With Maka's cautiousness, she naturally checked all the residential areas on the street where Fischer's house was located. Therefore, he was very sure that there was not even a single wizard staying in this community, and it was a pure Muggle community.
Of course, people all grow their own legs, so if a wizard comes here for some reason, it's not something worth making a fuss about.
But now there is a little guest with a very special background living in this family!
No matter what the reason was, Maka didn't want to be discovered by some caring people. This may be because of his unnecessary pity for an innocent child, or perhaps because the child's biological father will show up again sooner or later... Whether it is the former or the latter, he has reason to take responsibility to protect little Delphi, no Let her suffer unnecessary harm.
But it turned out that this time he was worried for nothing.
…
"Oh! The child's father, what happened just now?"
Just next door to Fisher's house, a Muggle woman was looking around with surprise and doubts in her heart. Yes, it was at that moment that she felt as if she was suddenly thrown into a cold lake, and the sounds of the entire world disappeared in an instant.
"have no idea… "
The man next to her also looked surprised, his brows furrowed tightly, but his expression was much calmer than that of his wife. He was seen cautiously approaching the door and window, as if listening to the sounds outside.
In this street and community, there are always some noisy ambient sounds on weekdays, either from the engines of cars passing by, or from children playing. Even at night, there are often chirping of insects and birds, and there is never a moment of silence.
But that's life, it's better to have movement than to be lifeless every day, isn't it
For example, just now, the moment of silence was really frightening. Although it didn't last long, it was enough to make an ordinary Muggle couple break out in a cold sweat - that kind of silence was really too abnormal.
But at this moment, a rapid and violent crash suddenly sounded from upstairs. The sound seemed like countless hands hitting the floor, which startled the Muggle woman again.
"Isn't this little bastard still honest?"
After the man heard this, a trace of anger suddenly appeared on his face. Without saying a word, he turned around suddenly and walked towards the stairs leading to the second floor.
"The child's father, just remember to talk, but don't do it again!" The woman quickly tried to persuade her, but she only received a cold snort from her man.
"If we don't let him improve his memory, will he be in trouble next time?"
The man went straight upstairs angrily. After a while, there was a knock on the door on the second floor, followed by the man's roar.
"You little bastard! You haven't repaired it enough just now, have you? What are you causing trouble again!"
After a few angry scoldings, the child's cry of pain followed, and there were also faint footsteps as the two men chased and fled.
The child's mother was listening downstairs, and several times she wanted to rush up to her husband and beg her husband to stop beating the child. But this time his son got into too much trouble - not only did the child break a fat man's leg, but he even made his parents almost call the police.
She knew that even if her husband did have a bad temper, spanking the child would indeed have a bad impact on the child, but she shouldn't stop him this time.
However, just when her face was filled with distress and tears filled her eyes, a heavy crash suddenly sounded from upstairs. The next second, she was stunned to see her man flying backwards and falling down the stairs, hitting the floor with a "bang".
"Oh - the child's father, what's wrong with you -" "Don't come over!"
But the man suddenly stopped his wife and got up from the ground with difficulty. He looked up at the stairs with bright eyes, his expression full of seriousness.
"... So that's it." He held the handrail of the stairs with one hand and supported his waist with the other. A trace of pain flashed across his face, "This little brat... you wait downstairs, don't come up."
After that, the man staggered up the stairs again.
There is a horizontal corridor in front of the stairs on the second floor. There are two bedrooms on the right hand side, and a utility room and a small bathroom on the left.
The child's small bedroom is at the end of the corridor on the right, and the bedroom door is ajar at the moment. You could see through the crack in the door that it was pitch black, and you couldn't see what was in the room at all.
"Little bastard, I know how you broke little James's leg... Humph, do you think it's not your fault? Let me tell you, you know it yourself whether this was an accident or not!"
The man leaned against the wall next to the door and spoke coldly, but there was no response from the child in the room. Obviously, the brat didn't want to admit his mistake - he was as stubborn as himself.
