Chapter 167: The Fool? A Madman!
Dylan's words hadn't even finished echoing.
Mr. Borgin's face had already turned ashen.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and his forehead was instantly covered in a fine sheen of sweat.
Several strands of hair, dampened by perspiration, clung to his somewhat greasy cheeks.
"Lord Fool! Don't kill me! I'm willing to dedicate all my wealth to you! I am absolutely your most loyal servant! I swear on Merlin's name!"
Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Are you Merlin's underpants? Still daring to swear on his name."
Mr. Borgin bent low, humble and obsequious, a fawning smile on his face. "If you wish, I am willing to be your underpants."
Dylan: (・Д・)!
With a twitch of his face, Dylan lowered his voice. "Hmph, look at this."
Dylan casually waved his left arm in the air.
The next moment, a glass bottle appeared steadily on the flat table beside him.
The bottle was ordinary in appearance, not large in size, and a thin layer of moisture condensed on its body. Without close inspection, it would be difficult to notice anything unusual.
In reality, this glass bottle had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
—After Professor Flitwick taught Dylan this spell, Dylan became very enthusiastic about turning all sorts of items into "spatial treasures."
—This was a small quirk of his, a kind of obsession.
"This…"
Mr. Borgin was momentarily stunned by the appearance of the bottle. His eyes fixed on it, then he cautiously glanced at Dylan.
"Is this… Acromantula venom?"
Dylan's expression was calm, and he nodded indifferently, confirming it.
He held the bottle in his hand and shook it slightly. The condensation gradually dispersed, and thick venom splashed around.
Upon receiving confirmation, Mr. Borgin's face flushed with excitement, his fear-induced paleness replaced by a hint of red, and a glint of greed sparked in his eyes.
He was not a fool—in fact, the mere fact that Tom had valued him enough to specifically come and work here was enough to indicate how wicked Mr. Borgin's past dealings were.
And to have managed such affairs for decades, up to the present…
To say that he maintained his shop by relying on Voldemort's influence wouldn't make sense.
Because before Voldemort rose to prominence, and now, with Voldemort's demise, he was still running the shop.
This alone spoke volumes.
Therefore, when he saw that Dylan didn't immediately raise his hand to cast an Unforgivable Curse on him, but instead produced a bottle of Acromantula venom, which they had traded before, Mr. Borgin instantly understood.
The other party hadn't come specifically to kill him!
In fact, just as he had said—he was here to reward him!
Upon realizing he wouldn't be killed, Mr. Borgin's feigned smile became a little more genuine.
"Lord Fool, this bottle is enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, isn't it? My goodness! How many pints must be in there?"
Mr. Borgin chuckled, rubbing his hands. "Let me guess, did you hunt a hundred Acromantulas?"
"No, to be precise, four hundred and forty-four."
Dylan's deep voice slowly emerged from beneath his mask and hood.
"Those foolish creatures always tried to attack me, so—I sent them to witness death."
Mr. Borgin was taken aback, then displayed an exaggerated expression.
"My goodness, almost five hundred Acromantulas!"
His gaze instantly darted back to the glass bottle in Dylan's hand.
"Then there must be nearly a thousand pints of venom in here…"
Dylan nodded slightly. "Eight hundred and eighty-eight pints. I made those Acromantulas continuously vomit venom until they were utterly depleted and died."
A strange curve appeared at the corner of his mouth. "So, each one brought me two pints of harvest."
The cruel words made Mr. Borgin, who was already involved in the illicit trade of dark magical artifacts, shiver.
He cautiously raised his eyes, looked at Dylan, and only after realizing that the other party genuinely had no intention of killing him, did he slightly relax.
Then he immediately spoke. "You are truly powerful! Even with my utmost effort, I can hardly subdue one of such ferocious creatures, yet you can effortlessly capture them with a mere flick of your hand! I truly admire you!"
