Chapter 168: Leashing the Vicious Dog

Weasel Mountain.

Murphy idly sat in his own courtyard, watching the distant fields where several children were chasing goblins.

With his current ability to see far, he could clearly make out an insect thousands of meters away, so even from here, he could see the mischievous smiles on George and Fred's faces. They seemed to be planning a big explosion for the goblins.

Ron, on the other hand, was frantically throwing stones, with an angry Ginny standing by his side. She had been hit by a goblin's mud ball and was preparing for revenge.

Murphy watched with interest.

He had been staying here often lately due to convalescence and had a good relationship with the Weasley family. Occasionally, Murphy would visit, bringing small gifts for the children, like the several "Sweeping Seven Stars" he had recently given, which made Ron very happy.

Arthur also came by often, bringing delicacies made by Molly and discussing things about the Muggle world with him.

As the Director of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, Arthur's knowledge of Muggle items was both shallowly amusing and full of wild ideas.

If it had been the old, cynical Murphy, he would have thought the other person hopelessly stupid and unreasonable, a mere placeholder.

But now, he found it quite amusing and even disassembled his own television with Arthur.

Suddenly, after a distortion of space at the foot of the mountain, a man with pale golden hair holding a wand appeared there.

Lucius had arrived.

...

Lucius had never been to Weasel Mountain before, but the crow landed on him, allowing him to phantom shift. After reciting a spell, he was transported here.

He looked around and found himself standing at the foot of a hillside.

Uncertain of which direction to go, he heard a caw and looked up to see several crows perched on a nearby tree.

Then he noticed, not just on that tree, but all over the hillside in front of him, there were crows.

Most of them were wandering around the grass, pecking at insects, but on the path leading up the hillside, the black birds stood like guards, all watching him with their black eyes.

Lucius walked up the path under the watchful eyes of the crows.

"Caw, Lucius!"

"Caw, idiot!"

"Caw, you're finished."

Many of the crows could speak human language, and their words sank Lucius's heart even lower.

The short journey felt like a century to him. By the time he arrived at the courtyard, he was sweating profusely and felt as weak as if he was about to faint.

The previously clear sky had become overcast, cooling considerably. The wind started to blow, making him feel cold.

In the courtyard, Murphy was sitting in a high-backed chair, looking down at him as he climbed up the steps from the doorway.

"Lucius."

Murphy leaned lazily against the back of the chair, one hand resting on the armrest, chin slightly raised, his half-closed eyes shining with a golden hue in the dimming light.

His voice was not loud or stern, merely calling out his name, yet it felt like the grim reaper's verdict.

Lucius felt a great disaster looming, as if a huge stone was hanging over his head. His legs gave out, and he knelt down.

"Mur... Master..."

Murphy sighed.

If only you had known what would come today.

Initially, he truly thought he could get along well with these so-called pure-blood nobles, conceding some benefits if necessary. After all, his business was so vast that even the slightest leak from his fingertips was more than they had ever earned.

But, human greed knows no bounds. They did not care about the benefits Murphy's arrival brought them; instead, they envied Murphy for taking the lion's share.

Murphy now saw them clearly. At heart, they believed in the law of the jungle, the survival of the fittest. On the surface, they appeared gentlemanly, but deep down, they were no different from their barbaric ancestors who thrived on bloodshed.

They had no respect for the "civilization" they touted. Conciliatory measures would only make them see you as weak and exploitable.

The only way to deal with them was to hurt them, deeply, then collar them, leash them, and establish rules to use them as your attack dogs.

"Lucius," Murphy looked at the man prostrating at his feet, his tone indifferent, "Do you want to live or die?"

"I want to live! I want to live! Master, spare me, spare my life..."

After kneeling, the title "master" became increasingly natural for him to say.

"Good."

Murphy gestured, and a parchment scroll appeared in front of him, a quill pen dipped in what seemed to be animal blood began writing non-stop on it. In no time, the entire parchment was filled. Then, the scroll landed in front of Lucius.

"If you want to live, sign this contract with your blood."

Lucius's trembling hands picked up the parchment and found it indeed was a contract, stipulating that he must serve Murphy until the latter relieved him of his duties.

The service content could be summed up in one sentence: Use all means to ensure the unconditional execution of Murphy's orders.

It was a slave contract, almost allowing Murphy to control all his actions and command him to do anything, just like he would with a house-elf.

This was an unconditional and absolute loyalty.

In an instant, Lucius thought of Rasmus Selwyn and Barty Crouch. Was it such contracts that made them so loyal to Murphy?

The contract surely carried a powerful curse. He knew once he signed it, he would no longer control his own body, possibly even his thoughts would be under the other's command.

Indeed, his guess was correct. This was an application developed by Murphy through the Heart Seed contract model. He didn't need to recite the Heart Seed spell to the contractees each time; instead, he attached the Heart Seed spell to the parchment. The written content was the terms of the contract.

What to do? Signing it meant becoming a complete slave, but not signing meant death.

Lucius was not a decisive person. Faced with such a choice, he couldn't make up his mind.

But Murphy obviously didn't have the patience to wait, "You have ten seconds to decide."

As he spoke, thunder gathered in the sky, lightning crawling through the clouds as if ready to strike at any moment.

"Caw! Idiot!"

"Caw! Fool!"

The crows jeered at Lucius, even counting down for him, "Caw, eight!"

"Caw, six!"

"Three!"

"One!"

Crack, a bright flash of lightning, seemed about to strike, Lucius bit his finger, "I'll sign! I'll sign!"

He said, and with his blood, wrote his name on the contract.

After signing, Lucius held up the contract, "Great Murphy! I, Lucius Malfoy, swear eternal loyalty to you!"

Suddenly, with a loud boom, the lightning in the sky struck down, not hitting Lucius but entering the contract, which then dissolved in the electric fire.

Faintly, Lucius felt as if something had been etched onto his heart, as if his soul had been caged, preventing him from acting freely.

"Rise, now let's talk about business."

"Lucius, you and Albert Runcorn are Hogwarts' governors, right?"

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