"Baby, I'm in -" the man gritted his teeth, "I'm warning you, if you dare to use that kind of power against me again, it won't be as simple as being without food!"
After saying that, he hesitated for a moment, then quickly shook his head and gently pushed open the bedroom door.
Fortunately, his threat seemed to have some effect. At least this time he was not levitated directly from the ground like before, and then directly lifted over the handrail of the corridor and carried downstairs.
"Little brat—" "Don't call me little brat! You named me!"
A slightly childish voice sounded from the dark bedroom, and the voice was also full of anger. Although I couldn't see the child's appearance, I could tell just by listening to his voice that he was not very old.
"Humph, okay?" the man said coldly, "Enns, open the curtains!"
"I hate the sun," the child's voice was equally cold, without a hint of good humor, "The switch of the chandelier is right at your hand, why don't you turn it on yourself?"
"Little bastard, are you feeling itchy again? With your attitude, you still want me to call you by your name? Do you deserve the name I gave you?"
The man cursed angrily, clenched his fist and smashed it on the wall next to him. After a few flickers in the bedroom, the small chandelier placed on the ceiling finally gave off a dazzling light, illuminating the entire room.
It can be seen that the chaos caused by the father and son chasing and escaping still remains in the room.
Half of the quilt was drooped on the carpet, wrinkled and messy; the pillow was thrown on a small desk, and the books and stationery on it were scattered everywhere; the worst thing was the one standing against the wall. The closet door was knocked crooked and hung sideways, and many of the clothes inside slipped out of the closet door.
And on that wrinkled bed, a little boy who was completely incompatible with strength was hugging his knees, leaning against the headboard with his neck curled up, his eyes looking directly at his father full of Stubborn.
This child looks to be about ten years old. He has short black and shiny hair that just covers his ears. The hair is tangled together and looks messy.
"Why, you still dare to glare at me?" The man glanced at him, "Do you think you have found out what's so great about you? Huh... How dare you break someone else's leg? Hurry up and give me everything you need to explain. I’ll make it clear!”
The boy heard the words, but did not open his mouth to argue, but he also seemed to have no intention of explaining what he had done. He just stared at his father with his childish and cold eyes without saying a word.
"Prefer not to say?"
When the man saw that his son was almost indifferent to his words, the anger in his heart suddenly boiled up again. He took a step towards the bed and clenched his right hand.
"You little brat, you just need to be dealt with!"
He was about to raise his fist as he spoke, but he didn't expect that his son would dare to fight him. The next moment, the slender and weak-looking arm stretched out one step ahead of him, and gently pushed towards the man.
Originally, the boy's palm was determined to only push into the air, but the fact was that his father was directly hit in the chest by an invisible force. The force was so strong that he flew backwards again and hit the wall of the room heavily.
"You - ahem -" the man slid from the wall to the floor. After struggling for a while, he managed to hold himself up and coughed a few times with some pain. "Little bastard, do you think these abilities of yours are... Who gave it to you? Ahem... Damn it!"
He said this in a low voice, obviously complaining to himself. But the room was very quiet now. Although his voice was soft, it was enough for the boy sitting on the bed to hear him.
"'Who do you think gave it to you'...what do you mean?" The child finally spoke again, his voice not loud but very clear.
The man raised his head in the corner, not showing any surprise at his son's abnormal abilities. Yes, since before, while he was full of anger, he had shown a different acceptance ability than ordinary Muggles. At this moment, he just squinted his eyes and stared at his son coldly, exactly the same as the child just now.
It can be seen from here that the black-haired boy's character was completely inherited from his violent father.
After a while, the man looked at his son from beginning to end before he stood up, leaning against the wall. There was still anger in his eyes, but there was more of a depth of memories and contemplation mixed in them.
"After a while, you will understand without me telling you." He said angrily, "Anyway, don't use it randomly because you think you have some different powers, otherwise I won't be able to save you - besides, what do you think? Do you really have complete control?"
When his father said this, the boy immediately flattened his mouth and stopped talking.