Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

Silby spoke, but Hoffa's face gradually paled. He didn't know Franco at all, and he didn't know any unpopular things like Spanish history.

But Hoffa didn't expect that the place he was in was actually an Axis country.

And the distance between the most famous demon king Adolf Hitler and himself is probably less than 1 kilometer.

If you are lucky, you may be able to meet him on the street.

On the streets of Spain, Hoffa swallowed his saliva and looked at the fan girls who came and went around. For a while, he felt chilly.

This... is too real.

Gululu...

Gululu...

However, the soreness in his stomach brought Hoffa back to reality. He hadn't eaten for more than 30 hours. Regardless of the axis or the alliance, the meal is always to be eaten.

Should I steal some food invisible? Hoffa thought.

However, in the next second he rejected the idea.

Don't want to steal food.

He looked down at Silby, and Silby said: "This is the truth. If you still speak English, I'm afraid we will be beaten to death if we haven't starved to death."

"Don't you speak Spanish? Your family..."

"I won't, I just came home from here through Spain."

"Does Osivia say it?" Hoffa said glumly.

"Hey, I hired you but you. Besides, it's still unknown whether she can speak Spanish or not. If she can't, I'm afraid that she will run into a wall if she is outside."

During the brief exchanges between him and Silby, everyone around him looked at him with vigilance and dissatisfaction. Moreover, within the scope of his spiritual force field, he also sensed the traces of one or two adult wizards.

Hoffa let out a long sigh, closed his mouth, and walked along the streets of Spain while pushing Silby's wheelchair.

Silby is right, this country has indeed just ended the civil war with the help of the Communist Party.

On the buildings on both sides of the city, brand new posters are posted in many places.

The head of state with a mustache smiled like a flower on the poster and held another man's hand. Don't think about it, that man must be Franco.

Not only that, from time to time there are soldiers driving past in an old-fashioned green jeep. The red **** is printed on the jeep, which is provided by Germany.

As the jeep drove, a group of young men waved to them excitedly.

Obviously, in this era, the Communist Party is just an ordinary political party. These people still don't know what blood and terror they will bring to this planet in the future.

Hoffa watched the row of German jeeps leave.

Under the influence of hunger, his thinking began to become extremely active. An inexplicable idea floated into his brain.

In fact, although he does not speak German, he is quite familiar with German wizards.

If Hoffa were to describe Schmidt Rutrov, it would probably be-I know everything turned into ashes.

Not to mention his dress, he remembers a few buckles on his clothes.

Although it is a wizard's uniform, it is not much different from the dress of the German officers on the street. The only difference is that the hats of the two are different.

Looking at the delicacies in the shop window, my stomach was sore, that sudden thoughts grew like a virus.

Finding an empty corner, Hoffa pushed Silby into an alley behind the clothes shop. In the alley, he held his wand and touched himself a little bit.

Under the effect of Transfiguration, his clothes became the same standard robes as Schmidt Lutrov, black and strict, and there was a sleeve on the next door.

Hoffa turned around the window of the clothing store and nodded in satisfaction. Then, he also knocked on Silby, so that the blanket on Silby's body and the robes of the German wizard became the standard robes.

Not only that, he also knocked on the wheelchair and drew a * character on the wheelchair.

Silby was surprised. He looked at Hoffa: "The wizard is really convenient."

Hoffa looked at himself in the closet next door, and after thinking about it, he always felt that he was still a little too immature. So he took out a tissue from Silby's wheelchair, turned it into a small square black wool, and stuck it on his upper lip.

It seemed a little funny at once, and Silby leaned forward with a smile.

It just so happened that a few soldiers with guns passed by on the street greeted everywhere. Hoffa quickly slapped Silby and told him to shut up.

The wand became a military cap in Hoffa's hands.

Hoffa put his hat on his head, lowered his head, the brim of the hat covered most of his face.

Silby in the wheelchair shut up, but his face was flushed.

When Hoffa walked out of the alley, he became a dwarf military officer, and everyone around him looked in awe of him.

The changed Hoffa went into a Spanish restaurant, which also had an anti-British sign, and it looked a bit more advanced than the previous one.

But this time, before Hoffa could walk to the door, a waiter saw the two people outside.

His face changed, and he rushed all the way in an instant, opened the door, and raised his hand at attention.

"Heil　 Hitler!!"

Hoffa was taken aback, but somehow he also watched a movie. Then he quickly raised his right hand habitually, parroting.

