What? You're asking who Russell is?
Hagrid wants to know, too.
Hagrid leaned the long pole he used to prevent his little pets from attacking against the wall, stood next to William, and curiously pointed to the figure in the center of the field surrounded by two Explosive Snails—"What is that thing?"
The figure was only about waist-high for an average human, with rough, flesh-colored skin that was wrinkled, and a pair of ears that usually stood tall but now drooped powerlessly at the sides of its head.
Its sharp, large nose almost poked its emaciated chest—if it could still straighten up.
The goblin had no restraints on its hands and feet but was still "embedded" in a chair, unable to move. Its eyes were tightly shut, and each time the "bang bang" sound echoed, its thin body convulsed violently, making a fearful "oo oo" sound from its throat.
"Goblin."
William stated the obvious, and Hagrid thought so too.
"Hey, I obviously know it's a goblin, I just wanted to know, where did you... hey, is it from that batch of goblins?" Hagrid blinked, his eyes, like black beans, showing clear confusion, "But weren't they supposed to have disappeared..."
"Don't always believe the Prophet Daily, Hagrid—"
"But I saw it on TV."
"The news channel there is the same system as the Prophet Daily."
William expressed his understanding of the group of reporters under his wing. These guys really had no professional ethics and would say anything to grab attention—apart from investigating and collecting evidence, they were no different from brainless marketing accounts later on.
Thus, they were very useful.
Which is why William acquired the Prophet Daily.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Russell."
William stopped talking to Hagrid and addressed the goblin, blindfolded and trembling like an autumn leaf in the wind, his voice gentle as if greeting an old friend, "I'm sorry for inviting you to such a... 'enthusiastic' environment today."
"Now, Sagros and Incarlos."
William's voice remained calm, "Come, enhance our visitor's experience—let him deeply feel your sincerity." With that, he nodded his chin toward the large Explosive Snail still diligently smashing rocks.
Then, the larger elf... ahem, Explosive Snail moved, exhaling sulfurous hot air from its mouthparts.
Hagrid's expression became quite interesting—
He glanced at William, then at the Explosive Snail resembling a Hell's gatekeeper, and back at the shaking goblin in the pit, a look of astonishment crossing his huge face, "Isn't this a bit too much..."
"This goblin is Lancelot's second-in-command, and I clearly remember I killed it with my own hands years ago—well, it seems you didn't pay much attention in Professor Binns' class."
Seeing the confusion on Hagrid's face, William shook his head and explained differently, "This goblin has lived for a long time. It once killed more than twenty human wizards during the Goblin Rebellion—tortured them to death, you know, the goblin's physiological structure makes their charms... well, you don't know.
"... Anyway, you need to understand, not even Voldemort was this rampant initially."
"... Oh! Alright, I get it, William!"
The good comparison made Hagrid rub his hands as large as fans, his eyes squinting slightly, and he looked at the goblin with skepticism.
At the same time, the large Explosive Snail seemed to truly understand William's issued order—
Or, more likely, it was stimulated by the "scent" emitted by the goblin out of fear, considering its peanut-sized brain, understanding William's command was indeed difficult—its enormous body suddenly started, creating a foul wind, its heavy six legs leaving superficial ruts on the ground, approaching the bound goblin in the middle of the pit.
The terrifying, barbed claws almost touched the pallid nose of the goblin! The scorching breath mixed with the scent of sulfur sprayed onto the goblin's face. The giant snail, known as "big guy," lowered its head full of lumps and shells, its sharp, dagger-like mouthparts slightly opening and closing, a mere half-inch from the goblin's slender neck!
"Woo—woo—!!!"
Then, the goblin's fear reached its peak, its mouth releasing an unprecedented, muffled wail, its body jumping and struggling wildly like an electrified fish, trying to escape the foul stench at such close range, the chair legs creaking on the slippery mud, almost overturning from its struggle.
At that moment, William gently snapped his fingers.
The Explosive Snail that seemed about to bite down suddenly came to a halt, like a wind-up toy stopped by someone, suspended less than a finger's width from the goblin's throat, only the scorching breath continuing to puff onto the goblin's sweat-soaked forehead, its massive claws hovering in front of the goblin like guillotines ready to fall at any moment.
The fear didn't dissolve; it grew even more intense and sticky due to this 'pause' and the hovering lead of death, nearly breaking the goblin's nerves—Russell ceased his struggling, but his whole body continued to tremble uncontrollably, slumped in the chair like a melting wax figure.
"... Scared to death."
William observed through the glass for a moment and concluded.
"Dead?"