The Vault Off-Limits

An hour later, Roy changed into a luxurious outfit and swaggered through the doors of Gringotts Bank.

Professor McGonagall had prepared this extravagant attire for him. Roy had never returned it after the start-of-term feast, and Professor McGonagall had never asked for it back.

The moment Gringotts' employees saw such an expensively dressed customer enter, the Goblins, who were best at judging people by their appearance, immediately crowded around him with enthusiasm.

"Hello, esteemed customer. Would you like to apply for a loan or access your vault?"

Roy deliberately put on an arrogant air, looking exactly like one of those useless pure-blood noble brats from Slytherin. He seemed not to regard Goblins as people at all and showed utter disdain for their service. Casually tossing out a vault Key, he said imperiously to the clerk who approached him,

"Polish my shoes—cough, cough, cough—no, get your manager out here."

"I am the manager. May I ask what you need?"

An elderly Goblin came down from behind the counter with a placating smile. After taking Roy's Key and looking at it, his attitude immediately became even more respectful.

Roy's vault came with the highest tier of service in all of Gringotts. It was the equivalent of a black card in the Muggle world, a symbol of both wealth and status.

Roy's vault was not short on Galleons. Whether it was the income from Wizard Auto Chess or the various prizes Roy had received, everything was piled inside Vault 1145. There were several small mountains of it, enough for Roy to live comfortably for half his life.

"I want to inspect the access records for my vault. Who has accessed it recently?"

Hearing that Roy was neither depositing money nor taking out a loan, the Goblin manager's attitude immediately worsened. Still, his professionalism