"Heil　 Hitler."

This time, it was the opponent's turn to froze. The waiter looked at his hand in wonder, as if wondering something, but then he let go of his doubts and greeted Hoffa into the restaurant with a grin.

This restaurant is much more upscale than the fast food restaurant just now, although the outside decoration is ordinary. But the inside is magnificent, with a transparent crystal chandelier hanging on the top.

As soon as they came in, a small half of the young people here stood up and raised their hands to Hoffa enthusiastically. Heil　Hitler's voice is endless.

Hoffa was a little embarrassed, he also raised his right hand, and went back one by one. But every time he came back, someone looked at him with a puzzled expression.

In the wheelchair, Silby was going crazy, his lips squirming to remind Hoffa: "Left hand...Left hand!"

He spoke too softly, Hoffa didn't hear him, and he still stretched out his right hand.

The waiter respectfully pulled back the chair, bent over to let Hoffa sit down, and presented the menu with both hands.

At first glance at the menu, Hoffa's belly screamed even harder.

But he learned well this time. He didn't speak at all. Instead, he held up his chest, pretending to be pointing around on the menu, and ordered all the dishes with the highest price tag.

The waiter smiled like a flower, remembering constantly.

When Hoffa finished ordering and the waiter left, Silby widened his eyes and shouted, "Are you European?"

Hoffa: "Ah, what?"

"Left hand, what you just used was an ancient Roman military salute, fool! You will be shot if you meet a real German officer on the street!"

"Left hand..."

Hoffa looked at his hand, his face paler.

Co-author: Did you keep raising your right hand just now? No wonder those people always look weird when they look at them.

Just as he was about to speak, the waiter came back. Not only did he come back, but he also brought back a chef with a smile on his face.

The chef blushed with a thick neck, nodded and said something beside him for a long time.

But Hoffa couldn't understand a word, but he lowered the brim of his hat and tapped his fingers on the tabletop, looking impatient.

So the chef turned to Silby in a grotesque manner.

In terms of pretending to be impatient, the French teenager is much more adept than Hoffa. He was ill and sideways his head, but his brows were slightly frowned, and the whole person exuded the aura of superior superiors. A posture that I don't want to care about you.

The chef stopped talking immediately, took the wine bottle from a waitress, opened it respectfully for the two of them, and then stepped back.

He is here to deliver wine.

Hoffa was cold on the surface, and couldn't help laughing inside, looking at the respectful appearance of these people. It is estimated that no one would dare to say anything even if it was a King's meal by himself.

Soon, the waiter shuttled between.

The dishes were presented one by one.

Paella with bright red and green colors, a whole leg of lamb roasted with coals, tender and tender sardines, sardines stuffed with vinegar, viscous and bubbling Madrid broth, and thin slices of Iberian ham , Galician octopus slices grilled in a copper pot, and Spanish cold soup garnished with strawberries and tomatoes in a transparent cup...

If he hadn't taken into account his status as a "German officer", Hoffa would probably turn his wand into chopsticks and rush on to eat and chew.

However, due to his identity, Hoffa tremblingly picked up the knife and fork, but Sven quickly sent it to his mouth. After eating this food all night hungry, Hoffa felt that he was in heaven at the moment.

On the other half of the table, Silby kept coughing, squeezing a voice through his teeth.

"Feed me quickly, don't worry about eating by yourself...!!!"

Due to his employer status, Hoffa forks the food with his left hand to deliver it to his mouth, and forks the food with his right hand to deliver it to Silby's mouth.

The two cooperated well and were in good agreement.

After two visits, most of the food on the table quickly disappeared.

However, just as Hoffa stuffed a whole piece of shrimp into Silby's mouth, he suddenly groaned and his head trembled.

Hoffa thought he was choking, so he just went in and handed him the water glass next to him, but he shook his head abruptly and stared at Hoffa's back.

Hoffa puffed his cheeks and asked, "What's the matter?"

Silby: "After...behind."

Hoffa turned his head and his eyes widened rapidly.

Squeak! !

With a few grumpy tires rubbing.

A black vintage car stopped at the entrance of the hotel, followed by three green jeeps full of soldiers.

The car stopped and the door opened.

Three tall men wearing black military uniforms, black high-top leather boots, two silver stripes on their chests and a white **** on their arms pushed open the glass door and walked in with their heads high.

Click!

The fork in his hand fell into the plate, and Hoffa felt a little dizzy in his head.

Guy...Gestapo! ?