As it approaches midnight, Constantine and Harry Potter are walking down the street.

Both are wearing V-Vendetta uniforms and ceramic masks. The only difference is that Constantine is still smoking the cigarette that will never leave his hand.

"Several months of waiting and foreshadowing, finally ushered in the light before dawn."

Constantin breathed out a cloud of smoke, looking towards the closed doors on the street Apartments, those dark and dark residential rooms, said indifferently: "Potter, do you know? In the school city, our faculty and staff need to take ideological and political education courses."

"en?"

Harry was a little dazed, "You American transcenders still need to learn this thing? I think you only need to learn targeted blasting, infiltration assassination, and infiltration destruction."

"First, I am a thoroughbred British, and United States is just my place of work."

Constantin twitched his lips indifferent expression and said calmly: "Second, the rule of the European United States family Classes have been poisoning our education with the so-called "quality education" and "happy education" poisons. Our understanding of ideology and politics has been completely eroded by liberalism. As a result, a large group of Beatles or white leftists have been cultivated. .

In order for the faculty and tens of millions of students in the Academy City to become an ideal, ethical, cultural, and disciplined people in the new era, Mr. Li Ang specially introduced Ideological and political education courses give us a materialistic and objective cognition of modern history."

"Ah...um."

Harry Potter board The face was nodded, but fortunately, the ceramic mask was used as a barrier to keep Constantine from seeing his confused expression.

Fortunately, Constantine didn’t care. He coughed and said indifferently: “Mr. Li Ang told us that the masses of the people are a historical category, referring to those who have played a role in social history. People.

Furthermore, the masses of people are the main body of practice, the creator of history, and the working masses and working intellectuals who are engaged in the production of material materials and spiritual wealth."

Constantine stopped and said with a smile: "Do you think the people are great?"

Harry nodded said: "Great."

"No Wrong, the people have the ability to Change the Heaven and Switching the Earth, but they are often cowardly, humble, and numb when they have a retreat and can endure."

Kang Standing out take action, pointing to the residential buildings hidden in the dark, and whispered: "During the struggle, the people always think about who will win and help, but they don't know who will help and who will win."

"But to win, there is a price to pay." Harry whispered: "They may not be able to see the beauty of the revolutionary results, but they can see the pain of the price."

As if in response to what Harry said, Armored vehicles carrying armed soldiers approached from the corner of the street.

The soldiers with live ammunition sat on both sides of the carriage, and the loudspeakers on the roof of the dark green vehicle repeatedly shouted mechanically: "My fellow citizens of the British Empire, the curfew law exists to protect us.

Tonight, anyone who protests, incites, or deceives will be directly arrested and face trial.

The trial is decisive, decisive, and efficient. In the national interest In front of us, we need to put aside the past disputes and look forward together..."

Unfortunately, the sound of the horn gradually fades as the taillights disappear on the street corner.

Harry Potter stared blankly at the back of the armed vehicle, and said grimly: "The painful level of this price is probably beyond our expectations, Mr. Constantine."

"There has never been a savior, let alone a Divine Immortal emperor. For the people without extraordinary power or Gold finger, the price must be paid-after all, Life Fruit will never fall from the sky. "

Constantine interrupted the young wizard and said indifferently: "It's just that those moths that are not involved in the production of material materials and the production of spiritual wealth do not belong to the great category of the people.

Blood Race, is this kind of moth.

They live on top of the human society, pierce the skin with their long and narrow mouthparts, greedily drink and pour their blood.

Playing with political power and exercising the authority of the state apparatus, as time goes by, these moths who are close to the center of power mistakenly believe that oneself has become power itself.

They are wrong, power is forever It is in the hands of the seemingly weak and humble general public."

Constantin lowered his eyes, shaking off the soot, and the embers with faint red light melted into the sewage in the cracks between the bricks and stones.

"We have done all the preparations to tear the bloody wounds and expose the cruel and terrifying reality to the people."

Harry looked at the deadly houses , A little dazed and sad, said grimly: "But they didn't move, Mr. Constantine."

"..."

Constantine remained silent, and he looked around all Around, there are only two of them on the empty street.

Lonely and lonely.

