Mysterious Maneuver

"Have they found Ithius?"

"No. He's disappeared, and the Tracking Magic we left on him has stopped working."

"Keep looking. That bastard must pay for this."

"Now isn't the time to go after Ithius."

"Damn it. We never should have let an outsider handle this."

"Didn't you agree to it too?"

The meeting room had already descended into chaos. None of the "big shots" seated there had expected to be toyed with by such a "small fry."

Just then, the meeting room door was suddenly thrown open, and a panting wizard rushed inside, shouting, "The Gold Award! The Gold Award has been announced!"

"Who was it?"

"Who got the Gold Award?"

Everyone in the meeting room shot to their feet, staring anxiously at the breathless wizard. They practically wanted to hit the man who kept talking in half-sentences with a Cruciatus Curse.

"It was No. 17." The wizard looked miserable. "The youngest contestant, No. 17, won the championship and the Gold Award."

In an instant, the "big shots" in the meeting room seemed to lose all their bones and collapsed back into their chairs.

How could an underage wizard possibly win the Gold Award?

Impossible!

No matter what, they refused to believe it.

"No. 17 is a Muggle-born wizard. How could he possibly win the Gold Award? We should file a formal complaint with the International Wizarding Federation," someone shouted furiously. To their surprise, the proposal immediately won the others' support.

"The wizards who won their bets will be coming to collect their winnings soon," the wizard who had brought the news quietly reminded them.

The person in charge of the betting pool looked at the people before him, drew a deep breath, and said to the wizard beside him, "Have the winning wizards come redeem their prizes in batches."