bacchusnovels Chapter 271 Buying Dumb Cannons
Chapter 271 Buying Dumb Cannons
Chapter 271 Buying Dumb Cannons
"Even what?" Sean's voice was oppressive, his tone cold but threatening.
The man in the black robe swallowed, and under pressure from Sean's imposing manner, he did not continue speaking.
Sean's eyes narrowed slightly, and his mind began to work rapidly.
After a moment, he slowly spoke, "Very good, you just saved your own life."
A look of relief at surviving the ordeal appeared on the black-robed man's face. He tried to get up, panting, but was still too weak to stand.
He looked at Sean, his eyes filled with humble gratitude.
Sean gave the man in black a cold look, then casually waved his wand. A soft light shone from the tip of the wand and gently landed on the man in black.
The man in the black robe immediately felt a warm power flow through his body, and the pain and injuries gradually dissipated, while the heaviness in his body also lessened.
He looked down at himself in surprise. His previously bluish skin and limbs that had been immobilized by the excruciating pain had returned to normal, as if the pain he had just experienced had never happened.
Sean's face remained indifferent. "Come with me."
After saying that, Sean didn't look at him again, turned around and left the alley. The man in the black robe knelt behind him, like a soulless shell.
Back at Sean's temporary residence, a somber atmosphere filled the air, with dim lighting illuminating the entire room.
Sean stood in the center of the room, turned around, and looked coldly at the man in the black robe.
"From now on, everything you have belongs to me," Sean said. "You'll work for me, gather more intelligence, especially about the Squirrel's whereabouts, understand?"
The man in black robes nodded repeatedly, his voice weak and respectful: "Yes, sir, I will take care of everything for you."
The man in the black robe changed how he addressed Sean.
Sean nodded in satisfaction, the coldness in his eyes softening slightly, but still filled with warning: "If you dare to have even the slightest thought of betrayal, I guarantee you won't have a second chance."
Cold sweat beaded on the black-robed man's forehead. Based on everything that had just happened in the alley, he knew that Sean's threat was not just empty talk.
He clenched his fist instinctively and whispered, "I, Rob Ayers, swear to Merlin I will never betray you. You are my only savior."
"Very good," Sean slowly turned around, took a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet beside him, and then calmly took out an exquisite glass, gently placing it on the table. The crisp sound echoed softly in the room. "Very good."
Now tell me about the black market you've heard about.
Ayers trembled slightly, took a deep breath, and slowly spoke.
"The black market—this black market is located in a very secluded place, near the docks in south Glasgow. Access is complicated, requiring passage through several different portals, making it difficult for outsiders to find. It primarily deals in contraband magical items, dark magic tools, and some—goods—not quite recognized by the Ministry of Magic, such as the Squibs you mentioned."
He paused, looked at Sean's reaction, and continued, "The Squibs are kept in a hidden corner of the black market. They are considered useless, so they are very cheap and almost no one is willing to buy them. However, occasionally some dark wizards will buy them back to use as slaves or experimental subjects."
Sean narrowed his eyes slightly, listening quietly, seemingly deep in thought.
Seeing this, Ayers quickly added, "There are probably several dozen of them. However, new Squibs are sent into the black market every month—."
"There--"
The dock area in south Glasgow appears particularly gloomy under the cover of night, with the dim streetlights barely illuminating the dilapidated buildings and wet cobblestone streets.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of the sea, mixed with the stench of decay, which made one feel uneasy. Occasionally, the sound of ship horns broke the silence of the dock area.
Sean and Ayers walked quietly down the narrow alleyway, where old wooden crates and ropes were piled up on both sides, as if these items had been abandoned there long ago and no one intended to clean them up.
As Ayers walked, he looked around anxiously.
"The entrance to the black market is just ahead, but ordinary people will never discover its existence," the man in black robes explained in a low voice, as if afraid of being overheard by some hidden spies. "It's hidden deep within the docks, protected by the 'Loyalty Spell,' and only those who have been approved can enter."
