Cindy scratched his head. After locking eyes with the boy in front of him for a moment, he admitted defeat and was about to call the maintenance crew.

But at that moment—

He suddenly noticed the red-eyed boy lift his head and stare eerily at something behind him.

Startled by the boy’s expression for some reason, Cindy’s heart tightened. He hurriedly turned to look.

Behind him, there was only the cold cabin wall and a small window.

“…What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Dawn frowned slightly, then relaxed, smiled at the man, and jumped down from his seat.

Cindy was once again baffled.

Whose child is this? Too strange! And running around after a murder scene no less—his parents must have nerves of steel. Cindy muttered in his mind, about to tell him to go back and find his parents.

But just before he could speak, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest!

“Nngh—”

Cindy’s face went pale. He clutched his chest tightly, eyes wide, facial muscles twisting in agony.

It felt like a sudden heart attack—his body weakened, pain spreading from his chest made even breathing difficult.

Fortunately— The pain came fast and left just as quickly. It disappeared without a trace.

Covered in cold sweat, Cindy rested his forehead against the seat in front of him, gasping for breath, shaken.

“Damn it… what was that—”

He muttered, wondering if he was sick and should go straight to a hospital after landing.

But for some reason, a thought crept into his mind—maybe this had something to do with that strange child.

Yet when he lifted his head again, the aisle in the middle of the cabin was completely empty. The boy had vanished.

“Damn! Did I just run into a ghost?”

Cindy shuddered, remembering what the forensic doctor said—that the two hearts belonged to a minor child. His body went cold, and he trembled.

“This curse can spread to Muggles too.”

Dawn stared at Anubis, who had appeared behind the man, pierced his heart, and vanished again. He made the judgment in his mind.

Moreover— He realized that this curse spread almost too easily; just talking about something related to collective consciousness seemed enough.

It was too simple.

Dawn was sure there had to be other conditions restricting its spread, but that wasn’t something he needed to know right now.

There were eight hours until they reached New Zealand. With only this small number of people on the plane, it wouldn’t be enough to delay the curse for long.

So, Dawn decided to Apparate directly to New Zealand.

He had taken the plane to rest after leaving the tomb, and with the Quidditch match three days away, he had plenty of time.

But now, he needed to find enough people to spread the curse.

“Good thing Apparition isn’t limited to places you’ve been to before,” Dawn muttered, pulling out his wand—but before casting the spell, he let his wrist slowly drop.

He wondered if he should dispose of the hearts before leaving.

But if his heart and blood suddenly disappeared, such a bizarre incident might attract the attention of New Zealand’s top officials—and then the wizarding world.

Unless he cast Memory Charms on everyone and erased what happened on the plane. But since the maintenance crew had already called the police, inconsistent testimonies would still be suspicious.

And yet, if he left things as they were — he knew Muggle police wouldn’t find anything, but leaving chunks of his own flesh and blood behind didn’t sit well with him.

After weighing the options, dawn decided to dispose of the remains.

He’d be leaving New Zealand in three days anyway. Even if the Ministry of Magic came, it wouldn’t matter much.

Thinking this, Dawn cast Memory Charms on all fifty or so people in the cabin and burned his blood and the hearts that had been taken by the medical examiners.

Rather than having the hearts mysteriously disappear, it was easier for Muggles to accept that the alarm had been raised by mistake.

After finishing everything, Dawn disappeared from the plane with a soft pop.

New Zealand was slightly larger than Britain, but sparsely populated and without a wizarding school, so the wizarding population was extremely low.

Because of that, New Zealand’s magical newspapers were far more monotonous than the Daily Prophet—basically dedicated entirely to the Quidditch League.

Fortunately, this made things easier.

With just one newspaper, Dawn found the location of the Quidditch League without needing to ask around.

After scouting the area—

He began searching for the Macaw Team’s phoenix, while also heading to New Zealand’s most populated regions, spreading information about collective consciousness in various ways.

He handed out copied flyers and even used Memory Charms to implant the knowledge randomly into Muggles.

Though the Ministry employed staff in Muggle cities, under the veil of magical mist, wizards and ordinary people were worlds apart.

Besides, there was little risk of the curse spreading too widely drawing immediate attention.

These Muggles knew little about magic, and the curse only triggered once—at most they’d feel a strange pain in their heart.

