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Chapter 41: Magic Execution Team [4,000 words, thanks for your support]

They arrived at Pippin's Potions at 9:30 AM.

The entire village of Hogsmeade had gathered, crowding around Mr. Pippin's Potion shop, blocking it completely.

Vilan and the others squeezed through, and even from outside the shop, they could see broken glass and splintered wood scattered on the ground.

Peering inside, Mr. Pippin was talking to two Wizards, one tall and one short, amidst the mess in his shop.

Mr. Pippin's hands were clasped tightly to his chest, a mix of anger and heartache on his face. His eyes bulged, and he stomped his feet incessantly, with occasional curses drifting into Vilan's ears:

“Those bastards, scoundrels, sons of bitches—”

“Officers, this time, with such a serious incident, you cannot turn a blind eye again.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Pippin, we have received professional training—”

The two Wizards had their backs to Vilan, but Vilan could still see them holding notebooks, recording Mr. Pippin's words.

The two Wizards seemed to be from the Magical Enforcement Team.

This was a department within the Ministry of Magic, ranking below Aurors, responsible for handling various cases involving magic that were not severe in nature.

Actually, involving Goblins was quite serious.

However, recalling what James had said in his letter, Vilan suspected that the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic were currently too preoccupied to deal with this Goblin robbery case.

Mr. Pippin, standing inside the shop, saw Vilan and the others and quickly stretched out his arm, waving vigorously.

Under the astonished gaze of all the Hogsmeade villagers, Vilan pulled his friends and jogged over to Mr. Pippin.

“This is the private investigator I hired, Weilan Costa, and his friends.”

“These are Wizards from the Magical Enforcement Team, Wilson McCarthy and Seven Gobert.”

Mr. Pippin introduced them to each other.

The tall, thin Wizard was Mr. McCarthy, and the short, stout Wizard was Mr. Gobert. Vilan stepped forward and shook hands with both of them, then introduced Hermione and Ron.

“Weilan Costa!”

When Mr. Gobert smiled, the flesh on his face almost squeezed his eyes shut:

“Ruben from the Auror office mentioned you. Didn't you go to watch the Quidditch World Cup this year and even played a part in that murder case?”

Vilan nodded, surprised that these two knew him.

“That’s good, I thought it was just some mischievous kids causing trouble.”

Mr. McCarthy showed little emotional fluctuation. He closed his notebook, slipped it into his pocket, and gestured to Vilan:

“Take a look. What have you found?”

Vilan activated Minute Observation and surveyed the Potion shop he was in.

There was almost nothing left intact in Pippin's Potions.

The door lock, along with the entire wooden door, had been smashed. The Potions with high price tags were either missing or broken. The tall, sturdy shelves were like blocks of tofu, split in half by an extremely sharp tool.

The Potion-making counter was kicked over, and several cauldrons were shattered, mixing with many unidentifiable Potion ingredients, trampled into murky black water on the floor.

In the view of Minute Observation, most of the chaotic debris was ignored, leaving only many scattered bloodstains that were particularly conspicuous.

“Hmm?”

Vilan leaned closer, carefully examining these dried blood traces.

The bloodstains were distributed on the cleanly fractured surfaces of wood or the edges of broken glass.

These areas were too flat and hard, with sharp edges. The blood was smeared on their sharp edges, and there were also trace amounts of skin fragments on them.

These skin fragments showed an abnormal bluish tint.

In the reconstructed scene, several men with strangely bluish skin visited Pippin's Potions in the early morning.

They violently broke down the door, smashing things inside the shop with extremely sharp Goblin metal. They then plundered most of the Potions.

The broken glass and wood inadvertently cut them, yet they seemed to have lost their sense of pain, showing no reflexive reactions, continuing to lift their legs and swing their arms forward.

Thus, the sharp objects piercing their skin slid beneath their skin, becoming stained with red blood.

What puzzled Vilan the most was that there were no traces of Goblins having visited the scene!

Potion ingredients were spilled on the ground, leaving many messy footprints.

He used Minute Observation, carefully identifying the footprints on the ground three times, and was certain that only humans had been in the room, no Goblins.

Vilan thought for a moment, believing it was necessary to confirm a very important matter with Mr. Pippin:

“Mr. Pippin, can your shop’s door lock be opened with Alohomora?”

