Without a discount, buying one from the shop cost him ten points of Power of Emotion.
Lorne felt he would be taking a loss even if he sold it for a hundred Galleons.
But he wanted everyone to be able to afford one. After all, his goal was still to harvest Power of Emotion.
It could not be too cheap, either. A product as sophisticated as the Magic Mobile Phone naturally had to take the high-end route. Besides, he still had his debt to Hogwarts and food for the Centaurs to pay for.
The cheapest wand cost seven Galleons, a glass of Butterbeer cost one Silver Sickle, one Galleon equaled seventeen Silver Sickles, and one Silver Sickle equaled twenty-nine Knuts-what kind of bizarre exchange rate was that?
Lorne would rather spend another whole night working on game stats than calculate the purchasing power of a Galleon and a Silver Sickle.
"Whatever, I'll sell it for eight Galleons, eight Silver Sickles, and eight Knuts. Even if foreigners don't have that lucky homophone for eight, I'll still market it as the luckiest number!"
Fed up with the calculations, Lorne hastily settled on a price without giving any thought to the storm of public opinion his pricing would unleash.
That evening, Lorne opened his system's quest tab.
[Quest: Collect Power of Emotion from people of your kind] [Progress: 670/800]
The past few days of buildup and today's tournament had earned Lorne over three hundred points of Power of Emotion!
Lorne really wanted to spend some to celebrate his victory, but he held back.
All he needed to do next was keep the shop running normally. Reaching the eight-hundred mark when school started would not be a problem.
But Lorne needed to consider another problem.
He was selling Magic Mobile Phones, not magical game consoles. His customers were not just young people and children, but also elderly people who did not want to move around and working adults. He needed to create an app that everyone needed.
Demand for this app was even more pressing than for the educational search engine Quirrell was working on.
The answer was actually obvious: an app that allowed real-time chatting and sharing snippets of daily life.
It was not as though the Wizarding World had nothing like this. The Two-Way Mirror, which allowed two-way conversations over long distances, was one example. But perhaps because the craftsmanship involved was too advanced, it had never circulated widely on the market.
Making a chat app would be simple enough for Lorne. The thing would not even need a whole storage component, but his chat app had a fatal flaw.
Its range was limited.
The same applied to friends' online status and chat in Wizard Legend on the Magic Mobile Phone. These features would only work reliably when the two Magic Mobile Phones were no more than two hundred meters apart.
But if you were within two hundred meters, couldn't I just Apparate over to you?
Although not everyone knew Apparition, and it could not be used in every situation, even walking would only take a few minutes. Why bother using a Magic Mobile Phone?
Lorne had to solve this problem, but at the moment, he had no idea where to start.
Magic Mobile Phones were fundamentally the result of gears and electronic components capable of carrying magic emerging in later years, combined with research into and deciphering of Ancient Magic, which had led to the rapid rise of the new discipline of magical arrays. Honestly, Lorne did not think he had what it took to develop an app that required innovation.
What a headache.
At the Weasley family's dinner table.
Arthur wiped his hands with a handkerchief, looked at the children still chattering nonstop at the table, and dropped a bombshell.
"I almost bought a Magic Mobile Phone today."
One, two, three, four, five heads turned toward him in unison, making Arthur feel a little unnerved. Still, he continued, "Today, I went to see Director Lorne, whom you're always talking about. He's opened a shop in Diagon Alley that specializes in Magic Mobile Phones."
"Have you got the money, Dad?" Fred exposed him without a second's hesitation.
Arthur, however, turned a deaf ear and continued at his leisurely pace. "We had a lovely chat. Unfortunately, Magic Mobile Phones aren't on sale yet. Otherwise, you would certainly have seen me crushing everyone in Street Wizard Fighter."
"Street Wizard Fighter?"
The children, who had not yet been out to Diagon Alley that holiday, all asked at once. From the name, it sounded like a game similar to Wizard Legend.
Ron felt he was being left behind by the times.
"God, when school starts and Harry and Hermione talk about all this, I'll only be able to sit there listening like a Troll, and hear them talk about how an old man like me has been left an entire Hogwarts Express line behind the times."
He even pleaded right there at the dinner table, "Please, Dad, don't give me a birthday present this year. Save all that money instead. I hope I can get a Magic Mobile Phone before I graduate from Hogwarts."
"Only yesterday, you said you wanted to replace your wand first," Fred scoffed.
George joined in the mockery. "Little Ronnie's a big liar. No wonder his nose grew longer yesterday."
"That was because you tricked me into eating Long-Nose Toffee," Ron accused them. "And I still haven't settled the score with you over the Ton-Tongue Toffee from the day before."
Mrs. Weasley, Molly, struck the table hard with her spoon and sternly addressed the twins. "No using overly dangerous items on your family."
Arthur was still sighing wistfully. "If only I could make something as sophisticated as a Magic Mobile Phone in my lifetime..."
"Then we'd be rich!" Ginny finished for Arthur.
"That's right, darling." Arthur happily left the table.
Ron remained sunk in his sorrow, unable to pull himself out. He could not imagine how happy Harry must be, carrying a Magic Mobile Phone around with him now.
Magic Mobile Phones and holidays were supposed to be a perfect match!
Privet Drive.
Harry's days were not too bad, but they were not as good as Ron imagined, either.
Following Director Lorne's advice, he had exchanged some Galleons for pounds and brought them back.
Although Aunt Petunia still told him fiercely that it was only his parents' inheritance, and that the Dursley family deserved it for looking after and raising him, he had a place at the dinner table that very evening. Though he could only eat the beans set in front of him, Harry was already quite content.
Vernon brought Dudley home a game console.
Dudley sat on the sofa, showing it off smugly to Harry, but Harry dismissed it.
Poor graphics, bulky equipment, single-player only, and no save function-with a Magic Mobile Phone of his own, Harry really could not think much of a product like that.
Back in his room, Harry sat on the bed. Over the past month, he had practically played himself numb to his Magic Mobile Phone. His daily task was to lie in bed playing on it.
Vernon forbade him from going downstairs without permission, and his friends at Hogwarts never sent him letters. He felt as though he had returned to that storm-battered island a year ago, without a friend or relative in sight.
Unfortunately, there was no Hagrid or Director Lorne rowing a little boat to rescue him this time.
The Magic Mobile Phone's screen was lit up, with Harry firmly holding first place on the leaderboard. He knew he could not find any online notifications from his friends here. His amusement lay in opening every name on the leaderboard to see whether their combat power had changed.
Neville was there every day, Hermione only logged on once every few days, and Draco... his last login had been seven days ago.
"Sigh, why hasn't school started yet? I really want to go back."
Harry sighed despondently, but a shrill voice suddenly came from behind him.
"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"