"The Curse of Unwavering Loyalty?" Sean murmured softly.
Seemingly, Sean didn't understand what the Unwavering Loyalty Spell was, so Ayers quickly explained, "It's an extremely complex spell that uses magic to forever hide someone's secret within the soul of a living person. That secret is hidden in the heart of the chosen person, the Keeper of the Secret, and therefore will never be discovered unless the Keeper of the Secret actively reveals it..."
7
Sean waved his hand impatiently, and Ayers immediately understood and obediently shut his mouth.
As they spoke, the two arrived at an abandoned warehouse. The warehouse looked dilapidated; the iron on the door was rusted.
The frame is tilted and looks like it could collapse at any moment.
The man in black robes gently waved his wand and whispered a few incantations. Accompanied by a faint flash of blue light, the seemingly solid stone wall in front of the warehouse suddenly began to change, like a faded painting slowly fading away to reveal a hidden door.
Sean's eyes flickered slightly as he observed the change. As the wall disappeared, a hidden passage appeared before them, dimly lit on both sides, giving it a mysterious and secluded feel.
The air suddenly turned cold, as if the previous stench had been instantly replaced by a fresh but chilly wind.
"The Loyalty Charm isn't just for hiding the entrance; it also shields us from all outside detection. Even if the Ministry of Magic were standing here, they wouldn't be able to detect the black market's existence," the man in black robes added in a low voice, glancing at Sean.
They continued along the passage, their footsteps echoing on the stone pavement. The surrounding air gradually became quieter, seemingly completely isolated from the outside world.
After passing through the passage, a completely open space opened up before them, revealing an underground market.
This black market stood in stark contrast to the dilapidated docks outside.
The place was bustling with activity, brightly lit, and filled with a mixture of exotic fragrances and magical scents.
Various stalls were neatly arranged, some selling rare magical items and strange potions, while wizards dressed in black robes were quietly peddling prohibited items.
The surrounding vendors and buyers gathered in twos and threes, discussing something in hushed tones.
This place is a hidden gem, completely different from the cold and dilapidated dock area outside. The Galleons flowing between the stalls sell things that cannot be obtained outside.
Everything before my eyes seemed like a self-contained world, operating according to its own laws.
"This is the black market," Ayers said softly, a hint of tension in his eyes. "Don't be fooled by its seemingly orderly appearance..."
Everyone here is a potential threat. If you stand out too much, you might soon become someone's prey.
Ayers' voice carried a hint of warning. As soon as he finished speaking, he nervously looked around, as if afraid that they had attracted the attention of others.
Sean did not respond, but simply surveyed everything in front of him with a calm gaze.
The black market was dangerous, but to him, it was nothing special.
Sean didn't linger on Ayers' words for long; his gaze quickly swept over the strangely atmospheric black market.
Although the lights were bright, they seemed cold and glaring. The whispering crowd sounded to Sean like a noisy gust of wind, appearing all the more fake and dangerous.
Ayers led Sean quickly through the bustling market, heading deeper into the black market. As they proceeded,
The items sold at the stalls also began to become darker and more illegal.
Rare poisons, exotic magical creature specimens, and magical items that are clearly obtained illegally from ancient tombs are all traded here in secret.
Clearly, not every antidote is as morally upright as Bill.
Finally, they arrived at an exceptionally eerie area. A musty smell filled the air, like a long-abandoned place, but this was where duds were traded.
There were rows of iron cages, each holding several duds.
Their faces were withered, their eyes were empty, their clothes were tattered, and they exuded an indescribable stench.
These duds were treated as useless trash by black market dealers, their bodies ravaged beyond recognition by appalling living conditions. Some leaned against the iron bars of their cages, emaciated and seemingly about to collapse; others huddled in corners, curled up in balls, their eyes vacant and unresponsive. Their skin was as pale as paper, covered in scars and grime, clearly the result of long-term abuse and neglect.
