Ian watched the enforcement team leave, lost in thought. Security here appeared to be quite strict, and highly efficient as well. This made him more cautious about his plan to "visit" the Ministry of Magic tonight. After all, judging by the quality of these enforcers, the African Ministry of Magic was probably not to be underestimated.
Of course, to Ian, these people were not particularly strong, but proper caution was still necessary—after all, a true master always kept the heart of an apprentice.
Ian rather enjoyed using that saying to describe himself now.
It was both a reminder.
And perhaps a form of Versailles.
After the enforcers swiftly escorted away the two incompetent wizards who had caused trouble, the marketplace was like a lake struck by a small stone. The ripples quickly subsided, and the place returned to its previous bustle and clamor. The onlookers dispersed amid chatter, many wearing expressions of schadenfreude or indifference.
Such incidents were clearly not all that rare.
"Makulu and Kafu are really done for this time. They won't get out without losing a layer of skin," said a wizard in a snakeskin cloak quietly to his companion, his eyes gleaming with delight. "Those Ministry people love their 'interrogation tax'—if you don't hand over enough Gold Coins, don't even think about leaving alive."
"Gold Coins? That's hardly all," the other person sneered. "I heard someone caused trouble last month and had thirty percent of his lifespan drained outright. He became a walking corpse and is still sweeping floors in Silent Tower."
"Serves him right. He provoked Red Eye Baruka and still thought he could walk away unharmed?"
"Exactly. Doesn't Baruka smuggle Rocket Launchers himself? Yet he's still thriving in the Ministry of Magic."
"Anyway, I think they'll be fined at least this much!" A wizard