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Ukraine, Mykolaiv Shipyard.

After a long silence, the old factory director's slightly trembling voice finally broke the quiet.

"...This is treason."

Makarov closed the contract in front of him, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and said heavily.

The contract in front of him was not just an order to purchase warships. It also included Ukraine's grain statistics for the year, the average national consumption, reserves of light industrial products...

The situation was far more serious than he had imagined. This could not help but remind Makarov of the famine decades ago.

Even if he wasn't a professional macro analyst, he could clearly foresee the disaster that would occur in this land through these data, and the plight that the people living in this land would face.

In fact, this uneasy sign had already appeared in the city for some time - there were always long queues in front of bakeries, all kinds of livestock meat began to be scarce, and eggs and fish became luxuries for ordinary people.

And at this moment, a tempting offer from the devil was placed in front of him.

Makarov didn't know what the consequences of signing this contract would be, but he had to admit that, compared to cold money, this order with grain and hope was too difficult to refuse.

In fact, even just fulfilling her request could sway Makarov's heart.

"Treason? Perhaps. Provided that you define where your primary motherland is, and when the national leaders betray their people, whether you stand with the people or choose to stand with the bureaucrats."

"As for what you call treason, in my opinion, helping the Americans dismantle the Ulyanovsk, watching the politicians corrupted by capital let the country fall into famine... that is the real treason, isn't it?"

Aylena shrugged indifferently, her lake-blue eyes staring at the old man's face, and said softly.

"But don't worry, this is not a blackmail. Even if you ultimately reject our proposal, the Heavenly Mandate Group will still meet the grain consumption within the former Soviet Union as much as possible according to the market price of the former Soviet Union - of course, the wages paid to the workers will also be in the form of rubles and potatoes as specified in this supplementary contract."

"You will pay according to the content above no matter what?"

Makarov frowned, looking at the little girl in front of him with some astonishment, "Even if we dismantle it into scrap steel, will the aid and benefits attached to it still be honored?"

"That's right, I said, this is not a transaction."

Aylena nodded lightly and replied with a smile, "We have already paid the deposit for the Ulyanovsk to the Ukrainian government. As a reputable businessman, I never bother to sign any shady contracts. What you have in your hand is just a special dismantling plan, and an additional supplementary agreement."

"You don't mean to say, these..."

Makarov picked up the thick document and shook it, a strange look appearing on his face, "You went to great lengths to win this order, and your purpose in coming here today, is just to give us grain and money for no reason?"

"You can understand it that way, if the negotiations break down in the end."

Aylena thought for a moment, and spread her hands helplessly.

"We can't just stand by and watch you starve to death, besides, potatoes also have a shelf life. It's cost-effective for us to sell them or use them for order payments - well, maybe we'll earn a little less."

"...Who exactly are you? And what exactly do you want to get?"

Makarov pondered for a moment, took a deep breath, and stared intently into Aylena's eyes.

He had never seen such a negotiating style. A unilateral supplementary contract that would be honored no matter the outcome. This kind of lucky thing that was like a pie in the sky was not in line with a company that made profits in the capital market.

"Nothing! Apart from that big ship outside, there doesn't seem to be anything else we want. As for us..."

Aylena glanced at Makarov, paused for a second or two, and said meaningfully.

"You can think of us as a ghost, a ghost wandering over Europe."

"A ghost who wants to become a savior?"

Makarov's eyes flickered, and he repeated softly.

Phew... This time it's finally on the correct plot line.

Hearing Makarov's answer, Aylena breathed a sigh of relief, and made a gesture with her small hand behind her back, telling the old wizards who were preparing to cast the Obliviation Charm not to act rashly - at the same time, remember this save time node.

"No, you are wrong."

Aylena shook her head with a smile, cleared her throat, and softly hummed a slow melody.

"There has never been any savior, nor does it depend on God or Caesar..."

"To create human happiness, we rely entirely on ourselves..."

"We want to take back the fruits of labor, and let our thoughts break through the cage..."

As the girl uttered the first note, Makarov's eyes began to trance, and he couldn't help but hum along with the girl - this song, this melody... he was so familiar with it.

"Quickly get the furnace burning red, strike while the iron is hot to achieve results..."

"This is the final struggle, unite until tomorrow..."

"The Internationale will surely be realized..."

"This is the final struggle, unite until tomorrow..."

"The Internationale will surely be realized..."

After singing the Internationale for only a few minutes, the former Soviet old man was already in tears.

Makarov was silent for a moment, calmed his agitated emotions slightly, solemnly straightened his clothes, reopened the document in front of him, looked at it carefully for a few minutes, and shook his head regretfully.

"I'm sorry, even if I'm willing to help you complete it, it's impossible to hide it from everyone's sight."

The old man sighed, a look of reluctance appearing on his face.

"Give up, we can only save the construction drawings as much as possible. But the Ulyanovsk, it's too big. The satellites in the sky, the government inspectors, we can't possibly deceive them for too long, unless they are all blind..."

"Magic."

"Huh? What are you saying?" Makarov was slightly taken aback.

"I said, M-A-g-i-C, magic."

Aylena smiled slightly, took out her wand, and gently touched the clock on Makarov's desk, turning it into a miniature version of an aircraft carrier - well, a standard Nimitz-class aircraft carrier, which she had only seen in pictures in later generations.

"Of course it won't work with the power of the non-magical world alone, but if you add the power of magic, I think we can try it... Wait, I'm not an American spy, listen to my explanation... Forget it..."

Aylena sighed softly, ignoring the old man whose eyes were full of vigilance, turned her head to look at Grindelwald, stuck out her tongue quite helplessly, and begged with her hands clasped together.

"Grandpa, the very, very last time. Help me roll back to before the singing, I'll transform a metal owl next time."

"Obliviate!"

...

"A ghost who wants to become a savior?"

"No, you are wrong."

"There has never been any savior, nor does it depend on God or Caesar..."

"..."

...

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(Mommy!!)

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