The Entrance to Diagon Alley.
Shawn watched as Kreacher tapped a brick wall a few times, and he immediately witnessed a classic scene from the Harry Potter world.
The brick wall parted right down the middle, then rolled back to both sides like a cylinder, the stacked bricks coming alive like building blocks. How stress-relieving! This made Shawn's heart surge with excitement.
Inspiration exploded within him, and he mentally simulated a scene replaced with playing cards, feeling it should be even cooler.
Once an archway opened up in the wall, it revealed a cobblestone-paved street that twisted and turned forward until it disappeared from sight.
All sorts of shops lined both sides of the street, many of them featuring Victorian architectural styles from a hundred or more years ago. As for those bizarre window display cases, some sold cauldrons, some sold pets, and some sold books.
Various people wearing pointed wizard hats hurried through the street. This medieval-style tableau left Shawn somewhat dumbfounded.
Magic is amazing, but the Wizarding World is still too insular.
A certain notion quietly formed in his mind.
Shawn and Kreacher casually looked around at the eccentric shops on both sides, making their way all the way to a striking snow-white building.
"Master, this is Gringotts."
Ever since Shawn destroyed Slytherin's Locket and fulfilled Regulus's final wish, Kreacher had changed how he addressed Shawn to "Master," dropping the word "Young."
Shawn looked at the Gringotts building, which was much taller than the surrounding structures. In front of the gleaming bronze doors stood goblins wearing crimson and gold uniforms, projecting an air of absolute prestige.
Sure enough, it was the same in any world: bankers were always the most overbearing.
He even mentally complained about whether wizards had something wrong with their brains-why hand over this kind of economic lifeline to non-humans?
Later on, he learned that this was something they had to do.
Shawn ignored the warning signs beside the doors, walking straight into the luxurious hall built of marble. Catching sight of the towering service counters on either side that forced him to look up, he felt even more awkward inside.
This layout definitely hinted at certain ulterior motives of the goblins.
He was still weak for now, and such matters were not his to manage.
Shawn made no superfluous movements, simply maintaining his elegance. At the very least, his aura could not falter.
Kreacher took a key from his pocket and, with an arrogant expression, spoke to an elderly goblin who was weighing gemstones with a scale.
"The young master of the Black family is here to make a withdrawal. Vault 666."
The elderly goblin raised his head, leaned forward, and adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles with a hand. After clearly seeing the black-haired Shawn, he said with apparent regret.
"It's been over ten years. How does the Black family have another heir?"
The old goblin wore a pained expression, as if the wealth belonging to them had been snatched away by someone.
And this was indeed a possibility. If Sirius in Azkaban didn't get out and die in there, the Black family's vault would become ownerless property, transforming in disguise into the goblins' possessions. Give it a hundred years, and no one would raise an objection even if the goblins took it out. This wasn't the first or second time they had done such a thing.
Shawn was very displeased, exceptionally displeased.
Pulling out a little notebook...
Never mind, the small goals he had set for today seemed a bit too numerous.
Afterward, he followed a goblin named Griphook along a narrow stone passage to the entrance of the underground vaults, subsequently boarding the utterly thrilling "mad minecart."
Then came various left and right turns, like wandering around inside a maze. The fierce wind whipped into Shawn's eyes, making it impossible to open them. He figured this might also be a security measure; if you couldn't see, naturally you couldn't remember the route.
The goblins were so damn cunning!
He tried casting a Shield Charm to block the wind, but it failed because he simply couldn't concentrate his mind.
Regarding this Gringotts withdrawal experience, Shawn grew increasingly dissatisfied. Wasn't it said that depositors were treated like royalty?
Just as he was about to hold back his vomit and hurl, the little cart slowly stopped in front of a vault platform, and a roar of a dragon echoed from overhead.
Shawn knew that was an imprisoned and tamed dragon.
Griphook took the vault key handed over by Kreacher, and after a series of operations, the vault's dark, heavy doors emitted a sequence of mechanical clicking sounds before slowly opening, revealing a blaze of golden light.
Shawn peered inside and couldn't help swallowing hard, his expression resembling the protagonist in The Richest Man in Tomato City upon seeing one billion in cash.
"I really am a tycoon. I've struck it rich."
Shawn wasn't the only one swallowing hard. Griphook, who was helping open the door, had drool dripping all the way down to the ground from the corner of his mouth, the greed in his eyes extremely spine-chilling.
It took a long time for Shawn to calm his emotions. It wasn't that he lacked ambition; anyone who went from poverty to sudden wealth would look like this.
Kreacher was the most composed of all. He reached out and shoved Griphook aside, only then bowing to invite Shawn.
"Master, please enter."
After taking a deep breath, Shawn stepped forward to go inside.
In the middle of the vault, a mountain of Galleons made it impossible for him to keep his eyes open. All kinds of alchemical products glowing with magical light and precious alchemical materials were arranged on the large iron shelves around the walls, and right at the very back sat a large ebony wooden chest.
"Kreacher, how many Galleons do you think are in here?"
"Master, I don't know this either. I estimate there are at least two to three hundred thousand Galleons."
"Hah."
Shawn couldn't help but gasp in a breath of cold air once more. He was well aware of the purchasing power of Galleons within the Wizarding World.
An ordinary Ministry of Magic employee's salary was roughly between 50 and 100 Galleons per month.
Take the Weasley family, for instance. Arthur Weasley worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, and a salary of 60 Galleons a month was enough to support a large family.
Or take Ollivander's, where a wand-an essential item for a wizard-cost a mere 7 Galleons. Even without a student discount price, at the very most it wouldn't exceed 15 Galleons.
No wonder Sirius later didn't bat an eye when sending Harry Potter a Christmas gift of a Firebolt costing thousands of Galleons.
Shawn waved a lavish, overbearing hand!
"Kreacher, pack the money! Pack a few thousand first to use as pocket money."
Kreacher had no objections. Using a pouch he had brought from the ancestral home upon which an Undetectable Extension Charm had been cast, he began continuously loading money.
Shawn didn't understand alchemical products, so he went straight to the very back to see what was packed inside that large wooden chest.
After opening the wooden chest and taking inventory, he finally figured out what kind of good things were inside.
They were all sorts of magical contracts. Some Shawn couldn't understand at all, some were in foreign languages, and some directly appeared to be Runes.
Shawn flipped through the ones he could understand. There were commercial shop industries, residential manors, and certain covenants forged with other Pure-blood families.
The industries were divided into full shares and partial stakes. In commercial districts like Diagon Alley, some remote potion-ingredient cultivation sites, dragon-breeding reserves, and so on, the Black family held equity and dividends, while some were even 100% owned investments.
Among them, broom companies like Nimbus, Cleansweep, and Flying were also businesses where the Black family held shares.
Most importantly, there was a contract regarding a School Governor seat at Hogwarts.