Sean stopped, his gaze sweeping coldly over the cages. Each Squib's face was like a lifeless shell; stripped of their magic, they had been utterly abandoned by society, reduced to slavery or experimental subjects.
The value of these people here is merely that they can be bought at a very low price in exchange for some Galleons.
"This is where the Squibs are traded," Ayers said in a low voice, a hint of unease in his tone. "The slaves here are bought every day; some are sent to hard labor, and some will never come back."
Sean's gaze swept over the duds, but their miserable state did not evoke any pity in him.
He wasn't concerned with their past or experiences, but rather with their future purpose.
However, there were some things about Sean that were hard to understand.
He turned to Ayers and asked, "Why choose these Squibs? Wouldn't Muggles be easier for them to obtain?"
Ayers paused slightly upon hearing Sean's question, swallowing instinctively, a flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes.
But she still answered in a low voice.
"Sir, Muggles are indeed easier to obtain, especially in places without magical protection. But Squibs are different."
Although they have lost their magic, they still retain a latent awareness of the magical world, an awareness that Muggles cannot possess.
"Moreover... the success rate of using them as potion ingredients is much higher than that of Muggles."
At that moment, the black market slave trader in charge of the transaction approached. He was an obese man, wearing a tattered cloak, with a greedy and foul smile on his face.
"Hello, are you two here to buy duds?" His voice was hoarse and unpleasant, as if he were extracting the value of every Galleon from each word.
Sean simply nodded, his gaze indifferent. "Price is not a problem."
A glint of greed flashed in the dealer's eyes, and he immediately smiled and said, "Of course, of course. We can give you a very good price. These duds have been abandoned by everyone, and you can take them all away at a very low price."
As he spoke, he pointed to the pitiful figures in the cages, as if displaying a batch of cheap goods. The duds in the cages looked helplessly at the outside world; they seemed to have become accustomed to this life, their hopes long since shattered, and they no longer had the strength to struggle.
Sean had no interest in wasting time on small talk with the dealer. He waved his hand, signaling for the transaction to proceed quickly. The man in the black robe immediately pulled a heavy bag of Galleons from his pocket and handed it to the dealer.
The dealer's greed intensified when he saw the heavy bag of Galleons. He quickly weighed the bag in his hand, as if calculating the profit he could make from each Galleon.
Actually, there's no need to calculate it.
Because... there is no cost.
He smiled slyly, his tone full of flattery: "You are such a generous guest! These duds are useless to others, but they will definitely come in very handy with you."
Sean stared coldly at the dealer, showing no interest in his flattery.
The dealer quickly clapped his hands, signaling his assistant to open the iron cage and release the duds.
Several duds, bound by chains, were roughly pulled out. They stood there helplessly, their eyes vacant, numb to everything around them.
His thin body was covered in scars, and his clothes were tattered; he was even worse off than the homeless on the streets of London.
"This is just the tip of the iceberg," the dealer said in a low voice, seemingly testing Sean's reaction. "If you have a greater need, I have more stock here, as much as you want. As long as you can afford the price, I can arrange more duds for you to choose from immediately."
"I need more," Sean said calmly, his tone devoid of any emotion. "I want every single Squib you can provide, no matter the quantity."
Upon hearing this, the trafficker's eyes gleamed with barely concealed delight, as if a mountain of gold was beckoning to him. "All the Squibs? Of course, of course! I have dozens more imprisoned in even more secluded places, waiting to be traded. I can contact my people immediately and bring them all over for you."
Sean nodded, his gaze still cold: "Don't delay, I hope to complete this deal as soon as possible."
Soon, more Squibs were brought out of the black market's hidden cages. Thin, numb, and pale-faced, they were brought to Sean one after another.
As the trafficker instructed his men to continue bringing out more Squibs, he wiped the sweat from his brow, clearly excited about this huge deal. His smile grew wider as the number of Squibs increased.