Seeing this person, who remained a shallow follower and, despite his flamboyant flattery, wasn't even a fanatic, Dylan didn't bother wasting much breath on him.
"You can process this venom, and I want to see enough Galleons laid out before me."
Mr. Borgin opened his mouth. "You mean… you want me to help you sell this venom?"
Dylan glared. "Do you have any questions?"
Mr. Borgin immediately shook his head. "No, of course not—I'd be delighted to serve you—more than delighted."
"Hehehe…"
Mr. Borgin let out a dry laugh.
Dylan noticed he wasn't making any further moves and raised an eyebrow.
"What, I've already rewarded you. Where's your reciprocation?"
Mr. Borgin was somewhat dumbfounded.
Reciprocation?
You hand this venom to me, asking me to help you sell it, and it seems you don't plan to give me a commission.
The money from the sale won't belong to me, and you actually want me to while helping you do work Pay you?!
What kind of black-hearted capitalist is this?!
He should really be strung up on a lamppost!
He'd been running his shop for so many years and had never been stingy with his employees' wages!
Paying to work?
How utterly outrageous could a person be to even conceive such an idea?!
Mr. Borgin desperately wanted to get angry.
However, looking at Karlsars, who sat steadily in the chair—from their conversation, he didn't seem to be a particularly bloodthirsty person—but how could that be?
He cast Unforgivable Curses at will, killed people without hesitation, and toyed with Aurors as he pleased.
He could even control Acromantulas with dark magic, forcing them to vomit venom until they died!
Clearly, while the other party might not be inherently bloodthirsty, a closer look would reveal that this so-called Fool acted without any bottom line!
In his eyes, there was probably no concept of morality or good and evil whatsoever!
Perhaps for Karlsars, rules were simply meant to be broken.
Life was meant to be trampled upon!
A monstrous evil like him was probably even more dangerous than Voldemort was in his time!
Voldemort merely wanted to rule the world, and as long as his subordinates were loyal, Voldemort wouldn't kill them on a whim.
But this person was different; he didn't seem to care about others' loyalty, acting solely on his whims and moods!
When in a good mood, he might temporarily restrain his murderous impulses.
But once his interest waned, he would unleash a massacre!
Mr. Borgin certainly didn't believe that this Fool, after exchanging a few words with him and even giving him Acromantula venom to sell, who seemed normal and even willing to adhere to transactional rules, was actually a normal person.
That was absolutely impossible!
Right now, the other party was speaking to him amicably, but the eyes beneath the mask might already be fixated on some part of his body, ready to directly amputate him and turn him into fertilizer!
Thinking of this, Mr. Borgin's head drooped even lower.
"Lord Fool, this is my offering to you."
He fumbled in his pocket for a moment, took out a money bag, and respectfully presented it with both hands.
"These are all the Galleons I earned from selling the venom you brought last time. They're all here."
Dylan glanced at it, took it casually, and sensed its weight.
Roughly twenty thousand Galleons.
The Acromantula venom he had given last time couldn't have sold for that much.
Dylan nodded with satisfaction, accepted the money bag, casually placed the bottle of Acromantula venom aside, and slowly rose, walking towards the door.
"Well done. I will be watching you Burke, do not disappoint me the day the world is reshaped, I hope to see you standing behind me."
Mr. Borgin's body trembled again.
This fellow…
He hadn't placed some undetectable curse on him, had he?
Mr. Borgin felt like crying.
The words, to him, sounded disturbingly familiar…
Voldemort had said something similar to him back then, but what happened afterward?
Voldemort had directly placed a curse on him!
If he hadn't performed well later and done many things for Voldemort, finally getting the curse lifted, he would probably be dead now, along with that monstrous wizard!
And now this Fool was saying the same thing to him…
Mr. Borgin opened his mouth several times, wanting to call out to Karlsars, but he simply didn't dare.
"Could it be that he's found out I've been using his high-quality Acromantula venom to open up new avenues for myself?"
Probably not, right?
