"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 376: When There Is No Danger, Douglas Is the Greatest Danger
"Which tribe is it?"
Douglas finally spoke, his tone smooth as still water.
"Is it the Lunar Tide Council on Sardinia, or one of those mountain tribes with grazing contracts, trying to scrape by on their own? How are they structured internally? Who leads them? What's their relationship with the local Muggle communities—especially those herders bound by mountain contracts? How much pressure are they under from the Vatican's Order of Saint Benedict Wolf Hunters? And have they had any new run-ins with vampires lately?"
The barrage of precise questions left both Lorenzo and Isabella momentarily speechless.
Lorenzo hadn't expected Douglas to be so intimately familiar with the intricacies of Italy's werewolf situation—even the half-secret mountain contracts.
He managed a wry smile and shook his head. "Trust you to cut right to the heart of it, Douglas. I knew inviting you was the right move—though it does mean I can't hide a thing."
He paused, his expression growing grave.
"It's the Ashclaw Tribe—a small group operating in the central Apennines, about seventy strong. They once tried to survive by forging mountain contracts with local herders, trading furs and wild mountain produce for food and basic medicine. But lately, things have taken a sharp turn for the worse."
Isabella picked up the thread:
"The Ashclaw Tribe is led by Marco—a young but fiercely determined werewolf. They've spent years trying to survive between the Ministry, the Vatican, and the vampires. But about two weeks ago, the Order of Saint Benedict Wolf Hunters launched a surprise raid. The Vatican suspects they've been secretly researching ways to resist the Gene Silencing Curse.
They managed to drive off the witch-hunters, but paid a heavy price. Worse, one of their key strongholds was exposed."
Lupin jerked his head up, his face blanching in shock. "The Gene Silencing Curse? You mean—the one that can trap a werewolf in wolf form forever?"
His voice trembled ever so slightly. As a werewolf, he knew exactly what that meant.
A flicker of pity passed through Isabella's eyes as she nodded. "Yes. If you're cursed during the full moon, you're locked in that form—agonizingly so. Even if you're lucky enough to change back, your humanity erodes, until you're little more than a beast. It's a death sentence in all but name."
Lorenzo's tone was somber. "This curse has always been the Ministry and Vatican's last resort against the most defiant werewolves—kept strictly off the record. So when the Vatican claims it as justification, our hands are tied…"
Douglas's gaze turned razor-sharp. "Methods to resist the Gene Silencing Curse? That's… fascinating.
Lorenzo, you said the official invitation was just a front. What's the real stance of the Ministry's top brass—Minister Massimo Alberti, for instance? Tacit approval? Or is he completely in the dark, and you're acting alone?"
A fine sheen of sweat appeared on Lorenzo's brow. He cast another wary glance at the conference room door, as if expecting angry colleagues to burst in at any moment.
"Minister Alberti… he knows you're here. As for the deeper reasons, he's chosen… well, strategic ambiguity.
You know his family has ties to the Vatican cardinals—there's a lot he can't say or do openly. But he also realizes that if the werewolf situation spirals out of control, or if the Vatican's Adam Project actually succeeds, it would be catastrophic for the Italian wizarding world."
Douglas nodded, already piecing it together. Another classic Italian political web: the Ministry was hardly united. Some wanted to maintain the status quo, others hoped to break the deadlock with outside help. The Minister danced on a high wire, trying to balance every side and keep his own escape routes open.
And Lorenzo—by bringing him in now, and in this way—was clearly hoping to leverage his abilities to break the impasse, or achieve something the Ministry couldn't attempt directly.
He'd never underestimated this old friend. He hadn't come to Italy for the Ministry's sake—or for the British Ministry, for that matter. He'd come because the invitation was from Lorenzo Dino.
And now, hearing "Adam Project" from his lips again, Douglas knew exactly who his real opponent was this time.
He looked up, his gaze locking onto the map of Italy on the wall, zeroing in on a particular stretch of the central Apennines.
He asked, voice steady, "The Ashclaw Tribe—what exactly do they want from me?"
Lorenzo took a deep breath…
Douglas rolled his eyes, deadpan. "Seriously, Lorenzo, if you keep sucking in air like that, I'm going to suffocate."
Isabella burst out laughing.
Lupin couldn't help but smile, the tension in the room easing for a moment.
Lorenzo blinked, then managed a rueful grin. He reached into his coat and produced a tightly wrapped oilcloth bundle—a small scroll—which he handed to Douglas.
"This came through secret channels, addressed to you by name. Read it—you'll understand."
His hand trembled slightly as he passed it over, the risk he was taking all too clear.
Douglas accepted the scroll. It was heavier than it looked, still carrying the scent of mountain earth and a faint trace of herbs.
He untied the hemp cord and unrolled the parchment.
The handwriting was rough but bold, the ink mixed with some kind of plant extract. The letter was short, but every word radiated urgency and sincerity.
It was from Marco, the Ashclaw Tribe's leader.
He began by expressing his admiration and gratitude for Douglas's improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion, calling him "a beacon in the darkness, hope for the desperate."
He then described the tribe's dire straits: Relentless pursuit by the Order of Saint Benedict Wolf Hunters had severed nearly all their mountain contracts. The wounded went untreated; food and medicine were almost gone. Worse still, the Vatican had apparently established a secret experimental site in the nearby mountains, linked to the infamous Adam Project. Some tribe members had disappeared—later found as mutilated corpses, twisted beyond recognition, test subjects for some dark magic.
At the end, Marco wrote:
"Mr. Holmes, we don't dare hope you can lead us out of this endless night. We only pray for your wisdom—to show us a path to survival.
We've heard of your past in Italy, and know you are not only a great potion master, but a sage who understands the human heart.
If you are willing to help, the Ashclaw Tribe will offer our most precious Moonstone Heart as thanks, and remember your kindness for all eternity."
"Moonstone Heart?" Isabella gasped softly. "That's the sacred relic of the werewolf tribes—legend says it holds the purest lunar magic, able to strengthen werewolves and even soothe the madness of the full moon. For them to offer it…?"
Lupin's expression grew grave. He knew: for a tribe to offer up such a treasure, they had to be truly desperate.
But what troubled Lupin even more was the mention of the Adam Project. He'd noticed that when Marco brought it up, both Lorenzo and Isabella had gone rigid, and even Douglas's tapping fingers had stilled for an instant.
They clearly all knew more than they were saying—yet not one of them volunteered a single detail.
Was it because he was an outsider?
Lupin sighed inwardly, as if replenishing the air that Lorenzo had just sucked out of the room.
No wonder, before leaving, Padfoot had warned him: When there's no danger, Douglas is the greatest danger of all.
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