The attribute [E against magic power] had been strengthened to [D- against magic power].
As the enhancement began, Allen noticed subtle changes in his body. Looking down at the back of his hand, he saw that his pores had become more refined, and even the fine fuzz on his skin had disappeared.
Simply put, his skin had improved. His once fair but rough complexion now looked more hydrated and smooth. His charm had risen noticeably—even if this was just a side effect of magic power enhancement.
After reaching the D- level, while Allen still couldn't ignore D-level magic entirely, the damage was now more than halved. Combined with his body's innate magic resistance, the effects of D-level spells on him were greatly diminished—almost negligible.
After this round of strengthening, Allen still had 400 strengthening points remaining.
Although that number was far more than the single-digit crumbs he had grown used to in the past, it now felt meager compared to what he would need for future upgrades.[Magic Resistance D-] requires 4000[Physique Enhancement D-] requires 1000[Nerve Reflex Enhancement D-] requires 1000[Aura Cover D-] requires 500[Material Shuttle D-] requires 1000[Fire Dragon Breath E] requires 500[Basic Magic Mastery D-] requires 5000Clearly, as Allen progressed, every skill would demand more and more strengthening points.
But Allen wasn't worried. As long as he enjoyed eating, knew what to eat, and could eat well, it didn't matter how many points he needed. The path to strength, for him, lay through his stomach.
The next morning, Allen left the Leaky Cauldron full of energy. This time, he had a large sum of money in his pocket—Tom had given him the earnings from yesterday—so he felt more confident than before.
As for Black, he remained in the cage, still sound asleep.
The blood sausages Allen had sold the day before had brought in a total of 240 Galleons. Factoring in costs, Allen estimated that he could earn about 150 Galleons of profit from a single bottle of dragon blood.
More than 60% profit—easy money.
To avoid running into any trouble from opportunists who might be tempted by the 50,000 Galleons bounty on his head, Allen activated [Aura Masking].
It worked perfectly. No one noticed him on the street.
Some people walked right past him as if he were invisible. A few even almost bumped into him. Luckily, Allen's reflexes were quick, and he dodged each time.
When he arrived at Alberta's house, her attitude was much improved from last time. At least now she looked him in the eye and treated him like a regular customer.
This time, Alberta took out three bottles of dragon blood. According to her, that was all she had. If Allen wanted more, she'd have to go out hunting again.
"Could you bring something else back next time?" Allen asked. "Like dragon liver, tenderloin, something edible."
Alberta stared at him with a strange expression for a long moment before replying, "I don't kill fire dragons."
"Huh? You don't? Then how do you get the dragon blood?" Allen blinked, clearly confused.
"I knock them out and draw the blood. Simple as that." Alberta shrugged.
"If you've already knocked them out, why not kill them while you're at it?"
"Because it's illegal," Alberta said calmly.
This was ironic—Alberta was a known smuggler and, technically, a poacher.
But if she was to be believed, she wasn't exactly a typical poacher. After all, what poacher just drew a little blood and let the dragon live? Even conservation staff in the Muggle world drew more blood from animals during routine exams.
Alberta was a stubborn woman. No matter what Allen said, she wouldn't budge on her principles—just like when that mouse once tried to convince her to move into the alley and she flat-out refused.
People like her, Allen thought, were foolish in a way. They chose hardship in the name of some meaningless belief. Allen himself couldn't live that way, and honestly, he didn't really understand it—but he respected it.
People who could give up worldly desires were rare. They had the makings of saints. Allen couldn't do that. He wouldn't.
But here was this saintly woman, clearly strapped for cash.
It didn't add up. A person like Alberta shouldn't need to sneak into dragon conservation areas to siphon off blood illegally. A black market buyer would pay eighty Galleons per pint, easily. And if she didn't dilute it, she could even defraud someone on Counterfeit Street and make a huge profit.
In fact, the purchasing power of a Galleon was high. A person could live comfortably on just a dozen Galleons a month.
But "comfortable" was the last word anyone would use to describe Alberta's current state.
She clearly made decent money, but where was it all going?
Allen, puzzled, finally asked Alberta directly.
Her face—normally emotionless—twitched with pain.
"Nothing," she said.
Allen didn't believe it for a second. Her expression told a different story—like a man burdened by the weight of the past.
Then he remembered: Alberta had once mentioned she used to be a dragon tamer. Now she was struggling to make ends meet, living in poverty.
It wasn't hard for Allen to imagine a dramatic backstory.
Maybe Alberta had once fallen in love with another dragon tamer. Maybe she swore to protect the fire dragons forever. Maybe her lover was injured in a dragon attack and now lay in a coma. Maybe Alberta had been framed, lost her job, and now carried a mountain of debt.
The scenarios played out in Allen's head like scenes from a tragic Korean drama, or a revenge novel, or one of those cliched web fiction stories filled with heartbreak and betrayal.
Of course, Allen told himself, real life probably wasn't so melodramatic. This wasn't a bloody novel, after all.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Alberta was hiding something.
Allen glanced at the three precious bottles of dragon blood she'd handed over. The value of just these few items would allow a regular person to live comfortably for years. And yet, Alberta still lived modestly, stubbornly clinging to her principles.
"Why not just live easier?" Allen couldn't help but ask.
Alberta didn't respond. She simply turned and went back to organizing the jars in her cluttered shack.
There was something sacred in her silence. A kind of weight that only those who had seen and lost too much could carry.
Allen didn't press her any further.
He took his leave, dragon blood in hand.
On the way back, Allen thought about everything Alberta had said—and everything she hadn't.
He still didn't understand people like her. People who put morals over comfort. Who stayed true to some internal code even when the world offered them easier paths. Allen wasn't that type of person. He liked results. Profit. Comfort.
But even he had to admit: people like Alberta were rare. And, in some strange way, admirable.
Back at the Leaky Cauldron, Allen went over his strengthening menu once more. With only 400 points, he couldn't do much. He considered saving up for [Aura Cover D-] or maybe even [Material Shuttle D-].
But ultimately, Allen closed the menu.
He had other plans.
The dragon blood he just acquired would bring in over 450 Galleons, maybe more if diluted carefully. That would be nearly 300 Galleons in profit.
Enough for several days of steady strengthening.
The road ahead was still long, but Allen was confident. With Alberta supplying dragon blood and his own skills in the kitchen and marketplace, he would accumulate power faster than ever.
And next time, maybe he'd learn more about Alberta's past.
Because Allen had a feeling that her story was far from over.
[End of Chapter 39: Stubborn Alberta]
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