"Now isn't it just poverty for me?" Ian temporarily placed his money bag into Aurora's robe pocket, demonstrating to the German girl what it means to be brazen.
"..."
Aurora still found herself somewhat perplexed by Ian's behavior.
Just as she pondered what she intended to say,
"It's that guy!"
Ian saw his target, whom he had been watching all along, stand up and leave. He quickly grabbed Aurora to follow him outside; a wizard fully covered in a black robe was clearly up to no good. This guy just sold an illegal item to a wizard, some kind of potion made from the precious blood of several Fantastic Beasts.
Ian had read the book sent by Qiu Zhang, "Fantastic Beasts Distribution and Sentencing Standards." If the Ministry of Magic caught the black market merchant selling blood products, the minimum sentence would be a lifetime experience in Azkaban.
"Master... that little wizard has come to us, should we not kill him?" The wizard left in the bar was full of crevices, yet in his heart, he asked the kind of question only Quirrell would ask.
"Do you still misunderstand your own strength?" Voldemort, inside Quirrell who had taken the Polyjuice Potion, angrily scolded. Both he and Quirrell clearly recognized Ian, despite him having taken the Aging Potion.
This perhaps really isn't a useful potion.
"Quickly return! We only have one chance! Dumbledore could return at any time!" Voldemort began urging Quirrell back to Hogwarts.
Tonight, he would use the potion's temporary rejuvenation to obtain the Magic Stone; then everything lost would be restored, and he would be reborn through this servant's body.
At that time.
Everything would return to proper order, and Voldemort's name would once again resound through the Wizarding World—more excitedly, Voldemort was unable to suppress his impulses any longer.
"Want to play a game of chess?"
A roadside chess player attempted to recruit customers.
"Go away!"
Voldemort angrily snapped through Quirrell's mouth—only, he realized he was merely borrowing Quirrell's mouth temporarily, feeling an inexplicable sense of fleetingness as his weakened soul.
As if it might dissipate at any moment.
"Quickly go back! Something's wrong with me!"
He couldn't understand his condition, but he knew that obtaining the Magic Stone would allow his precarious, teetering soul to be reborn.
"The leaving old guy seems to have grafted some matters onto this foolish mule descendant of mine... took my nanny's job." The chess-playing street vendor looked at Quirrell's disappearing back and smirked.
He looked at the chess pieces on his board, one of which was transparent like a crystal ball, showcasing the image of Ian and Aurora intercepting the black market merchant.
The two followed the black-robed wizard to the outskirts before making a move. For safety, they performed some facial transformations, though Ian wasn't very proficient in using such magic.
He couldn't do fine adjustments, so he simply replicated Senior Riddle's face.
"No selling these illegal items around Hogwarts!" Ian emptied the black market merchant's belongings; dealing with a not-so-powerful rat was very simple for him.
"Are you Aurors?"
The black-robed wizard raised his hands, unwilling to resist, as Ian searched him; not far away, another extremely beautiful girl pointed her magic wand at him. The blue glow and the magic power waves from the Avada spell made him dare not resist, for he was from Ravenclaw just like Quirrell.
This looked like a newly adult, pretty girl, with genuine killing intent in her wand. Or rather, she thought killing him was to relieve him, helping him escape—a kind of killing intent!
"We are the Ministry of Magic's Black-Robed Patrol Squad, specialized in punishing lawbreakers disturbing the peace around Hogwarts." Ian spontaneously made up a story.
The black-robed wizard's face immediately became even paler; he hadn't heard of such a unit, but because of that, he had to consider whether this was some secret team from the Ministry of Magic.
Like the Church Court has the Inquisition.
It's not impossible for the Ministry of Magic to have a Black-Robe Patrol Squad.
Judging by this situation!
These two are likely underground personnel for the Ministry of Magic, collecting illicit profits—the black-robed wizard suddenly felt he had seen through the hidden darkness in the Wizarding World.
"I just sell things that aren't deadly."
The black-robed wizard began to defend himself, just as he saw Ian extract a cursed doll from him, specifically used to curse and kill enemies.
"Not very deadly..."
He immediately felt a bit guilty and changed his statement.
"Isn't there more than just this?"
Ian wasn't concerned about the legality level of the items this guy sold; he just checked the value of the dozens of bags he retrieved, which could only be considered expensive.
"That's it, brother. If I had enough capital, I'd go open a store in Diagon Alley; why sell black goods here?" The black-robed wizard put on a pitiful look.
Ian was a master of playing the pity card; he certainly wouldn't believe such a performance.
"I used the Blessing Potion just to target you!"
Ian snorted disdainfully, turning to Aurora, "Did your Truth Serum finish brewing? Can't we give a bit to this guy?"
Aurora nodded immediately upon hearing this.
"No problem, just a little bit, right?"
As she spoke,
she took out a large water jug.