Finally, Dylan himself stopped, turning his head to look back, his eyes cold.
He saw Mr. Borgin drenched in sweat again.
Tsk.
The Burke family was, after all, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Although Mr. Borgin undoubtedly knew many dark arts, it was highly unlikely that he would delve into extreme dark magic like other Dark Wizards who sought power at the cost of their own bodies.
His body shouldn't be so frail.
Was he just getting old?
Indeed, wizards typically lived to about a hundred years old, rarely exceeding one hundred and fifty.
And Mr. Borgin, if he remembered correctly, must be close to a hundred by now, right?
Hmm, it seems he shouldn't continue to torment the elderly.
"Burke, do you acknowledge Delphini?"
Mr. Borgin was startled, completely unprepared for Karlsars to suddenly ask him a question just as he was leaving.
His mind spun frantically, a brainstorming session in full swing.
He quickly replied, "Acknowledge, of course I acknowledge her! Everyone else refuses to admit that Miss Delphini is from the Lestrange family, but I know she is!"
"As a distinguished pure-blood wizard, Miss Delphini is not only a member of the Lestrange family but also his daughter."
"That you can receive Miss Delphini's adoration and followership means you must be an even more powerful being than him! The Fool! Death! Long live!"
Dylan's cold gaze, like a venomous snake, slithered across Mr. Borgin's body.
It only withdrew after making the latter sweat profusely.
"Good. I am indeed interested in her identity. As for you… a member of a pure-blood family, since you were chosen by her and are willing to become my servant, you still have some use."
"The world will change soon. The future will only belong to the Fool who sings of death!"
With those words, Dylan's figure instantly vanished from the spot.
A gust of wind blew.
It brushed against Mr. Borgin's cheek.
The last, low voice drifted with it.
"Tell Delphini to leave all the Galleons with you. I will come for them."
After waiting for a moment, Mr. Borgin looked at the empty shop, yet he dared not relax in the slightest.
Who knew if there wasn't another pair of eyes watching him inside his shop!
He swallowed again.
Mr. Borgin stiffly shuffled to stand behind the counter.
He didn't dare to move.
However, he secretly felt a little relieved.
"Thank goodness! Even though the Ministry of Magic has been chasing him, the first time I saw him, I knew he would never be caught by those idiotic Aurors."
Since that was the case, and the other party had already visited once, he was bound to come again!
So, Mr. Borgin had stored all the Galleons he had recently acquired from transactions on his person.
Just in case.
In case this Karlsars came again.
To demand money from him.
And he had no money on him.
What if the other party took him directly to Gringotts to withdraw money?
Don't even mention that Gringotts surely had Karlsars's wanted poster too.
The Ministry of Magic's wanted poster was worth nothing!
Voldemort was also wanted every day before, and what came of it in the end?
Almost the entire Ministry of Magic defected!
What did this prove?
It proved one simple thing—only power is everything!
This Karlsars, to some extent, clearly possessed power no less than Voldemort's in his prime!
At least in terms of Unforgivable Curses, this Fool was certainly no inferior to the Dark Lord!
So, the other party taking him to Gringotts would probably be as leisurely as strolling in the park next to his house—completely at ease!
At that time, would all his hidden savings in Gringotts be snatched away by this Karlsars?
That was a no-brainer!
This Karlsars, when he last appeared, had already stated his demand—he wanted money!
And a lot of it!
Clearly, this Fool's true objective might actually be different from Voldemort's!
One was an idealist.
The other was a madman!
As for who the madman was…
Those who knew, knew.
Mr. Borgin looked left and right, seeing no further abnormalities in the shop, nor anyone suddenly appearing on a chair.
He relaxed his guard slightly, but he still didn't dare to do anything else, merely sitting there stiffly.
"But… with so much Acromantula venom, he didn't ask me for money?"
Mr. Borgin was somewhat puzzled.