While Dawn was copying more flyers with the Copying Charm and pasting them around— The plane from Egypt finally landed in New Zealand.

“Where’s the heart you reported?”

“We’re really sorry—it was a mistake on our part.”

“A mistake?”

The police, who had cordoned off the plane as soon as it landed, stared in disbelief at the maintenance staff bowing repeatedly and claiming they misreported due to seeing things.

The lead officer’s face darkened.

Just to be safe—

They questioned every passenger, searched the entire plane, inspected baggage, and even sprayed Prumino reagent.

But thanks to a good Scourgify Charm, no traces of blood remained for Muggle technology to detect.

Finding nothing, the New Zealand police reluctantly accepted the explanation and returned to the station after scolding the crew.

Soon—

Three days passed.

Perhaps expanding the curse really was effective—during Dawn’s time in New Zealand, Anubis did not appear again.

The Quidditch League opened as scheduled.

Dawn discovered Galleons could be used in New Zealand, so he skipped Gringotts, bought a ticket, and followed the crowd inside.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Quidditch stadium! This is the final match of the season—Montora Macaws versus the Scottish Hounds!”

“As we all know, over the past half-month, Montora Macaw’s Seeker, Emo Ken from Britain, has been wrapped in transfer rumors.”

“Will this give the Scottish Hounds a chance to win 1 point and secure a spot in the top eight of the playoffs?”

“Let’s wait and see!”

The commentator’s voice boomed across the arena through a magical amplification device.

The stands erupted into cheers. Banners rose into the air, and bursts of colorful fireworks exploded above.

Both teams had many supporters who booed at each other wildly. The atmosphere was electric.

Since Scotland was also an English-speaking country, Dawn could understand their insults perfectly.

“Shut up! What future does the Dog Team even have?! Look at your management’s idiotic decision to put a fresh graduate as goalkeeper! I bet he’ll cry today!”

“At least we have fresh blood! And you? Scruffy birds! Even your star player wants to transfer to Iceland instead of staying with you—does that tell you nothing?”

“FUCK! Say that again if you dare!”

“I’ll say it as many times as I want—you useless trash!”

Bang—

Dawn leaned back just in time to avoid the large man who was knocked out mid-fight from collapsing onto him.

From the sidelines, Dawn watched the entire progression—from insults to fists—with his own eyes and couldn’t help but think, Quidditch really does have a fervent atmosphere.

Come to think of it—

This was his first time sitting in the stands watching a match.

But seated between supporters with reddened faces screaming passionately, he couldn’t quite blend in.

Fortunately—

He didn’t have to wait long.

As the commentator finished the opening hype, a clear, ringing cry echoed in the stadium. Bright flames erupted mid-air, and from them emerged a bird with brilliant feathers.

The mascot of the Montora Macaws —the Phoenix, Spark.

Dawn immediately lifted the binoculars he bought from a Muggle shop and watched with unblinking eyes.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The Macaw fan who had just knocked a man out jumped to his feet, arms waving wildly, and shouted excitedly at Dawn:

“In 1854, during the final round of the Quidditch World Cup qualifiers, our Macaws were crushed by the Wollongong Warriors.”

“At that time, everyone but us supporters thought the Macaws were done for! We had never once beaten the Warriors in any public match!”

“But our players didn’t give up! They risked injury and death for every point!”

“In the end, their unyielding spirit drew the Phoenix! In its song, we caught the Snitch, turned the tables, and entered the World Cup for the first time!”

He was a rough, bearded man who swung fists at the slightest provocation—but as he recalled the history, his eyes turned red, voice trembling.

Even with his eyes fixed on the phoenix, just hearing that hoarse voice waver made Dawn twitch the corner of his eye.

But the man’s story sparked an idea in Dawn’s mind.

A phoenix drawn by unwavering collective spirit—was this also a type of magic born from collective consciousness?

Though the wizarding world still didn’t understand how phoenixes were born—

Given the Parrots’ experience, perhaps—determination, passion, and strong positive emotions could stir natural magic and summon a phoenix?

Dawn slowly drifted into thought.

In that moment, he realized—if he truly wished to study the influence of collective consciousness on natural magic, or even harness natural magic for himself—

He needed one essential condition.

Dawn needed his own voice—his own platform.

And a large number of people who would trust him unconditionally, even if what he said sounded absurd.

___________

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep