatural involvent.
Arthur’s fingers drumd against his desk. He had many plans in his mind, but just to be careful, he decided on a trial run first.
He reached for another file, this one thinner than the others. Inside were two photographs and military service records.
General Marcus Whitmore. Colonel David Graves.
The middlen who’d actually carried out his parents’ murder.
Twenty years ago, they’d been lower-ranking officers drowning in debt and bad decisions. Ravenscar had owned them completely—one favor called in for mass murder. Now they were high-ranking military officials, their careers built on the foundation of corruption and cris.
Arthur smiled coldly.
Whitmore and Graves weren’t protected by criminal empires. They were just corrupt officers who’d traded their souls for promotions. Taking them out would be easier, and their deaths might provide valuable intelligence about the tracking thods of various organizations like MI6 and S.H.I.E.L.D.
Plus, they deserved to die first. They’d been the ones to order the attack and send agents after his family.
Arthur pulled out fresh parchnt and began sketching operational paraters. The deaths had to appear accidental or result from known enemies. Terrorist attacks. Espionage operations. Gang violence. Anything except magic.
The generals would die first. Their deaths would provide practical intelligence for planning the lords’ elimination.
His parents would have justice. So would the countless victims of these criminal syndicates.
And Arthur would deliver that justice without sacrificing his own future.
This had started as personal revenge.
Now it was sothing bigger.
Pest control on a global scale.
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