Last time, the other party gave him a bottle of venom, which was essentially a purchase—he had already paid for it.
But today, the other party took all the Galleons he earned from selling the venom.
Since the other party was a maniac, he naturally couldn't say anything.
But this time, the new venom this Fool brought, he didn't demand any Galleons for it.
This made Mr. Borgin feel somewhat strange.
He thought and thought, but he couldn't figure out why.
It couldn't be that he was worried Mr. Borgin couldn't afford it, could it?
After much deliberation, Mr. Borgin could only attribute it to one thing.
This person was just a madman!
His actions were completely without order or logic!
However…
As time passed, Mr. Borgin's tension eased.
He rubbed the glass bottle the Fool had given him, many thoughts swirling in his mind.
"So much Acromantula venom, it can create more than just Galleons…"
He began to plan how to leverage this Acromantula venom to maximize his profits.
Not just to earn more Galleons so he could present a substantial amount the next time the other party arrived.
But also to earn himself some "hard-earned money" beyond Galleons!
Meanwhile.
After leaving Knockturn Alley, Dylan first exited the Leaky Cauldron, then transformed back into his original appearance and walked back.
He entered Diagon Alley through the archway entrance.
Dylan arrived at Gringotts.
As soon as he stepped through the main doors, the old goblin who had served him before immediately spotted him.
The goblin's wrinkled face instantly broke into a wide smile, and with agility that defied imagination, he scurried towards Dylan.
"Mr. Dylan, we've been waiting for you!"
The old goblin's voice was sharp yet warm, though not loud.
"Please, please, this way you're here to confirm and sign the contract, and inspect the house, aren't you?"
The old goblin said, extending a hand in a welcoming gesture.
His long, slender fingers danced nimbly in the air. At first glance, one might mistake him for performing some kind of welcome ceremony.
"Yes, Hogwarts is on holiday, so I finally have time to come and see my house."
Upon hearing this, the old goblin's eyes narrowed into slits, and his smile broadened even further.
"Holidays are good! Young wizards should relax during the holidays!"
"You think of coming to see your house as soon as holiday starts, truly attentive to your property. You'll surely have a bright future!"
The words seemed to carry a hint of sarcasm.
But Dylan knew that goblins truly considered valuing one's property a noble quality worthy of praise, so he didn't pay it much mind.
Under the goblin's enthusiastic guidance, Dylan passed through the spacious and brightly lit hall.
At that moment, goblins were busily scurrying between various counters, handling wizards' affairs.
Dylan even felt the crisp sound of coins clinking filling the air.
After a short while, Dylan was led by the old goblin into an elegantly decorated, enclosed room.
This room was completely different from the ordinary enclosed space he had been in before.
The walls were inlaid with gems, and thick carpets covered the floor; even with shoes on, it felt soft underfoot.
It was clearly much more exquisite and luxurious.
"It seems this old goblin is finally treating me as a distinguished guest, hehe~"
The room was enchanted with magic circles. As soon as he entered, Dylan felt a cool breeze it didn't feel stuffy despite being an enclosed room.
After sitting down, the old goblin rubbed his hands and took out the deed Dylan had purchased.
He reconfirmed with Dylan.
The old goblin flipped his hand and took out a stamp, pressing it onto the contract.
In an instant, a dazzling golden imprint flashed with light.
Though it was fleeting, the next moment, the contract lying flat on the table was ignited by an invisible force.
Flames spread from the edge of the imprint, rapidly consuming the entire paper.
In the blink of an eye, the entire contract was enveloped in fiercely burning golden flames.
As the flames danced, the contract did not turn to ash.
The golden fire seemed to be reshaping the contract, re-melting every texture and every character.
Finally, as the flames slowly converged and condensed, the contract transformed into a clear, crystalline sphere.
Dylan raised an eyebrow.
"Fidelius Charm? No, it's a different kind of spell… It's very similar to the spell on the contract I paid for earlier, but not entirely the same."
....
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