"Bang."
Firecrackers blasted.
Damon and Kingsley appeared on the streets of East London.
Disguising themselves briefly, they changed into their usual black robes, hooded heads, and headed for the black market.
"My lord, not all the Aurors who attended the meeting just now are on our side. Perhaps the news has leaked."
This was one of the reasons he hadn't spoken publicly.
Of course, the main reason was fear of Caliban's embarrassment—what if he truly feared the power behind him and didn't prepare to take action? Fortunately, he remained as reassuringly tough as ever.
"It doesn't matter. The black market is there, there's no escaping it. We'll observe the reactions of those inside. If they get the news, their response will naturally be different. Then, when we return, we'll just focus on catching the traitor."
"If a fight breaks out, remember to find a place to hide. Don't force yourself."
"Don't worry, my lord. I'm quite capable and won't cause you any trouble,"
Kingsley said modestly, determined to fight Damon to the bitter end.
How could his strength be anything like what he claimed? Even in the post-Voldemort era, his strength wasn't the strongest, but his accomplishments were undoubtedly the most.
While the upcoming battle would be dangerous, he had nothing to worry about with Damon by his side.
"The black market here operates on a referral basis. Without a familiar guide, you can't enter. What are you going to do next?"
"Do you know someone who can enter the black market? Show me their appearance."
"No, but Minister Fudge can certainly."
Kingsley saw Lord Caliban suddenly sneer.
"Then let's go with him."
Damon grasped and released his right hand, and a ball of flesh-colored silicone suddenly appeared in his hand, rapidly deforming, eventually transforming into a thin, human-skin mask resembling Fudge.
He pressed it to his face and looked back at Kingsley, the sound emanating from his throat now as shrill as a rat's—just like Fudge's.
"How's this? Are they similar?"
"Well, the eyebrows could be thicker, and the eye sockets deeper—you're so handsome. Fudge's face, with your eyes and your demeanor, looks more respectable."
"Can you help me adjust it? I think you can do it?"
"Of course."
Kingsley glanced around, making sure no Muggles were watching them.
"Don't look. I've used the Disillusionment Charm. Not only Muggles, but even wizards can't see us."
"Yes."
Reassured, Kingsley focused on helping Damon adjust his face—after some effort, he finally resembled Fudge about 70%—he'd done his best.
Fudge's demeanor was vastly different from Damon's.
If the two stood together, the former would look like a disgusting and filthy politician, while the latter would be like a renowned head of state. Simply by standing there, saying nothing, the people would know who to vote for.
If the black market gatekeepers were familiar with Fudge, they would be instantly visible.
"Okay, but I think the chances of fooling everyone with this alone are slim."
"It doesn't matter. It was just a rough estimate. Just use the Confusion Charm to clear the way."
"By the way—" he asked casually, as if remembering something, "Can you use the Imperius Curse?"
"I can, my lord."
Kingsley's tone was a little hesitant.
"Proficient?"
"Mastered."
"Okay. If I've missed any, you can fill them in for me later."
"Yes,"
Kingsley agreed quickly, but he knew that when Caliban took action, he wouldn't need to do anything. Once Caliban cast a spell, the movement would be world-shattering. A common spell like the Confusion Charm could be cast with just a glance, so why would he need to add anything?
The two reached the corner of the block and saw a grimy black wall covered in colorful graffiti and spray paint.
"Is this it?"
"Yes, this is the entrance. You need the 'key' to get in. I know the key. Once we're inside, we'll be checked immediately. Please be prepared."
"Begin."
Kingsley nodded, extending his wand and tapping three times at the spot on the wall where the skull's eyes were painted. With the infusion of magic, the golden skull eyes suddenly moved and saw the two people in front of the wall.
"Fudge? What are you doing here?"
A deep voice rang out, and the golden eyeballs turned into gold paint and fell on the wall. The wall before them suddenly began to disintegrate, revealing a small hole in the middle, just big enough for one person to enter.
Kingsley stopped his warnings—from this moment on, he was Fudge's henchman.
Facing the dark, all-consuming pit, Damon remained composed, not even a wand in hand, as he plunged right in. His actions reassured those observing from behind—a wizard without a wand posed no threat.
Kingsley followed closely behind—unable to match Damon's boldness, he followed with his wand in hand, crawling into the passageway behind him—befitting his position as a guard, after all.
"Are you new here?"
He emerged from the tunnel when he saw two wizards speaking to Fudge, their gaze fixed on him.
The darkness was complete, and he could only vaguely make out the two figures shrouded in black robes, their beak-shaped masks giving them a chilling look.
"My close comrade's son, I'm bringing him out to see the world. You don't mind, do you?"
Fudge smiled at the two, a glint of purple in his eyes.
The next moment, their conversation became muddled.
"That's against the rules—but since it's you, forget it—there's an auction today. Is that why you're here?"
"Of course. What else could tempt me? Would you take me?"
"Tsk, that's a bother, but sure. I'll do you the favor."
Has control been successfully achieved?
Kingsley relaxed slightly, his wand twitching imperceptibly as he cast a spell—Ten Thousand Mile Tracking.
This spell revealed the location of everyone within a hundred-meter radius.
There were two more hidden stakes, one in the tower. However, he didn't think Caliban needed his reminder.
The two continued forward, passing through a narrow, straight corridor. Three more passages appeared before them—each leading to a different destination. Except for being much wider than the previous corridor, they were identical in other respects.
There were railroad tracks on the ground, seemingly allowing for magical mine carts to reach other locations.
"I'll drop you off here. You can take this minecart to wherever you want to go—I assume you don't want me to become your servant, do you?"
The voice behind the beak mask rang out again, and Kingsley knew he was mocking him.
"Of course not. Thank you for taking me here."
Damon said goodbye to the beak doctor with a smile and looked into the dark passage—from
his sight, the end of the passage was a spacious underground palace.
What would these beasts be auctioning off?
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(End of this chapter)