There is no echo, no vast crowd, just the cool breeze blowing on the street.

"We failed?" Harry asked softly.

Constantine did not answer, but looked up towards the sparse full moon covered by clouds.

Harry Potter swallowed saliva and said, raised his cuffs and glanced at his watch, shook the head, "It's 11:45 now, they won't be coming."

Constantine still didn't answer, his haggard pupils seemed to be immersed in something, which seemed gentle and peaceful.

A sense of overwhelming frustration swept over Harry. The young wizard gritted his teeth and stared at the dead city, "I don’t blame them, Mr. Constantine, I saw it with my own eyes. Through the cruel truth, I know how much courage it takes to cross this hurdle."

He paused.

"The people have the right to be stupid." Harry repeated, sadly trying to remove the mask, "We failed."

"Wait."

Constantine squeezed his wrist, "Listen."

Harry frowned and listened.

Singing, distant and ethereal singing.

"...get up, hungry and cold slave."

"Get up, the suffering people of the whole world."

Harry stared wide-eyed , "The Internationale, this is the Internationale."

How is it possible? Since London’s emergency broadcasting system was hijacked that day, Prime Minister Ross has ordered all broadcasting to be dismantled and all TV signals strengthened. Where did this singing come from?

Harry ran forward involuntarily. He crossed the streets and waved his wand violently before he was about to hit the tall buildings, releasing the witchcraft, and letting oneself float in the air.

He saw the direction where the music came.

That is Whitehall, Whitehall guarded by countless troops.

Li Ang, wearing a V-Vendetta uniform, stood in front of the Capitol. He didn’t know when he got a huge searchlight and placed it in front of oneself, allowing the rays of light to shine on oneself, Humanoid shadows were cast on the wall of the Palace of Westminster.

The huge shadow is holding the microphone and singing with great emotion.

"The blood is full of enthusiasm, we must fight for the truth!"

"In the old world, let the slaves get up and get up!"

Chaos The porridge army immediately maintained order under the general's roar. The guns were turned, and the guns sprayed flames at Li Ang in front of the searchlight.

It is useless. The bullet cannot penetrate the barrier that Li Ang freely releases. The copper bullet that has been deprived of potential energy can only fall to the ground by ding dong and merge into a brass river.

"...This is the last fight, unite, until tomorrow."

The gunshots as the accompaniment can't stop Li Ang from using the Ether network to sprinkle the singing to London. In every corner, he agitated his mouth, rendering the notes into the most vivid red.

Constantin raised a smile at the corner of his mouth. He raised his arm and fell heavily, like a musician conducting a symphony orchestra on an international stage.

"We must regain the fruits of labor, let our thoughts break through the cage, quickly turn the fire to red, and hit the iron while it is hot to succeed."

"Who created the human world is our labor The masses. Everything belongs to the laborers, how can we tolerate parasites." Harry Potter saw it. He saw the lights of each house come on one by one, and countless people came out from the windows. Head up, looking in the direction of the singing.

They could hear the tragic gunfire, and they could hear the call of the song clearly.

The color of hesitation and struggle swayed on their faces, and Harry in the sky clenched his fists, digging deep into the flesh with his sharp nails.

However, the window closed after all.

Harry lowered his head, choked, and released the witchcraft to make oneself fall slowly.

"We failed..." He turned his head and said to Constantine.

"No, we succeeded." Constantine said to him.

The sound of footsteps rang from slight to loud.

Harry stared blankly at the countless faces emerging from the dark streets. Those London residents appeared out of the darkness wearing ceramic masks and draped heads.

Among them, there are parents whose children were taken away by Blood Race, victims who have been hurt by refugees in the Middle East, cynical independent youths, and skinny old men with inconvenient legs and feet.

They have an own life trajectory and an own story-no matter whether the story is boring or boring, its unique and unmatched attributes cannot be taken away.

At this moment, they took the initiative to abandon their own personal attributes, and completely integrated oneself into the broad definition of "collective".

To be truthful, to be free, to be fair!

They are the people, and the people are invincible.

Harry and Constantine quickly merged into the crowd. They were engulfed by the crowd and marched in the direction of the Capitol.

The singing continues.

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