However, Sean suddenly spoke up, breaking his complacency.
"Where did these duds come from?" Sean's voice carried a hint of scrutiny.
The vendor's smile froze slightly. He glanced at Sean instinctively, seemingly hesitating whether to tell the truth.
After a moment, he chuckled dryly and said in a low voice, "Sir, some of these Squibs come from wizarding families, and some are captured from remote areas. They were abandoned by their families and ended up on the streets. Sometimes our people find them and bring them here—the demand here is huge, so the supply is endless."
Sean frowned slightly, his eyes sharpening: "You said some of them were captured? Where were they captured from?"
The trafficker nervously rubbed his hands together and hurriedly explained, "Sir, some members of the black market operate on outlying islands and in remote areas. The Squibs in those places usually live in harsh conditions and are easily found by our people—they are powerless to resist, and the Ministry of Magic doesn't handle these kinds of matters, so we—well, we bring them here."
"Have these Squibs been noticed by anyone else?" Sean asked coldly, his tone carrying a hint of pressure.
The dealer hurriedly shook his head: "No, sir, we try to keep a low profile. Many duds have no relatives or friends who care about them. They are forgotten like shadows. Transactions on the black market are conducted quietly, so you don't need to worry at all."
Sean nodded, his gaze shifting to the Squibs: "Very good. Keep bringing men over; I want every Squib you can find."
The dealer nodded hurriedly, his face beaming, "Of course, sir, I'll arrange for more goods immediately. As long as you can afford the price, all the duds will be yours."
"These duds are just the beginning," Sean began slowly, a hint of threat in his voice. "What I need is a continuous supply. Can you deliver?"
The dealer cautiously observed Sean's expression and tentatively asked, "Sir, you mean—you want to establish a long-term partnership with us? We can, well, ensure that a sufficient number of Squibs are delivered to you every month."
"That's right, I need a stable supply, and I won't tolerate any interference. If anyone else gets involved, or if your efficiency doesn't meet my requirements, the deal will be terminated at any time."
The dealer was overjoyed to hear about such a large-scale transaction.
He thought for a moment, and under Sean's gaze, pulled out something that resembled a walkie-talkie—no, it was a walkie-talkie.
Then he said something into the walkie-talkie.
A few minutes later, a burly man wearing a suit that seemed out of place in the atmosphere walked over.
"Hello, I'm the person in charge here," the man in the suit said warmly, his voice deep and steady. "I heard you're interested in our Squibs and want to establish a long-term partnership. We've always worked with many high-end clients in the black market, but your direct and clear request is indeed surprising."
Hearing the familiar words and seeing the man's familiar attire, Sean was somewhat surprised.
For a moment, he almost mistook it for being sold insurance by Citibank.
Sean cut to the chase without further ado: "I don't need any other cooperation from you, just a long-term supply of Squirt. A fixed quantity each month, I need consistent quality goods, and the quantity must be at least a hundred people. Can you do that?"
The man in the suit frowned slightly upon hearing Sean's request, but quickly masked his hesitation, calmly stating, "Of course, our black market network spans the globe, so the supply of Squibs isn't a problem. However, for a demand like yours, we need more preparation time. Furthermore, the monthly pricing must be tailored to satisfy both parties."
Sean snorted and said coldly, "Golden Galleons are not a problem. As long as you don't play any tricks, the cooperation can continue."
The man in the suit nodded, a shrewd glint in his eyes: "Then, we are pleased to reach an agreement with you. You will receive the best supply, and we guarantee on-time delivery without any delays."
Sean nodded in satisfaction. "Remember, all I need is efficiency and consistency. Don't try anything funny."
The man in the suit smiled slightly and said in a low voice, "You can rest assured that we in the black market have always valued customer relationships."
Black market, customer relationships.
Hearing these two seemingly unrelated words linked together is quite surprising.
Sean smiled genuinely.
He liked this society where everything could be solved with Galleons.