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What? Was That What I Thought?

Editor: Atlas Studios

"Good riddance! Rhys Nott deserved to die for daring to offend you, sir!"

Ivan rolled his eyes. He didn't know what to say to this sycophant.

At the same time, Ivan was keen to note that Rosier Senior seemed pleased to learn of Reese Nott's death, and did not seem to be faking it.

'Any bad blood between them?'

Yvonne frowned, unable to understand.

Upon guessing that Rhys Nott had died at Ivan's hands, Rosier Senior was overjoyed.

Because of the Noether's prestige in their group, it was uncertain who Foley, Abbott, and the others would have listened to had it not happened.

Rosier Senior did not want to go through all this trouble only to have his work stolen.

Things were different now. With the death of Rhys Nott, the tension between the two sides was almost irreconcilable, and even if the old Nott was willing to compromise, Ivan would always remember it.

This meant that his greatest obstacle was gone, and how could the old Rosier not be glad?

"Sir Harles, the Norts are actually quite easy to deal with. Why don't we—" Old Rosier cleared his throat, intending to give Ivan some advice, but before he could finish, Alicia came bustling in with a large group of people.

Ivan gave Rosier Senior a look, telling him to come back later.

Rosier thought Ivan was trying to keep Alicia in the dark, so he nodded and kept quiet.

A fierce and ambitious person… That was how it was. He understood why he had to guard against even his own family!

Ivan, on the other hand, was secretly relieved. He knew too little at the moment to be able to judge Rosier Senior's proposal. Who knew if Rosier Senior was trying to set him up?

It would be better to delay the matter until he heard more from Dagget or Alicia.

"It seems that we're a little late. The fight is over…" Alicia said with a smile as she looked around the room, which had been repaired after the fight.

"Well, it was easier than I thought…" Ivan spread his hands.

Before coming here, he thought that this place was a tiger's den and that he would have to go through some twists and turns to win. He did not expect that he would not encounter any obstacles along the way.

Ivan then turned to look at old Rosier and praised him in front of everyone. "Of course, it went so well thanks to Mr. Rosier!"

"You flatter me, Mr. Harls. I only did some minor work as per your instructions," Rosier Senior said, trying to please him.

His past experience had taught him that the fastest way to rise through the ranks was not to do a good job, but to flatter and please!

He knew this very well, so he was determined to be a capable lackey!

Ivan ignored him and looked at Alicia strangely. "Where's Doggett?" he asked. "He must have come through the secret passage. There shouldn't be many guards there. Hasn't it been taken care of yet?"

"It's been taken care of a long time ago. He's out there guarding the prisoners!" said Alicia.

Ivan nodded, then asked about the casualties.

"There were four minor injuries and two serious injuries. One of the werewolves was caught in a trap and nearly died. Fortunately, Douggart arrived in time to treat him," Alicia explained, then added solemnly, "No one died!"

"I'm glad to hear it," Ivan said, relieved.

He said as much before the battle, and gave everyone a protective ring in order to minimize casualties.

This was not only to save his pensions, but also because he did not want to see his followers die…

Madam Grint's gaze was one that he could not forget from the day of her funeral.

Ivan couldn't care less whether his enemies lived or died, or if they had loved ones who grieved for him. After all, kindness to the enemy was often cruelty to oneself.

Since he was being paid a relatively high salary, he had to be prepared to die!

Ivan quickly composed himself and asked expectantly, "Where is the vault, Rosier?"

He felt that this place was built like a small fortress and was located under the Wizarding Market. There should be a small treasury here. Perhaps there would be something good.

"If you'll come with me, Sir Harls?" Rosier asked, extending his hand and bowing.

Ivan inclined his head and headed in the direction the elder Rossier had indicated, taking several turns before arriving at a small, hidden room.

In the centre of the room hung a large landscape painting, which appeared to have been nailed to the wall. Old Rosier quickly stepped forward, tapped the painting lightly with his wand, and chanted a series of incantations.

The landscape painting flipped open with a loud click, revealing a hollow, boxy-looking chamber at the back containing a large number of gold Galleons, silver Knuts and Bronze Knuts, as well as a number of strange-looking magical objects.

The werewolves, who had not seen much of the world, were dazzled by the glittering golden light.

Ivan, however, was not happy with the small amount of gold that he had.

He raised his wand and waved it in the air, and all the Galleons, Cygnuses, and Bronze Knuts in the vault flew up, spinning in the air and piling up in a regular arrangement.

A moment later, Ivan had the exact amount.

"Nineteen thousand six hundred and thirty-seven Galleons, eight thousand four hundred and thirteen Sickles, and thirty-two thousand and four Knuts!"

A total of just over twenty thousand Galleons was not what he had expected. The Wizarding Market had been operating in Knockturn Alley for hundreds of years and could not possibly be worth so little.

Ivan looked at old Rosier in surprise, waiting for an answer.

"It's not very safe these days. The Norts are worried about being breached, so they've moved most of their wealth back, leaving the wizarding market untouched to ensure it's functioning properly," Rosier Senior answered Ivan's question.

Yvonne now understood why there was so little left.

"How many Galleons were there before that?" Ivan persisted, brooding.

"About fifty thousand Galleons!" Old Rosier hesitated for a moment before answering truthfully.

They usually met at the end of each year to divide the profits.

This year, they were unlucky enough to be targeted for no reason. Their income plummeted, so they split up early, leaving behind these to hire a large number of wizards to guard the market and ensure that it ran smoothly.

Ivan felt as if his heart were bleeding. 30,000 Galleons gone in one go! Ordinary wizards would not have earned that much in their lifetime!

After all, he didn't intend to kill the pure-bloods, and he didn't want to force them to hand over the money. Otherwise, the pure-bloods would be unhappy, and the thirty thousand Galleons would be lost…

At the side, old Rosier was secretly watching Ivan's every word and action. He had the feeling that Ivan was a money-grubber.

No, never!

Rosier Senior shook his head, dismissing this notion. He had insulted Ivan by using five hundred Galleons to perform a spell on him, and he was not a greedy little wizard.

There was only one explanation: the other party was short of money!

And it was a hole that not even twenty thousand Galleons could fill!

There are not many uses for so many Galleons!

Were they planning on expanding their forces to deal with the Ministry?

This was the only guess the elder Rossier could make, but it did not stop him from having other thoughts.

Pure-blood families like them did not lack money and were very good at investing.

It would not be a loss if they could exchange tens of thousands of Galleons for Ivan's goodwill and favor. As long as this young wizard could take over the wizarding world in the future, they would be able to earn back dozens of times more!

When the Dark Lord rose to power, many pure-blood wizards and witches who supported him had the same idea, and some even lost their entire families in the bet…

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