Vincent caught up with the progress just as Sam brought back the last scum.
This lucky person experienced a full thirty impacts.
"Your object Transfiguration is pretty good."
Sam randomly selected a new lucky person, "What do you mean by 'my object Transfiguration well'?"
I have certificates, and my grades are all excellent!
He pounded his fist on the stomach, causing the other person to turn green with pain.
Vincent gestured towards the shop owner with his chin, "What certificates do you think I can get?"
The entire back Transfiguration into a dense array of fine steel needles, which can pierce the skin with just a slight exertion of breath.
"I can barely manage to get an intermediate Transfiguration certificate."
So, that's OWLS level?
Sam, who was walking toward the shop owner, turned back and pursed his lips, "How would I know about your Britain exam system?"
Vincent drew his Ebony wand and gathered the wands of the 13 scumbags aside.
"And this?" He snapped his fingers with his right hand, silently and without a staff casting the Fire-Making Spell.
"No—" Even more heart-wrenching screams rang out one after another.
The flames eventually landed on one of the wands.
Sam's lips twitched violently.
If we're talking about ruthlessness, it has to be Vincent, who used the sorcerers as human punching bags and then burned their wands in the end.
"If it's Nonverbal spells and Wandless Magic... I should be able to get an advanced spell certificate, right?"
After he finished speaking, he put the thin steel needles back in place.
The process was instantaneous, and no difference could be seen.
It's easy to transform into something, but it's difficult to safely transform back.
Vincent has come to know Sam in a new light.
"Wei— Night Wraith, quite a few more guests have arrived outside."
"I will do it as soon as possible."
The shop owner initially thought he would be saved, and the more he was beaten, the tighter he kept his mouth shut.
However, as more and more "new guests" were added, he desperately realized a cruel reality.
That ordinary-looking Dream Killer, who only took on dirty and tiring jobs, was actually able to easily deal with several wizards at the same time.
The spell used is not fatal, but it can cause more serious injuries.
His style is somewhat similar to that of an Auror, Alastor Moody.
As for the Night Wraith who just broke one of his ribs...
"The human body has 206 bones in total, and I think your shop is missing dozens of them."
Gently bend the index finger that has been picked up to the side, straighten it, and then bend it in the opposite direction.
"Aww—"
The torture was relentless, it was like being in hell.
"What kind of bones do you think are missing?"
He was in so much pain that he was wincing and had no energy left to think.
The answer is fingers and toes.
"Ah--"
After Vincent finished cracking his left hand, he seemed to lose interest and stopped.
The shop owner thought he could finally breathe a sigh of relief, but then he saw him use his Transfiguration to conjure a small knife.
"Let's get back to the main point: who exactly is spying on me?"
Even wizards who possess magic are afraid of death.
By the time Sam brought in all the confiscated wands, Vincent already knew what he wanted to know.
Their gender is indistinguishable, but they are very generous with their money.
"That man also asked me about the Wayne family." The shop owner trembled and curled up.
"I think he must have hired you to deal with Wayne and his gang, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten so angry that you revealed your true colors."
All five fingers on his right hand were broken off, and all the nails on his left hand were neatly cut off.
Sam grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up.
"Take me to where you keep your 'goods'."
Is the Night Wraith after himself, Dream Killer is after the "goods"?
"The entrance is in the wine cellar downstairs."
Vincent frowned as soon as he entered.
The air was murky and smelled nauseating.
Sam in front lit his wand, which illuminated the oak barrels piled high with wood.
Most of them were rotten and decayed; that's probably where the smell comes from.
The shop owner, whose legs were not bound, stopped in front of a row of relatively new-looking wine barrels.
"The fourth one below."
Sam waved his wand, dispelling the defensive spells one by one to his astonishment.
"It's not just ordinary curses, but also Dark Magic items."
Each of these barrels was belching black smoke, which then burst into light blue flames.
The shop owner, his body stiff, forced an awkward smile.
"Your Excellency, the Dream Killer, I was just about to tell you how to—"
"I advise you not to harbor any illusions." Sam swept away the dust with his cane. "And you'd better not try to run away."
"Of course not, Your Excellencies."
There was a Scabbers Trapdoor on the ground.
Once it was opened, an even more disgusting smell, like that of a sewer, filled the air.
Vincent kicked the shop owner, who was behaving very humbly, and said, "I'm really looking forward to the tricks you're going to pull next."
"No, no, I wouldn't dare." He bowed and walked towards the Trapdoor.
"Even Lord Night Wraith uses the eldest son of the Rolle Family as a human punching bag, so a nobody like me certainly wouldn't dare to have any bad intentions."
"That fat pig?"
"Uh—it's him."
After another kick, the shop owner finally obediently crawled inside.
Inside was a narrow passage.
The further you go, the stronger the flavor becomes.
It wasn't just the smell that was unpleasant; there was also an evil aura far exceeding that of ordinary dark creatures.
Sam suddenly stopped. "You have quite a few guards, don't you?"
The shop owner at the front turned around and grinned maliciously, "Gentlemen, our world is cruel; we can't afford to be without a backup plan."
His voice was like a signal, causing the creatures at the end of the passage to stir.
The space was narrow, making it difficult to hide.
"Gentlemen, how about this—" He grinned, revealing his toothless mouth.
"I'll give you half of the 'goods,' and that's the end of it for today."
Vincent glanced at his watch. "Sorry, the initiative has always been with us."
"Kill them!"
The rough walls of the narrow passage seemed to wriggle toward them like living creatures.
"Expecto Patronum— " The tip of the ebony staff shone with golden light.
The wall writhed even more violently, as if it were struggling in pain.
"Impossible!" The shop owner collapsed to the ground, his lips trembling. "You absolutely could not have cast the Patronus Charm!"
Normally, this oldest and most powerful spell can only be used by good and righteous wizards.
If a dark wizard with an evil heart tries to use it, it will only cause the wand to backfire, summoning disgusting maggots to devour him.
Those who live in the Knockturn Alley, even if they are not extremely evil at heart, have long since abandoned useless kindness.
Those dark creatures writhing in agony on the walls are the last resort, an impregnable barrier that the dark wizards can never breach.
"Expecto Patronum— " A pale blue light shone from the tip of Sam's staff.
Even before they materialized, the dark creatures began to howl in agony.
"That's a pretty good trick."
The shop owner was truly scared this time.
The two people in front of him who used the Patronus Charm Spell were not the Night Wraith and Dream Killer he knew at all.