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Chapter 40: looting

“Oh, how could that be? You children, why do you all think so badly of people?”

While Mr. Pippin said this, his body honestly returned behind the counter and took out the agreed-upon sum of remuneration for them.

He counted the pile of Galleons one by one in front of Weilan.

Weilan winked at Hermione, who stepped forward, took the remuneration, and handed over the Goblin metal.

Mr. Pippin’s hands trembled as he caressed the surface of the mechanical tool, seemingly muttering something:

“Small losses, big gains, I’ve made a fortune this time. Goblin metal, it’s worth at least a thousand Galleons…”

Weilan pretended not to hear.

As a detective, he had already submitted the crucial clues required by his employer.

As for whether the employer would follow the clues to continue the investigation or sell them for money, that was the employer’s business.

Weilan only needed to confirm that the employer had not cheated him on his remuneration.

He lingered in the Potion shop, personally reconfirming the amount of remuneration, while Hermione went to the Magical Creatures shop to return Old Ciwei.

Mr. Pippin ignored them.

His mind was completely fixated on the cold, gleaming metal tool, as if enchanted, his fingers constantly caressing the protrusions and depressions on the tool.

Suddenly, he seemed to press a button.

“Click, click!”

“Whoosh—”

At the front of the tool, a device the size of an adult’s palm, resembling a bird’s claw, opened to its maximum and was ejected.

A long rope was connected to the metal bird’s claw, and as the claw leaped into the air, the rope stretched with a whooshing sound.

After the rope stretched to about 10 feet in length, the bird’s claw flew to its furthest extent, gripping a ball of air. Then the long rope automatically retracted with a rustling sound, and the bird’s claw, grasping the air, pulled back.

The tool returned to its original state.

Hermione returned from outside.

“Let’s go.”

While Weilan was counting the Galleons, he also witnessed Mr. Pippin toying with the tool throughout. He shook the money bag in his hand, making a rustling sound.

Ron pointed at the tool in Mr. Pippin’s hand:

“That thing…”

Weilan and Hermione simultaneously stepped on the tip of Ron’s shoe, shaking their heads imperceptibly at him.

Using Floo powder again, they returned to the Gryffindor common room.

Fred and George were in the common room selling their prank items. Weilan was fortunate enough to become the spokesperson for Dr. Filius Flitwick’s self-igniting, water-blooming fireworks.

The twins vividly described how Weilan had secretly purchased a large batch of these fireworks from them in the middle of the night.

They also claimed that Weilan bought these fireworks to use as tools in his fight against criminal forces.

Their statements made Weilan curl his toes in embarrassment.

“This is too ridiculous, will students really buy it because of this…”

Just as he was silently complaining, a group of young Wizards erupted in thunderous cheers.

“So cool! Is Weilan the big brother who solved the poisoning case on the first day of school?”

“I want to buy!”

“I want to fight against the evil force Filch!”

Weilan held his breath, his face turning a liver-like purple, and pulled Ron from the center of the common room to an inconspicuous corner.

Weilan began to explain to Ron why he shouldn’t have talked so much at the Potion shop:

“This is a merchant who loves to take small advantages. No matter how much we persuade him, it will be useless.”

“If Mr. Pippin has immediate monetization channels, then that’s great.”

“If not, heh heh, then I wish him good luck…”

“In the Goblins’ concept, they believe that whoever creates a tool is its permanent owner.”

“Furthermore, this is also an extremely vengeful race.”

“If Mr. Pippin cannot quickly resell that Goblin metal, then he will likely be visited by Goblins in a few days.”

Hermione added, “Besides, we’ve already found out the most important information—”

“That is, the Goblin ruins hidden at the border of Fetterot and Croft County!”

“We must tell Dumbledore about this immediately.”

That night, they wrote a report detailing everything they had seen and heard on this outing and sent it to Dumbledore via the pig.

At night, Weilan lay on his four-poster bed with its curtains drawn, feeling drowsy.

Ron’s voice sounded in the darkness:

“Oh, by the way, I suddenly wanted to ask, we still have one question unsolved, right?”

“What?”

“Why were the owls flying to Croft County fine, but the owls flying to Fetterot had their goods plundered?”

Weilan yawned and slowly explained the matter to Ron:

“Do you remember the maximum distance the bird’s claw at the front of that tool shot out when Mr. Pippin tested it?”

“About… 10 feet? That’s quite long.”

“But for an owl soaring high in the sky, that’s not the case. 10 feet is a very close distance to the ground.”

“Only owls that need to land in Fetterot will be within 10 feet of the ground. And owls going to Croft County are still high in the sky when they pass through Fetterot!”

“Oh—”

Ron’s confusion was resolved, he turned over in the darkness, and soon a steady snore began.

Weilan thought the matter was over, after all, he believed that since Mr. Pippin dared to keep that Goblin metal, he must have his own monetization channels.

The next day, Dumbledore replied, stating that he had received the report and would visit the ruins for an initial investigation in the coming days.

But on Saturday morning, an owl delivered an urgent letter to Weilan, who was having breakfast in the Great Hall.

Mr. Pippin’s Potion shop was robbed this morning by someone, or perhaps Goblins!

All the Potions, including that Goblin metal, were stolen.

Mr. Pippin again requested their help in finding the robbers, promising a generous reward of 100 Galleons.

“No,” Weilan said, sitting at the Great Hall’s long table, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “He really doesn’t have an immediate way to monetize it, does he?”

“Are we still going?” Hermione hesitated. “I have a strong feeling it was the Goblins.”

“No need to feel, it definitely was.” Weilan untied a money bag from the leg of the arriving owl; it contained a 10 Galleon deposit.

The owl flapped its wings and flew away.

Weilan weighed the money bag, then raised his determined gaze:

“Yes, we’re going.”

“Because this is a sure-win deal.”

“He didn’t say we had to catch the robbers. We just need to help him find out who robbed the shop.”

“Money isn’t the issue; the issue is that this robbery of the Potion shop must have caused a huge stir.”

“If we can help Mr. Pippin identify the robbers, then we can establish the detective agency’s reputation from now on.”

“However, just in case, Ron, we’d best get some items from your two brothers.”

They spent 5 Galleons to purchase a batch of Filius Flitwick fireworks, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, Dungbombs, and three Shocking Handshakes from the Weasley brothers.

Fred and George felt like they had stumbled upon a major patron.

After Weilan left with his bulging backpack, they looked at the Galleons they had earned and couldn’t stop grinning.

“This is great.” George suggested to his brother, “I think we should establish a long-term partnership with Weilan. That way, it won’t be long before we save enough money to open a ‘Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’.”

“This path is safer, but it will take at least two or three years.”

Fred was still preoccupied with the Triwizard Tournament: “If we win the Triwizard Tournament, the 1000 Galleon prize money could make our dream come true immediately.”

“But I still haven’t found a way to fake my age,” George sighed.

“Me too.” Fred sighed with him. “Do you think on the day the champions are chosen, there will really be a master who can confuse their age?”

“If there is, I hope that person is one of us two.”

“Me too, the Triwizard Tournament, ah, just thinking about it is interesting!”

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