Stephen Cumberbatch

Stephen Cumberbatch

Slug was brought to Malfoy Manor by a house-elf, where Lucius Malfoy was already sitting in a high-backed chair, waiting.

"What did you mean in your letter? Someone's trying to steal your business?"

"Yes, master. Over the past two months, every so often, someone has come to the shop and bought large quantities of ingredients. Mostly dittany, but other potion materials too. I've had to restock several times in a row just to keep up."

Lucius's leather-gloved fingers tapped on the table beside him. "Let me repeat what you just said. You mean our potion ingredients are selling extremely well, but you think this isn't a good thing? Even though we've made tens of thousands of Galleons from it?"

"Yes, master! Of course I'm not saying Galleons aren't a good thing. I mean it's strange that the other party is buying so many ingredients, but not our potions."

"I'm listening."

"An ordinary wizard, if they suddenly needed a potion, would directly buy our finished products. After all, the average wizard's potion-making skill can't compare to the potion experts in our shop," Slug said.

"Even if some wizards are highly skilled and want to save costs by brewing potions themselves, buying just a few sets of ingredients would be enough."

Lucius nodded.

He owned shares in Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. Although he rarely took part in the shop's operations, he did occasionally look over the basic accounts, and what Slug said matched what he knew of the situation.

"In the past, only the professors of Hogwarts would buy large quantities of potion ingredients all at once, because usually they had to provide enough for students to practice with for an entire term."

"But this time, the buyers are not any professors I know. Although they used different appearances each time they showed up, the things they bought were broadly similar, so I have reason to suspect they are actually all one group."

"Think about it, sir. If they aren't professors, why would they buy so many ingredients?"

Lucius thought for a moment but had no clue. "Tell me what you think. Don't make me guess!"

"Yes, yes, master. I suspect they want to open a potion shop! Only opening a potion shop would require so many ingredients! They may be stockpiling materials right now. And by doing this, they can also make it impossible for us to gather enough ingredients in the short term, causing us to be unable to supply customers with the potions they need, thereby lowering our reputation."

Lucius understood. "You mean we're about to have a competitor?"

"Yes, I'm very certain!"

Lucius was half convinced, half doubtful. "Is any shop in Diagon Alley up for sale? Do you know where they plan to open?"

Slug shook his head. "No, I haven't found their target yet."

"Perhaps Knockturn Alley?"

Lucius stopped guessing. "This isn't a good thing. Go investigate it thoroughly! I want to know who is buying our ingredients. If they're preparing to compete with us, then you also need to find out where they plan to open their shop and what potions they specialize in!"

"Yes, master. If they come to buy ingredients again, should we sell to them?"

Lucius hesitated for quite a while. "Sell. You can even raise the price a little. Say ingredients are tight."

After all, that was a huge pile of Galleons. He truly couldn't bear to give it up.

"But keep enough for our own needs," Lucius added at the end.

"Yes, master."

"This is the key to your vault." Locke handed Murphy a small golden key. "You can use it to withdraw money at any counter, exactly like an ordinary vault."

On the seventh day after receiving Locke's gold coins, Murphy summoned this particular goblin.

There was no helping it. Orders for Cloud White Medicine were growing too fast, and he had to keep buying ingredients.

Murphy handed the goblin a suitcase. "Inside is one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. I only need twenty-eight thousand more Galleons in the vault. The difference can be your commission."

Exchanging pounds into gold and then into Galleons had been a necessary workaround. Since he now had Locke as an inside man at Gringotts, there was no need to go through so much trouble.

Besides, this exchange rate was much better than Gringotts's.

"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Murphy. However, what name would you like to withdraw money under? I suggest you'd best not use your real name."

Murphy hadn't planned to use his real name anyway.

After thinking for a moment, he said, "Stephen Cumberbatch, then."

"From now on, when we meet, use that name."

Murphy was somewhat helpless about being forced to open an alt account, but who asked him to be doing things that were somewhat shady?

"Very well, Mr. Stephen. Your gold coins will be ready in two days."

"Then from now on, we're allies." Having finally settled the major issue of obtaining wizarding currency, Murphy was in a good mood and extended a hand.

Locke was somewhat surprised. He hesitated, then stretched out a hand and clasped Murphy's.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Locke."

Locke seemed somewhat flattered. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Stephen."

Only after Murphy left by Apparition did Locke let out a long breath.

As a goblin, especially one not acknowledged by his own kind and doing this kind of shady business, he rarely received any friendly looks.

This was the first time Locke had ever seen any attitude from a wizard other than contempt and disdain.

Stephen Cumberbatch—no, Murphy Darkholme.

This wizard seemed a little different.

"When can we build the research institute?" Murphy asked again in Patrick's room.

This was already the third time he had asked that question.

Although Patrick had said he wanted to set up a vertical farm, Murphy had automatically imagined it as a research base integrating production and R&D. After he had said it twice, Patrick had simply gone along with it.

"I know you're anxious, but don't be too anxious just yet," Patrick said. "We've got too much going on lately. We need to move, recruit people, do publicity, and buy equipment and materials..."

"Umbrella Corporation isn't a workshop anymore. We can't keep working out of my house forever, can we? To be honest, Audrey has already started worrying about too many strangers coming to the house."

Audrey was Patrick's wife, a very elegant Latina designer.

"Uh, sorry."

Because his work had disturbed someone else's life, Murphy did feel rather guilty.

"And we still need to hire people. HR, finance, marketing—we'll need at least twenty-something people just to get the basic structure in place... So, the truth is, we don't have that much usable cash."

"Aren't we pretty good at making money?" Murphy asked.

"We are, but our expenses have been high lately too. Building an R&D base... right now, we don't have the capability."

"All right." Murphy was a little disappointed.

After all, making money by selling potions and the like was really only a means to an end. What he wanted was magical research.

But Patrick was right. Umbrella had only just gotten started, and they hadn't even put together a proper makeshift team yet. Wanting to set up an R&D center already really was a little impatient.

"However, we can first find people to do the preliminary design and planning, as well as site selection and requirements for researchers, and get some preparatory work done. Those things can be outsourced."

"Good!" Murphy nodded. "Let's do that."

Once they had finished discussing matters, Murphy was about to leave, but Patrick stopped him and handed him a package.

Murphy opened it and found it was a brick phone.

"You're always appearing and disappearing like a ghost. I can't get in touch with you at all. Carry this with you. If something comes up, I'll call you."