Azalea stared at him, her dislike for him practically solidifying into something tangible. She had spent the entire night pulling off this heist, only to be met with this attitude. She regretted everything. Why had she gotten involved with this organization in the first place? Every single person here was insufferable, stuck in their outdated ways, clinging to archaic beliefs while the world around them evolved. ‘If it weren’t for…’ She cut off the thought before it could form fully, biting back the bitterness rising in her chest. With an exasperated sigh, she crossed her arms. "You keep breaking into my house uninvited. If you don’t want them now, store them in your safe house. Unlike you, I actually have to maintain a cover at the Ministry, I can’t afford to have people snooping around my place."
Thunderbird, of course, ignored her completely. "You’re in no position to negotiate," he said flatly. "Your job is to complete the tasks I assign you. Besides, who knows if these alchemist’s trinkets will suddenly malfunction? I’m not about to risk my safe house for this junk."
Azalea’s fingers twitched in frustration. ‘Oh, but it’s fine if they destroy my house, right?’ She swallowed her anger, knowing full well there was no getting through to this self-important bastard. Instead, she settled for an exaggerated huff of annoyance, making no effort to hide her displeasure.
Thunderbird, completely unfazed, glanced down at the equipment before looking back at her. "This Wilson’s Arcane Alchemica you mentioned… its owner is that young alchemist, isn’t it?"
Azalea stilled, immediately catching onto where this was going. "Yes," she said cautiously. "Alex Wilson. He might be young, but his work is no joke. His alchemical equipment has already earned the Ministry’s approval, and thanks to him, their overall strength has grown significantly." Her thoughts flickered briefly to the events of the night. Alex’s security measures had been absurdly advanced, his protective enchantments alone were leagues ahead of what most wizards could craft.
Thunderbird let out a derisive snort. "Pathetic," he sneered. "These Ministry fools, relying on tools instead of skill. They’re nothing without their precious trinkets."
Azalea rolled her eyes. "You say that, and yet, those so-called trinkets are the reason your last operation failed. But sure, keep underestimating them. See how that works out for you."
Thunderbird ignored her jab. "These alchemy devices are a nuisance," he said. "We have some now, which is useful, but if they continue to spread, they’ll interfere with future operations."
Azalea felt a chill creep down her spine. "What are you getting at?" she asked warily.
Thunderbird's voice turned colder, more deliberate. "This alchemist, Alex. Can you get rid of him?"
Azalea stared at him, momentarily convinced she had misheard. "What?"
"You heard me." Thunderbird’s voice remained steady, laced with quiet ruthlessness. "Having him around is nothing but trouble. If he keeps working with the British Ministry, things will only get worse for us."
Azalea let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. "He’s a kid, Thunderbird. You’re seriously talking about eliminating a child?"
Thunderbird didn’t even hesitate. "That child has single-handedly strengthened the Ministry’s forces. If we let him continue, who knows what he’ll create next? Are you willing to sit back and watch as he arms our enemies?"
Azalea clenched her jaw. Even putting aside the obvious ethical dilemma, Thunderbird’s logic didn’t even make sense. "Even if you do kill him, what’s the point? His equipment is already in the Ministry’s hands. It won’t just disappear if he dies."
Thunderbird exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. "That’s not the issue. It’s because he’s young that he’s dangerous. If he’s capable of this much now, imagine what he’ll be capable of in a few years. Imagine what happens if he fully aligns himself with the Ministry." He took a slow step forward, voice lowering. "Don’t forget, Azalea, the Irish sector is critical to the club. We’re not here to make petty moves. We’re establishing a major stronghold. The last thing we need is some brilliant young alchemist making our lives harder."
Azalea remained silent, staring at him. She had always known Thunderbird was ruthless, but this was different. This wasn’t about eliminating a threat in the heat of battle or taking out an enemy combatant. This was calculated. Cold-blooded. A slow, creeping dread settled in her stomach.
Thunderbird continued, completely unfazed. "As for the existing alchemical devices? Simple. When we engage with Aurors, we destroy them. The most troublesome ones are the jammers, but all of this so-called advanced equipment has a shelf life. Eventually, it will fail. And when it does, these so-called ‘stronger’ Aurors will be weaker than before, because they’ll have forgotten how to rely on their own instincts."
Listening to Thunderbird’s cold, emotionless words, Azalea felt as though she had plunged into an ice-cold abyss. ‘Did these people truly see human lives as nothing more than disposable obstacles? Could they really trample over others so easily, all for their own gain?’ She clenched her fists. "I’d advise you to give up on that idea," she said sharply. "You might not know this, but Alex isn’t just a talented alchemist, he’s also a Wizard hero recognized by the Ministry of Magic. He’s not as weak as you think. You’d better be careful not to capsize in shallow water." Even as she said it, she knew it wouldn’t scare Thunderbird. But she still had to try.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, "Hahahahahaha!" Thunderbird burst into laughter, a deep, mocking sound that echoed through the room. "Wizard hero?" He repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. It sounded like he was struggling to breathe from laughing too hard. After a moment, he finally seemed to regain some composure, though his amusement was still evident. "You’re joking, right?" His mask may have been blank, but the scorn in his tone was unmistakable. "Do you seriously expect me to believe that a teenage alchemist is also some legendary Wizard? Tell me, Azalea, just how strong do you think a boy his age can be? His talent in alchemy might be exceptional, but no one can excel at everything. And that ‘Wizard hero’ title?" He sneered. "The Ministry hands those out like candy when it suits their political agenda."
Azalea’s fingers twitched around her wand. Thunderbird took a step forward, his voice laced with condescension. "Even if he was a real wizard hero, so what? What does that even mean? That he’s taken down a few Dark wizards? Please. You should be embarrassed to bring something so trivial up in front of me." His sneer deepened. "In fact, I prefer facing competent opponents over overrated nobodies like him. At least they provide some entertainment."
Thunderbird’s voice took on a thoughtful tone. "It’s unfortunate, really. Almost all of the truly worthy opponents in the British wizarding world are still locked away in Hogwarts. The only wizard who actually concerns me… is Dumbledore." His masked face tilted slightly. "As for the Ministry of Magic? Ha. The only people even remotely capable of a real fight are Moody and Scrimgeour. The rest? They’re no better than children playing pretend. Instead of worrying about me, you should be more concerned about your so-called colleagues."