Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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"Welcome aboard the International Coach Express operated by the Phantom Troupe. Esteemed Platinum VIPs: Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Fleur Delacour, your reserved Night Stallion Express from Paris to Shattered Leaf City is now ready. Please follow me to the Number 17 docking point to board your train. This journey is expected to take approximately one hour and twenty minutes. We have provided dedicated transportation services, so you can relax and be directly escorted to the immigration channels in Shattered Leaf City."

The attendant, leading Harry and Fleur, introduced the service to them. Although this was Harry's first time using such a mode of transportation, being financially comfortable, he had eagerly preloaded a thousand Galleons onto his membership card. With the gleaming little addition of golden benefits, the comfort of the trip was elevated even further.

The floor was an automated high-speed conveyor belt, allowing them to breeze through the long corridor in no time. The door marked with the number "17" silently slid open as they reached it. In the soft, bright lighting, a vintage palace-style carriage came into view, pulled by six Night Stallions. These well-fed and tame winged horses had been specially taken care of, while a well-dressed coachman stood next to the stairs, slightly bowing as they approached and opening the carriage door for them.

Inside, the carriage, measuring just four meters long, three meters high, and two meters wide, felt surprisingly spacious. There were balconies on both sides of the carriage for sightseeing, yet from the outside, no trace of the balconies was visible. Beside the sofa inside, a crystal screen caught Harry's attention. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a central control panel. The alchemical matrix inside the carriage was so advanced that it could make the entire room transparent, offering a truly surreal experience, as if one were flying freely through the clouds.

At fifty Galleons, the ticket was well worth it. Harry even thought about asking Nicodemus to custom-make one for him. But with the old man's temper, if he knew Harry wanted him to create something like this, he wouldn't hesitate to thwack Harry over the head with his wand.

Once Harry and Fleur boarded the carriage, a bell rang, and the Night Stallions slowly pulled the carriage out of its dock. Then, at a steady yet rapid pace, they began to accelerate. Sitting inside, the two only saw the scenery on either side blur by. Soon after, the carriage began to climb rapidly at a steep 45-degree angle. However, the sharp ascent did not affect the two passengers in the slightest.

There was no sensation of vibration, let alone any instability that would normally accompany such a steep climb.

"I've never flown this high before!" Fleur exclaimed excitedly, trotting over to the window of the balcony. Though the wind was howling outside, the open window didn't let the gale rush in. In fact, when Fleur stretched her hand out, the wind was mild, not forceful at all. She stood on her toes and leaned slightly out of the carriage to look down. Even with her sharp vision, she could only see tiny moving dots below—those were the pedestrians in the city beneath them.

"Harry, come here! We've flown up to the sky above my house!"

"Be careful you don't fall out."

"Would you jump down and catch me if I did?"

"How about I catch you right before you hit the ground?"

"Hmph, if that happens, I'll go home by myself, and you'll be all alone!"

"That can't happen." Harry walked over, took her soft hand, and said, "Now that you're with me, you can't run away."

Once the novelty wore off, Fleur no longer leaned out of the window to gaze below. Her hair, previously tousled by the wind, had somehow not turned frizzy. A quick flick of her hand smoothed it back into place.

"Harry, what are you looking at?" Fleur asked, noticing that Harry was tapping away at the crystal panel, clearly absorbed in whatever was displayed there.

"Let's watch a movie! It's a holographic 3D magic projection. I've been in the magical world for more than two years, and it's the first time I've realized they even have movies here. Fred and George were planning to make a small film to make some money, but I didn't expect it to already exist."

As Harry spoke, the room, previously well-lit, gradually darkened. The curtains on the viewing windows were drawn, and Fleur leaned in close to Harry, peering at the only light in the room—the crystal screen, which emitted a soft white glow. "Don't you have them in England? I remember movies being around six or seven years ago. But back then, there weren't many. My family's projector has been gathering dust in the attic for ages."

"Yeah, we don't have them in England," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Even though it's only been about fifteen years, it feels like England's hundreds of years behind the rest of the magical world."

"By the way, have you seen this film?"

Harry pointed to a movie title that seemed somewhat familiar. He couldn't remember where he had seen or heard it before, but it gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Alchemy Master of the Sacred Stigmata?" Fleur bit her lip, thinking, then shook her head. "No, it might be a new release from the last couple of years. Do you want to watch it together?"

"No!" Harry suddenly snapped, his memory clicking into place. He shook his head vigorously. "Even if it's just the name that's similar, I really hope the plot isn't the same..." He shuddered. "That'd get 404-ed."

"404?" Fleur asked, puzzled.

"It's a kind of dimensional attack, one that leaves no trace of you."

Harry said this seriously, his finger randomly tapping the screen as he selected a movie. But as the projection lit up and the title appeared, Harry froze. A burst of blood seemed to lodge in his throat, and he couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.

"What the heck is a little black mermaid?!"

"Refund! Now!"

Harry, his face darkened, almost slammed his hand against the crystal screen, hitting the pause and exit buttons in frustration.

"This cursed carriage... I'll never ride it again. I just wish I could unsee that awful thing."

The journey lasted a quick hour and a half. Though they didn't manage to watch the movie, the trip wasn't dull. As they neared their destination, the bell inside the carriage rang once more.

Looking out from the observation deck, they were greeted by a vast expanse of blue ocean.