“This…” Mr. Pippin stood with his legs together, his movements somewhat stiff, “Our family lives on the second floor, so I didn't think it was necessary to use a high-level lock.”

“Oh?”

Vilan grasped the key information:

“So, Mr. Pippin, you and your family must have heard the commotion on the first floor when the incident occurred, right?”

“What could we do even if we heard it?”

Mr. Pippin suddenly became agitated:

“There’s only me, my wife, and my 20-year-old daughter at home, but there were five adult men!”

Hermione quickly stepped forward to calm him:

“Please don’t get agitated, we are just here to ask for crucial clues.”

“We understand you need to ensure the safety of your wife and daughter…”

Vilan subtly moved closer to Mr. McCarthy:

“Sir, I see you seem to have finished questioning Mr. Pippin. Could you tell me…”

McCarthy replied very concisely:

“There’s only one problematic detail—that is, Pippin said the robbers were all men with bluish skin.”

Vilan thought of the man who ambushed the owl.

He had also unintentionally seen the bluish skin exposed on that man.

“Tattoos?”

Vilan tried to propose his guess to Mr. McCarthy.

“Possibly. But Pippin said that all five men had bluish skin exposed—unless they had extensive tattoos.”

“In that case, it’s not out of the question that their identity is that of a fanatical extremist cult member.”

McCarthy quickly jotted down these possibilities in his notebook.

“However, besides tattoos, there are other possibilities.”

Vilan thought of the dead House-elves with green skin, and what Ron had told him about the long-term consumption of magic powder causing bluish skin as a symptom of poisoning.

Vilan told McCarthy all this information. The serious gentleman showed no emotional reaction, merely meticulously and neatly recording what Vilan said in his notebook.

“I think there’s another point worth noting.”

Vilan pointed to the lock that had been violently broken open:

“Mr. Pippin said that their family used an ordinary door lock, which means a simple Alohomora could open it. However, the robbers chose to violently break down the door.”

McCarthy bit the end of his quill:

“You mean the robbers can’t use magic.”

Vilan nodded at him.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Mr. Gobert was quite skilled at social interaction.

Vilan didn’t know what Gobert said, but he managed to calm Mr. Pippin’s emotions.

Mr. Pippin, who had been quite resentful of the Magical Enforcement Team a few days ago, now tightly grasped Gobert’s hand, his eyes filled with tears as he said:

“Officer, you’ve worked hard.”

McCarthy flipped through the notes in his notebook and shared his next planned investigative direction with Vilan:

“If the perpetrators aren't Wizards, then we plan to systematically check the Squibs in the vicinity. What do you think?”

Vilan thought the scope of such an investigation was still too broad:

“Mr. McCarthy, look closely at these split cabinets.”

“Such sharp weapons are not common.”

“Plus, Mr. Pippin said that the Goblin metal he acquired a few days ago was stolen.”

“Don't you think this case is definitely related to Goblins?”

McCarthy thoughtfully wrote in his notebook: Related to Goblins.

“Squibs, and connections to Goblins.”

Finished writing, McCarthy snapped his notebook shut:

“This way, our scope is much smaller.”

“Heh heh, you kid actually have some talent.”

“Gobert is an old hand at networking; he happens to know a few Goblins in this area. Since you brought this up, I can have Gobert make some inquiries among the Goblins.”

Vilan turned his head to look behind him upon hearing this.

The short, stout Wizard named Seven Gobert was nimbly moving among the onlookers from Hogsmeade. He was as at ease as a monkey in the woods, and with just a few words, he sent the curious villagers back home.

McCarthy asked Vilan:

“What about you? Where do you plan to start your investigation?”

Vilan lowered his gaze, then looked at the footprints on the ground.

The group had smashed some liquid-filled bottles and jars, leaving footprints of varying depths after stepping on them.

With the enhancement of Minute Observation, Vilan could clearly see the escape direction of the five robbers after the robbery.

“I plan to follow the footprints.”

McCarthy frowned, looking at the chaotic footprints outside the shop:

“Can you see them clearly?”

“Yes, but it requires some concentration,” Vilan said, tapping his forehead.

“Alright, but I hope to follow you all.”

McCarthy’s eyebrows raised for a moment, but quickly returned to normal:

“You are just three children. Following the suspects’ footprints to an unknown place is very dangerous.”

