"Not… human?" Ollivander was dumbfounded.
The strengthening that came with becoming a Dark Assassin was self-evident.
Dark Assassins were monsters whose arms could carry the weight of a horse, whose fists could support a man standing on them. Three punches could kill a tiger, one punch could shatter a normal wizard's Shield Charm, two would knock them unconscious, three would send them to the afterlife.
But beyond physical enhancement, what truly mattered was the accidental strengthening of his magic.
Under the crushing pressure of the black mist, all of Ollivander's magic had been forced to converge in his brain, sharpening his mind and giving him unprecedented mastery over magical control.
And then there was the most terrifying part: Dark Assassins were essentially immortal.
As long as the Black Mist Sorcerer who created them still lived, the assassin would never die.
"So even though your life and death are in my hands, and I can torment you whenever I please, you've gained a power that would've been unimaginable before. If you think about it carefully, you've actually profited."
Louis lounged in his chair opposite Ollivander, sipping his tea with a calm air. He even poured a cup for the old wandmaker.
"Here, have some green tea. Good for lowering blood pressure."
Ollivander's face twitched. His blood pressure was indeed soaring—but now, no matter how high it spiked, he couldn't even faint. What once might have burst a vessel in his brain now felt like nothing but a drizzle.
Things had reached the point of no return. Helplessly, Ollivander sighed.
"This time I've truly lost everything."
"You haven't lost," Louis waved casually. "Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't bother coveting your wealth anyway. Do business as you always have. I won't meddle."
Louis leaned back. "Understand this: I only did this to ensure my own safety."
Ollivander rolled his eyes.
"By the way," Louis asked suddenly, "could you custom-make me a wand? Doesn't have to be the traditional type… maybe a bit longer. If it had some extendable function, that'd be even better."
"Stop joking. That's not a wand—that's a cane!" Ollivander glared at him. "And didn't you just promise not to meddle?"
"This is just a reasonable customer request," Louis shrugged. "Besides, you still owe me for scamming me with that fake wand for fifteen Galleons."
"You've got some nerve!" Ollivander nearly exploded. "Because of that measly fifteen Galleons, I ended up losing my entire life!"
"Calm down, old man. Show some dignity, the same way you do when you're tricking others." Louis noisily slurped his tea. "I'm not joking. I really do need a wand."
"But you don't even use magic! You've got no gift for it either—so what would you need a wand for?" Ollivander looked at him like he was deranged.
That monstrous strength of his was already terrifying enough—why play at being a child? For a moment Ollivander even wondered if Louis was some ancient wizard who had rejuvenated himself just to toy with others.
"I need a wand that can channel my black mist magic."
Louis let a swirling ball of black haze form in his palm. The sight alone made Ollivander's nerves tighten until he jumped from his seat.
"Relax. I'm not about to slap you with it." Louis rolled his eyes.
"You literally did slap me with that just now!" Ollivander roared, though after a moment he sat back down. After all, being remade as a Dark Assassin had left him with a strange affinity for the black mist—he no longer feared it as much.
"In short, I need a wand that can guide black mist," Louis said, letting the haze dissipate. "You now possess both black mist and magical power, and you've always had the gift of wandcraft. This shouldn't be too difficult for you."
"Yes… the design itself won't be hard. The main challenge will be stability."
Once the subject turned to his craft, Ollivander immediately became serious and dependable again.
"Since you've made it clear, I'll do it. Don't worry—I'll craft you the perfect wand."
With that, he stood up, already ready to get to work.
"You're not going to measure anything first?" Louis was stunned. Wait a second—this old fox isn't trying to trick me again, is he? Last time I picked a wand he even measured the distance between my nostrils, and now he needs nothing?
"Oh, those measurements for wands don't actually matter much. Just for show," Ollivander replied casually.
"…You've got to be kidding me." Louis stared speechlessly at Ollivander, who was already busying himself with work. After a moment, he said, "Don't just bury yourself in wand-making—remember to train your new abilities, too."
"I'll get around to that later." Having entered his work mode, Ollivander didn't care in the least about master or servant. With a wave of his hand, he briskly dismissed Louis: "Go on, stop disturbing me."
"You've got to be…" Louis rolled his eyes. Did I recruit a subordinate or did I hire a boss?
Well, whatever. The man was working seriously, generating income—Louis couldn't really complain about someone making profit on his behalf. Might as well leave him to it.
"Wait—actually, I can't go yet." Louis suddenly remembered something. "Garrick, you've got channels for buying and selling magical creature materials, right?"
"Of course. Plenty of them. Why do you ask?" Ollivander replied offhandedly.
"Oh, I've got a steady supply of Acromantula venom. Help me sell it off, I'll cut you in later."
"Steady supply of Acromantula venom?" Ollivander turned and looked up at Louis. "Got a sample? Let me see."
"Here." Louis tossed him a vial filled with venom.
Ollivander snatched it deftly out of the air—only to crush it instantly in his grip.
The venom splashed onto his hand and the floor, hissing as corrosive white smoke rose up.
"…Looks like you'll need to get used to your new body before you can start wand-making," Louis remarked, watching as Ollivander's arm blackened rapidly before just as quickly returning to normal.
"You're right." Ollivander nodded, examining his hand where the poisoned flesh was already vanishing at an incredible rate. "I should first accustom myself to this miraculous body. I feel like I can be far bolder with my experiments from now on."
"Emmm, well—that's your freedom." Louis pulled out another vial of venom, one of the many he'd collected over several days. His storage still held more than twenty bottles. "Want to check the quality again?"
"No need. I've already experienced it firsthand." Ollivander gestured toward his hand. "The quality's good. Through my contacts, one pint goes for about a hundred and twenty Galleons. Not expensive, since most of my suppliers trade on favors—prices stay low that way."
"Not bad." Louis nodded. Stability was the true advantage of Ollivander's channels. "Alright then, sell all of these for me."
He set twenty bottles down in front of Ollivander.
That was everything—twenty-two in total. Ollivander had crushed one, so twenty-one remained.
A haul worth 2,520 Galleons.
"This much?" Ollivander was shocked. "Where in the world did you find so many Acromantulas?"
"The Forbidden Forest."
"Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest has such dangerous creatures?" Ollivander's eyes went wide.
"Dangerous? They're fine. They all stay deep in the forest and rarely come out."
"…Alright, never mind. If it's you, I suppose it doesn't matter where they are—they're not dangerous to you at all."
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