This was the Caspian Sea, the world's largest saltwater lake. The carriage now skimmed just above the surface, speeding along, and the air carried a distinct salty tang. Compared to the real sea, this large lake, called the Caspian, was still a little different.

However, what truly stunned Harry wasn't the endless blue of the sea, but the pale yellow curtain rising from the horizon in the distance. It reached high into the sky, fading only at the very top. Harry's keen eyes caught the invisible magic that ordinary people couldn't see—the towering wall was the magical wonder known as Changheng, a marvel created by the wizards of the Taishi Empire.

It had taken the Empire centuries to build this monumental structure, and the wealth spent on it could only be described as astronomical.

The colossal border defense wall, standing taller than anything they had seen along the way, left Harry in awe. Sadly, only he could see it clearly. Despite thinking hard, Harry couldn't find the words to describe it well enough for Furong.

The Nightmare Carriage didn't cross the border; it stopped about ten kilometers from Changheng, at a division of the Phantom Troupe. As soon as Harry stepped off the carriage, a sleek black car, understated yet luxurious, pulled up in front of them.

There was no need to guess—the car wasn't a Muggle electric vehicle, as the delicate electronics would never last in a magic-infused environment. In the magical world, all vehicles were powered by pure mechanical energy, with features like assisted driving relying on alchemical matrices. These magical vehicles were even more environmentally friendly than electric ones, requiring no charging. Instead, the driver would channel their magic into the alchemical engine, making the vehicle run.

It was said that if wizards wanted, they could create their own steampunk gadgets, as long as they avoided modern high-tech, because magic allowed for endless creative possibilities. Unfortunately, these alchemical matrices were expensive—anything involving alchemy never came cheap, and magic materials always retained a high price. While Abyssal Mines provided a steady supply of magical metals and minerals, it was a delicate matter to manage the Abyss; impatience wouldn't increase output.

They had now entered Taishi Empire territory, but Changheng was located just within the border, built not directly along it but rather more centrally. Harry wasn't entirely sure, but he had heard that building Changheng required tapping into certain ley lines, according to Feng Shui principles.

After Harry and Furong were escorted to the wizard entry checkpoint near the base of Changheng, the Phantom Troupe's service was officially complete. From here on, they didn't need any further help. The checkpoint had signs in multiple languages, and Harry followed the directions to complete the necessary registration. The customs process, however, was much more complex.

Wizards had a magical advantage when it came to concealing contraband. With space-expanding spells, it wasn't rare for a trunk to hold a whole zoo. Even a small suitcase could be expanded to fifty square meters, which meant many wizards had a natural advantage when it came to sneaking in forbidden items.

As a law-abiding citizen, Harry had nothing to hide. His black dragon-hide backpack had already been thoroughly checked and was packed with mostly Furong's new clothes, some snacks, kitchen supplies, and a variety of potions that could keep someone busy for generations.

The line to enter was longer than Harry had expected. There were more than just human wizards waiting in line. Harry could clearly spot a vampire ahead of him—the unmistakable sign being the four black alchemical golems carrying a coffin.

Although vampires wouldn't disintegrate in sunlight, they still didn't like being out during the day. They were allergic to ultraviolet light, causing their skin to break out in itchy red spots and rashes. The more pure-blooded the vampire, the more severe the allergic reaction. The vampire ahead of Harry had only been out of the coffin for three minutes, yet he was already scratching in discomfort. Despite his misery, the vampire showed no signs of anger, patiently waiting for his full inspection.

If vampires were a fairly common magical species, encountering a giant in a crowd was unusual. At least three meters tall, the giant's forearms were wider than an adult's waist. Their potato-like heads were a telltale feature. Of course, there was also the disgusting stench they carried—decades of unwashed body odor and food remnants mixed with sweat and dried excrement, forming a revolting, nearly impervious armor. Though it might have some magical properties, it was mostly just gross.

Fortunately, the giant in front of them wasn't a full-blooded one. Despite his three-meter-tall frame, he didn't smell like a typical giant. His iron-gray skin was smooth and wrinkled, his sparse, needle-like hair covering his body. He wore only a leather loincloth, and around his wrist was a large, golden bracelet, which Harry suspected might be some kind of specialized wand.

Harry had seen wizards in Kijaddle using fishing guns and net guns, so he could guess that the giant's bracelet might work similarly. After all, Hagrid wielded a 25mm heavy explosive gun, and weapons used by individuals that large were bound to be different. After all, no one expected them to fire a tiny handgun with their sausage-sized fingers.

As Harry and Furong chatted and observed the diverse crowd of magical travelers, an explosive sound from the next entry lane shattered the calm. Screams of panic and smoke from the explosion filled the air, bringing an odd odor to the crowd.

"Damn! Which idiot smuggled in a Blast-ended Skrewt horn?!"

A booming voice from behind Harry exploded with fury. A large, furry bear-man was cursing loudly in a heavy accent.

The bear-man wasn't one of the northern species. He stood at least 2.5 meters tall, covered in long black fur, with a large belly and a humanoid shape, making him a "half-beastman."

"Look at you, look at you!" He spotted Harry's gaze and glared menacingly, "Quick, use a bubble charm to protect your head, don't you know it's poisonous?!"

With that, he drew his wand—an oddly short and sawed-off shotgun—and fired it straight at his head.

(End of Chapter)