Vilan did not refuse McCarthy’s suggestion.

Having an adult Wizard who could use magic with them was always good.

Mr. Pippin remained in his Potion shop.

The plump, always smiling Mr. Gobert went to the Pig's Head Pub to gather information.

Before leaving, he instructed his colleague:

“Be careful, Wilson. I'll tell you any news through the two-way mirror as soon as I get it.”

McCarthy said little more to his enthusiastic colleague. He nodded subtly, a form of farewell.

Vilan, using the power of Minute Observation, reconstructed the escape route of the five-person robber group based on the footprints on the ground.

“Two-way mirror?”

Vilan thought for a while on the way before remembering what this item was.

A pair of magical mirrors that allowed holders to have instant video calls regardless of distance.

To use it, one simply held the mirror and called out the other person's name.

“It's quite convenient. I hope Mr. Gobert gets some results soon.”

“Finally, Mr. McCarthy, I’d like to see your and your partner’s Magical Enforcement Team identification.”

McCarthy did not criticize Vilan for being nosy; instead, he advised Gobert: requesting identification to prove identity is a cautious and reliable act.

After confirming that the two were indeed from the Magical Enforcement Team, Vilan, following the fleeing criminals in his sight, led McCarthy, Hermione, and Ron to follow closely.

Hermione walked along the path, looking around at the scenery:

“This is the same road we took to Fetterot a few days ago.”

Ron confidently put forth his theory:

“It’s the same guy who ambushed the owl, getting revenge on Mr. Pippin!”

Hermione and Ron started arguing:

“Don’t forget, there was only one person in that ambush, but there are five robbers.”

McCarthy ignored them both.

What truly interested him was only Vilan, who was exploring ahead.

In his eyes, this child, only in his fourth year at Hogwarts, was incredibly able to discern the escape direction of the robbers from the shallow dust on the ground in the early morning, just by using his naked eye.

“Is this some kind of innate magic? I’ve never heard of it.”

Vilan led everyone, stopping and starting along the way.

About an hour and a half later, Vilan, whose legs were sore and numb, ran out of stamina and could only temporarily sit on a large stone, panting and surveying his surroundings.

This was indeed the road passing through Fetterot.

By now, the sun had gradually climbed to its zenith, and a faint breeze rustled the birch trees.

Hermione concernedly handed him water and bread:

“You look terrible. Rest here for a bit.”

“Thank you.”

Vilan took the water and bread, ate and drank a little, and felt his strength return somewhat.

He hadn't been using Minute Observation continuously.

Because according to his observation pattern, the footprints had always followed the existing small path.

So, he only needed to use Minute Observation at forks in the road to discern the robbers' escape direction.

Now his magic power was at 12, leaving him with one last use.

While everyone was resting, Vilan once again pulled out the small map from his backpack.

They were now in Fetterot. At the fork they had just passed, if they turned right, they would reach the village they had visited last time.

But the five robbers chose to go straight.

However, this was the only road; there would be no more forks. Following this road would lead directly to Lake Marenweim.

Beyond Lake Marenweim was Croft County. Ron had told him that there were many magic powder addicts in Croft County.

Could it be that those addicts, for money, chose to collude with Goblins and take such a risk?

Cool breezes came in gusts, shaking down a few yellowing leaves.

Vilan asked McCarthy, who was accompanying him:

“Any news from Mr. Gobert’s side?”

“No.” McCarthy looked up and estimated the time. “The Pig's Head Pub won’t get busy until noon.”

Vilan showed his map to McCarthy:

“But based on the current direction, I deduce…”

“The perpetrators might have crossed Lake Marenweim by boat, or they might be on the lake shore right now.”

“Furthermore, according to Mr. Pippin, there are hidden Goblin ruins on the other side of Lake Marenweim…”

“Then I’ll notify Seven first.”

McCarthy pulled out a small rectangular mirror, slightly larger than his palm, with a metal trim, from his pocket and called out a name to the mirror:

“Seven Gobert.”

The hazy mirror surface suddenly became clear.

Gobert seemed to be holding this mirror. Through the mirror, they could see the greasy, water-stained ceiling inside the Pig's Head Pub.

Occasionally, people passed by the edge of the mirror.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Ron exclaimed with an envious look. “If we had a pair, Fred and George would be so jealous of me.”

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