The old wizard didn't stay with Anton. Although he hadn't been here for ten years, the Dark wizard community wasn't that large, and he didn't want to run into old acquaintances in his ghostly form.
Anton understood and landed in a secluded area, burying his broomstick in the dirt and asking the old wizard to help watch over it.
"Hoo-hoo-hoo~" Anton let out a shrill, strange laugh, feeling the unfamiliar sound coming from his hoarse throat.
Then, picking up a dry tree trunk as thick as an adult's arm as a walking stick, he staggered towards the crypt's entrance.
His left hand, tucked into the loose sleeve of his wizard robe, tightly gripped his wand.
In such a dangerous place, Dark magic was clearly more intimidating than White magic.
As he walked, he cultivated the emotions required for the 'Displaced Soul Curse.'
He needed to ensure he could successfully cast the spell at any time, rather than habitually unleashing the Cruciatus Curse in excitement.
"This isn't a good habit!" the eccentric old man muttered, leaning against a tree trunk. "If I keep developing this reflex, I'm afraid I'll really end up in Azkaban."
At the same time, learning Animagus was a top priority for him.
If he were to end up in Azkaban, only Animagus could help him escape!
Turning a corner on a large rock, a cave entrance illuminated by an eerie purple light appeared before him, from which blaring heavy metal music emanated. Strange creatures of all shapes and sizes gathered from every corner and entered through the cave entrance.
A centaur with a missing arm, a goblin carrying a massive box, an old witch in a wheelchair pulled by a snake-headed dog...
and...
Anton's eyes narrowed slightly beneath his mask.
Snape!
Even though he was wearing a ghostly mask, his greasy, ramen-like hair was unmistakable.
"Hahaha," Anton chuckled softly, stumbling after Snape.
Walking down the cave's purple-lit corridor, which seemed to extend downward, a modest stone hall appeared before him.
A giant sat beside a narrow passage barely wide enough for one person to pass through. Anton, with a round pot on his back, couldn't lift his head very high. As he entered, he could only see the giant's gray thighs.
Standing before them was a wizard who looked somewhat normal, except for the heavy metal-style leather jacket he wore over his wizard robes, which made him look a little odd.
The wizard in the leather jacket rapped his wand against the wooden board beside him and shouted, "Welcome to the Snot Bubble Concert Hall."
Anton looked puzzled.
The old wizard was indeed unreliable, having actually introduced him to a cafe that had existed there for over a decade. Now that it had changed owners, he wondered if it would still be used for currency transactions.
The wizard in the leather jacket was still speaking loudly, "Tourists who are wandering around, come and get the black bouquet. Those who want to sell things and make transactions, please get the yellow bouquet. You need to pay a fee. We will ensure that those without the yellow bouquet cannot sell items and compete with you."
"Those who want to do non-physical transactions, please get the red bouquet. After entering, go to the bar to find Eric. He will provide you with a quiet and confidential place."
"Finally, members of Snot Bubble, please get the golden bouquet. You will get the best treatment inside."
Anton chuckled, "Hey boy, is this a forum?"
The wizard in the leather jacket was surprised and laughed, "Merlin's ripped underwear! Someone actually found it, and you are the first one."
He personally picked up a bouquet of golden bouquets and stuffed it into Anton's hand, "You will be our member from now on, congratulations!"
Then, he chuckled, "You will enter the bottom floor of our concert hall."
"Ha~ha!" Anton shrugged, "So I will also have good authority?"
After that, the two smiled knowingly.
Anton found it quite amusing. He had always assumed the wizarding world was filled with a stale, traditional atmosphere. It was already 1989, yet the British wizarding community seemed to be stuck in the last century.
As a programmer in his previous life, he felt an instant affinity for this guy.
"Hey, boy, I like you,"
Anton chuckled, staggering into the corridor.
The hall was packed, but very few held golden bouquets, including Snape.
Down another long flight of stairs, they finally entered an extremely spacious cavern that looked like it had been expanded from a natural lava tube.
The cavern wasn't perfectly flat, but rather had many uneven platforms. On the highest end, a band was blasting heavy metal.
At least Anton couldn't hear any rhythmic activity.
The crowd dispersed after entering, each going their own way. Anton continued to follow Snape, heading towards a corner.
Gradually, only the people holding golden bouquets remained.
A raised rock had been flattened to form a circular platform, and a long, raised lava rock streak served as chairs, forming a large circle around the platform.
Snape found a seat and sat down, quietly waiting for something.
Anton chose a seat further away, avoiding him.
Soon, the place filled up. A wizard in a golden leather jacket led another person onto the platform.
"Welcome to the Snot Bubble Music Hall's exquisite circular platform event," the wizard in the golden jacket pointed at the other person. "This is Pete, and he'll be our vendor at today's exquisite circular platform event."
With that, he snapped his fingers, and the bubble-like rock protrusion behind him suddenly vanished with a pop. In its place, a massive iron cage, covered with a massive black cloth, appeared.
He gestured to Pete, then gracefully jumped off the platform and sat on a small rock nearby.
Pete was a spirited young man with half-long blond hair, a thin face with a stubbled beard, and blue eyes nestled in sunken eye sockets.
The spirited young man rubbed his hands nervously and looked at the crowd. "I'm sure everyone's heard that rumor."
"That mysterious man isn't dead, but is recuperating in Albania, biding his time."
Everyone was in an uproar.
Many were whispering among themselves. One, a burly bearded man, stood up excitedly and pointed at the cage behind him. "Don't tell me this is..."
There were gasps all around.
Even the spirited young man, Pete, was startled. He shook his hands frantically, his voice cracking with panic. "How dare you say that! No, no!"
Anton heard countless sighs of relief.
He squinted his eyes at Snape, who was standing across from him, but unfortunately, the man looked lifeless and lifeless, as if nothing could affect his mood.
So Anton turned his gaze back to the circular platform. He knew this so-called Peter.
At that time, he had just traveled through time and didn't quite understand the old wizard's rules. He accidentally let a wizard prisoner who was being used for potion testing escape. The old wizard didn't blame him, but simply let Anton drink the potion that was originally meant for Peter.
The effect was remarkable, and Anton experienced what it felt like to be in ecstasy.
He vomited blood for three days, until he saw stars and was in a trance.
It was hard not to be impressed.
After not seeing him for two months, this little white mouse looked more human and energetic.
P.S.: Voldemort is not dead and is hiding in Albania. This is a rumor known to many people. Quirrell, Harry Potter's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in his first year, ran to Albania because of this rumor and "luckily" found Voldemort.