"Are you satisfied, madam?" Frick rubbed his hands together, moving closer to Madam Caroline with eagerness. "If you're not satisfied, I can return or exchange it for you free of charge, until you find the one you like best."
"Really?" Madam Caroline asked doubtfully, "These Skeleton Dog... aren't they this young gentleman's?"
She looked at Morris as she spoke.
"Ah, not anymore." Frick patted his chest and continued, "Madam, I went to great lengths to persuade this young man to sell the Skeleton Dog in my shop. It's all for you, and I can certainly give you a free Skeleton Dog as a gift!"
"Really?" Madam Caroline exclaimed, covering her empty mouth. "I'm so touched, Mr. Frick."
"But I'm sorry, I can't accept your gift."
Frick was somewhat disappointed upon hearing this, but quickly put on an even warmer smile, "Madam, you're too kind!"
He bowed slightly and said earnestly, "I completely understand how you feel. Please don't take this as a burden; it's just a personal token of my appreciation. What's wrong with friends exchanging gifts?"
Madam Caroline replied briefly, "Thank you, but really, it's not necessary."
Morris watched this scene from the side, turned his face away, and silently said to himself:
"Six!"
Is this what a "simp" is like?
This was the first time he had ever seen such a creature in real life.
Even more outrageous, the object of their licking was a skeleton.
This world is too magical.
Madam Caroline left immediately after purchasing her desired pet.
Morris turned to Frick, who looked dejected, and asked, " Mr. Frick, are you pursuing Madam Caroline?"
"Yes," Frick sighed softly, "What a noble lady... even her refusal was so graceful, unwilling to accept a gift that might bring controversy. I still remember the first time we met..."
Morris's lips twitched. "No need to say anything more, Frick. I'm not interested in your story."
However, Frick had already started talking to himself:
"It was a sunless night, with wind and rain, thunder and lightning..."
Seeing this, Morris quickly swept the Galleon on the counter into his backpack and turned to leave.
Let whoever wants to hear this story listen.
Regarding this money, Frick did not ask for a share, only charging thirty Galleon for the cost of the skeleton—after all, the Skeleton Dog was sold by Morris alone.
Afterwards, Morris, carrying a backpack bulging with Galleon, made a trip to Diagon Alley and visited several Potions supply stores.
When he returned to the Leaky Cauldron, it was already dark. Most of the Galleon in his bag had turned into Potions ingredients such as Asphodel Root, Valerian Root, and Sopophorous Bean.
These alone cost him nearly two hundred Galleon.
It has to be said, Potions are incredibly expensive.
Selling a Skeleton Dog is simply not enough to sustain the business for long.
Besides the necessary Draught of Living Death, he was also interested in many other Potions recipes.
Coincidentally, he was interested in the more advanced Potions.
The ingredients for basic Potions aren't necessarily cheap, but the ingredients for advanced Potions are always expensive.
Thinking about this, Morris felt a headache coming on.
Ultimately, he still needs money.
The next day, Morris visited Frick's shop and received some good news.
One of Frick's regular customers had reserved a Skeleton Dog.
This was undoubtedly a good omen, and it lifted Morris's spirits.
"That customer had quite the taste," Frick said, wiping a skull. "He said he wanted to make soup with Skeleton Dog."
Morris was taken aback. "Is this guy out of his mind?"
Frick shrugged. "I think so too... Oh, and please don't say that in front of the guests."
Morris did not speak.
Well, in his eyes, Frick himself also falls into the category of "having something wrong with his head."
However, it doesn't matter if you use Skeleton Dog to make soup.
He had already tried; boiling water did not harm the Skeleton Dog at all.
For the rest of the time, Morris and Frick chatted.
It mainly concerns topics related to Knockturn Alley.
Frick's description of Knockturn Alley was pretty much what Morris had imagined.
First of all, Knockturn Alley is a chaotic place, with both honest businessmen like Frick and those who make a living by cheating and swindling.
According to Frick, only half of the shops here are reliable.
As for the rest... even locals wouldn't easily set foot there.
In addition, Knockturn Alley has a "manager".
It was a small group, mainly composed of dark wizards, that barely maintained order here.
They set some simple rules, but rules are rigid, while people are flexible. As long as you have a good enough relationship with the "managers," you can do whatever you want in Knockturn Alley.
"Doesn't the Ministry of Magic care?" Morris asked curiously.
Frick chuckled. "Of course they can't control it, but they can't manage it all. The 'managers' of Knockturn Alley have a delicate relationship with the officials of the Ministry of Magic. You know, some deals aren't easy to do in the open, but there are always people who need them."
Morris nodded.
As expected.
The Wizarding World definitely needs such a place.
He then asked, "Who exactly are those 'managers'?"
Frick placed the polished skull on the shelf, his tone laced with disdain. "A bunch of scum. Dark wizards, ex-convicts, some even hardened criminals on the run. They rely on their ruthlessness, or some dubious support behind the scenes, to form gangs, seize this territory, collect protection money, and mediate disputes—of course, it's all about money and connections."
"You sound like you hate them," Morris said.
"Hmm." Frick nodded matter-of-factly. "They've taken plenty of Galleon from me."
Suddenly, his expression turned serious, and he said, " Black, I advise you not to even think about getting involved in this mess. It's a high-risk job; every now and then, the 'managers' are replaced."
Morris chuckled. "What do you take me for? I'm just an eleven-year-old wizard. I don't think about those things. I just want to run my little business quietly."
"That would be best," Frick said.
He still remembered the scene when Morris attacked Krenk and his two companions.
An ordinary junior wizard wouldn't be so clean and efficient.
It's already good enough if they don't wet their pants.
"Jingle!"
Just then, the doorbell rang.
A figure dressed in a black robe appeared at the doorway.
Morris quickly conjured a bone mask on his face to conceal his identity.
Frick stretched.
The guests have arrived; let's prepare to receive them.