Goblins Hall

Dealing with goblins was not actually difficult. They disliked beating around the bush; all one had to do was plainly state what they stood to gain.

As the biggest bookmaker in the global Wizarding World, Goblins Hall naturally had the capability to tamper with over a thousand Magical Base Stations at once.

British fans had lost much of their interest in the World Cup because of the Dark Mark, but compared to all of Europe—or even the entire world—what did the British Isles amount to?

Taber was quite interested in Bagman's new plan.

This was practically a risk-free profit, so how could naturally greedy goblins possibly refuse?

However, the previously agreed distribution of profits had to be adjusted accordingly.

If they were only providing Wayne Enterprises' maintenance manual, what right did they have to take half the profits?

After round after round of haggling, Bagman finally made a concession and agreed to a thirty-seventy split.

Taber wore a pained expression. "Ludo, don't say I've been unfair. Thirty percent is already the utmost sincerity we can offer."

Bagman cursed inwardly.

At the beginning of the negotiations, Taber had wanted a ten-ninety split. If he had not argued his case so hard, how could this greedy goblin have offered such "sincerity"?

Yet outwardly, he remained perfectly polite. "Director Taber, I'm already satisfied with thirty percent."

There were so many fans throughout the global Wizarding World, not to mention all those seasoned gamblers. Even a small fraction of the profits would be enough to wipe out his IOUs.

The two sides signed a new magical contract, and only then did Bagman hand Wayne Enterprises' maintenance manual to Taber.

"If you don't want the plan to fall through, don't make any moves ahead of schedule. I tested the waters a little during the day, and their efficiency is very high."

Taber smiled disdainfully at that. "You mean Wayne? His attainments in alchemy are indeed exceptional, but he is still only a child."

Bagman snorted. "You'd better not underestimate him. I heard something from the Ministry—he had been using a Time-Turner right up until this summer."

Taber recalled the previous news reports. The photograph on the front page truly had not looked like a fifteen-year-old child.

Thinking of how the old gentlemen had been utterly crushed in Wizard Cards, Taber immediately wiped the disdain from his face.

"Ludo, I'll notify the other branches and have everyone stay alert."

Seeing that Taber had begun taking it seriously, Bagman said nothing more. He rose and left Goblins Hall alone.

After he left, Fedi, dressed in magnificent armor, came to Taber's side. "Director, do you really believe that gambling addict Ludo?"

Taber shook his head. "I have never believed him. What I believe in is human nature."

Fedi looked utterly bewildered. "Human nature? Isn't that a Muggle thing?"

Taber's smile was full of mockery. "Muggles still have many worthy qualities. How could those shortsighted wizards possibly understand?"

Human nature was immensely complicated. Even humans themselves had not managed to fully understand it, let alone goblins.

But with even a little study, one could understand the pathological mindset of gamblers like Bagman.

For the sake of winning, for the sake of making a comeback, he would absolutely stop at nothing.

Fedi nodded his large head as if he understood. "Director, cooperating with him will definitely offend Wayne. We have to consider the possible consequences in advance."

The smile on Taber's face instantly turned cold. "Offend him? When did we ever offend Wayne?"

Fedi froze for a moment, then grinned broadly. "Right. Everything was ordered by Bagman. We are innocent."

Since ancient times, Alchemists had been among the professions one should least offend in the Wizarding World.

They could easily create all kinds of wondrous, fantastical alchemical items. Especially the very best among them—offending them not only meant offending countless wizards who needed their help, but also an unknown number of magical races.

If Wayne Enterprises could broadcast the World Cup worldwide, its relationship with magical governments across various countries was certainly not bad.

And Vincent Wayne, who led it, was a young wizard with limitless potential. If he were merely a child, there would be no need to pay him too much attention.

But according to Bagman's information just now, who knew how much extra time he had gained through the Time-Turner?

At eleven, he had been able to directly confront a dark wizard professor. At twelve, he had subdued a thousand-year-old Basilisk. At thirteen, he had even played a group of pure-blood old gentlemen like fools. At fourteen, he had personally captured Death Eaters who had vanished for over a decade.

Now, no one knew how much more he had grown. Goblins, who excelled at calculation, naturally had no desire to offend him.

Eggplant Restaurant,

Vincent, who was having a candlelit dinner with Hermione, suddenly sneezed.

It did not stop at one. He sneezed three times in a row.

One meant someone was thinking of you, two meant someone was badmouthing you behind your back, and three meant you had caught a cold.

Vincent caught the napkin Hermione handed him. "That's strange. I don't feel cold at all."

He had possessed an incredibly robust constitution since childhood. The last time he had caught a cold was in primary school, when he built a snowman shirtless in the dead of winter.

Thinking about it, that had been nearly ten years ago.

Hermione muttered softly, "Professor Dumbledore seemed to say that he hadn't been sick in over half a century..."

Vincent carefully folded the used napkin and set it aside. "No need to guess. Someone must be plotting against me."

"Huh?" Hermione thought about it and realized that it really was possible.

It was not that she was superstitious. Magic was simply too miraculous.

Take life debts, for example. When one wizard saved another wizard's life, the person saved owed the rescuer a life debt.

The special connection formed between them would unconsciously drive the indebted wizard to repay it. Even if they were enemies, regardless of whether either party wished it, the connection would still exist.

Vincent was a natural master of Occlumency. Perhaps he could sense malice more easily than ordinary wizards.

Hermione frowned deeply. "Don't you think it's too much of a coincidence that the Magical Projections at the Ministry of Magic and the stadium malfunctioned at the same time today?"

They were all produced on automated assembly lines. If the failures had happened in different regions, that would have been one thing, but the odds of simultaneous failures within the country were practically impossible.

"It is indeed too much of a coincidence." Vincent glanced at the time on his Magical Communicator.

It was half past eight in the evening. Fanny and Bo Ye should still be repairing the equipment at the stadium.

He gently smoothed Hermione's furrowed brow with his hand. "Let's go take a look after we finish eating."

"Alright."

Twenty minutes later, the two appeared at the stadium in Dartmoor.

Bo Ye was indeed still repairing the last Magical Projection, while Fanny sat off to the side, happily hugging a signed Viktor Krum poster.

Vincent's mouth twitched. He quietly came up behind Fanny.

"What are you doing?"

Fanny jolted in fright and threw the poster in his arms straight into the air.

By the time he turned around and saw his chairman, the poster had already been caught by Vincent.

"Slacking off at work?" Vincent returned the poster to him. "Don't let it happen again."

Fanny felt his nose sting.

Back when they had been in Knockturn Alley, everyone in Fallen Paradise had lived in constant fear.

They either worried about persecution from rivals or feared enemies coming to their door.

His eyes reddened as he hugged the poster tightly to his chest. "Chairman, I..."

"Don't." Vincent took a small step back. "That doesn't work on me."

Fanny theatrically sniffed. "I spent so long working myself up, and you can't even cooperate a little, Chairman?"

Vincent shot him an annoyed glare. "If you want to get sentimental, go find Abraham and the others. I don't have time to indulge you right now."

Fanny pouted and put away the poster.

But he quickly perked up again. "Chairman, why did you suddenly come here?"

"There's something I need to confirm."

"Confirm what?"

"Whether this malfunction was really just a coincidence."