Newt, still with his back to Frey and Long Jiu, spoke in a faint voice, “Aren’t you even going to test if your blood works first? Agreeing to her terms in such a rush…”
Frey, who was about to show Long Jiu around the backpack, froze at his words.
He scratched his head and muttered defensively, “Well… isn’t helping others a Scamander tradition?”
“Our traditions never taught you to show off all your family secrets to a big cat you’ve only known for three days. Since you agreed, get on with it. Hermione is outside roasting potatoes. If she finishes cooking them and you don’t eat, I think you’ll be sleeping in the river tonight.”
Frey took a deep breath, walked to the center of the courtyard, and transformed back into the Icelandic Blue-Ridge.
The dragon raised its right claw and lightly sliced across the palm of its left forelimb with a razor-sharp talon.
A stream of silver blood surged forth with searing heat.
Suddenly snapped to attention, Long Jiu pulled a test tube from her robes, her fingers trembling as she caught the drops of liquid.
“How… do I use this? Drink it?” She held the test tube like she was cradling her very life.
With a swirl of blue light, Frey shifted back into human form.
He knelt on one knee, gasping for breath, his forehead beaded with cold sweat.
Not bad.
Since he hadn’t made any large movements, the strain on his nervous system was much lighter.
“Frey is an Animagus. His blood is mixed with a wizard’s will and a dragon’s violent magic. If you dare to drink it directly, I guarantee that in less than three seconds, you will turn into a heap of rotten flesh mixed with scales.”
Newt’s voice drifted from the bedroom once more: “All I can tell you is that legend has it bathing in dragon’s blood grants power.”
Long Jiu imagined what “rotten flesh mixed with scales” would look like and shuddered.
Gritting her teeth, she smeared the searing silver blood onto her arm, which immediately emitted a wisp of white smoke.
A suppressed whimper slipped from her throat.
As the blood was greedily absorbed by her skin, Long Jiu felt as if her bones had been removed, and she collapsed limply onto the floor.
Her body began to twitch violently, twisting in bizarre ways.
A few seconds later, she transformed into the Taowu once again.
But this time, it was like a well-fed big cat, rolling over on its back to expose its belly, its throat letting out an extremely pleased, rhythmic purr.
A moment later, she shifted back into human form and tightly grabbed Frey’s hand.
“It works! It works! I can feel it… the closing window has stopped, and it’s even widening!”
“Since it works, we must agree on three rules.”
Long Jiu raised her head and listened intently.
“First, the relationship between the Scamander family and you is one of employment. We pay you wages, and you buy blood from me. It’s a business transaction; there will be no coercion or stealing. If you ever harbor ill intentions and try to take it yourself, I will make you realize that a dragon doesn’t mind an extra piece of cat meat in its meal.”
Long Jiu gave a bitter smile.
“Do I look like someone capable of forcing a deal on you in the state I was just in, slumped on the floor?”
“Second, if the Nine Dragons Society comes looking for you, we will do our best to protect you. But in return, you must not leak even a single hair’s worth of information about us to the Nine Dragons Society or any third party. The Scamander family welcomes friends, but we never forgive traitors.”
“They won’t come after me. The Nine Dragons Society only cares about money. Many of their members moonlight for other organizations anyway.”
“Third, since you’re being paid, you must abide by the Scamander family rules. Here, there are no hunting hounds, only companions. Furthermore, your probation period will last until the end of this expedition, after which we will renegotiate.”
“No problem. It’s very fair.”
Frey stood up and pushed open the kitchen door.
“Here are the kitchen utensils, and the seasonings are in the cabinet. Grab whatever you can use and make me a meal. I am completely sick of Hermione’s bloody roasted potatoes. If I eat any more, I’m afraid I’ll start dreaming about potatoes hunting me down.”
He paused, then pointed toward the Peruvian Vipertooth area isolated in the distance.
“That dragon, those three eggs, plus the Mimic Turtle inside—they’re all under your care for now. You’ll be responsible for hunting. By the way, do you always hunt by transforming?”
“Not always. Although the Maledictus curse restricts us from casting spells, I’ve received assassin training since childhood. I can use most weapons you’ve seen. I usually prefer throwing knives, but mine were confiscated by you back in Quito. So I’ve been transforming to hunt lately, which isn’t particularly inconvenient either.”
Frey curled his lip and brought out a leather belt from the inner room, which was filled with willow-leaf daggers.
Long Jiu took the belt, her fingers stroking the cold hilts, but she didn’t buckle it around her waist.
Instead, she slipped out the throwing knives and, with a blushing face, handed the belt back to Frey.
“Keep this,” she said in a voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz.
“The character ‘Jiu’ is embroidered on this, and my baby hair is sewn into the lining. If you heat that character with fire, I will be able to sense your call within a certain range… of course, the distance depends on your magic level.”
Frey raised an eyebrow.
“A tracker? Is this your way of showing loyalty?”
“…This was originally supposed to be with my mentor.”
“Where is she?”
“She was also a Maledictus. She fully transformed during a mission in Miami, so the Society killed her and sold her in the local black market.”
“Are you hot?” Frey asked randomly, looking at her flushed cheeks.
“…A little,” Long Jiu said, quickly lowering her head.
“And another thing.” Frey’s expression turned serious.
“Do not tell a fourth person that I am an Animagus, other than the three of us here—including the girl outside. Her name is Hermione, Hermione Granger.”
Long Jiu stared blankly, a trace of confusion flashing in her phoenix-like eyes.
“You don’t trust her? I’ve followed you for several days, and your relationship is… enviably close.”
“I’m just not ready yet.” Frey turned around, his back looking somewhat lonely.
“When the time is right, I will tell her myself.”
Long Jiu bit her lip.
“Understood. Then… what about Banco? The Shuar. Are you going to escort him to the Brazilian Ministry of Magic?”
Frey’s face was dark as water as he wiped his wand with a square cloth.
“Don’t ask me. You’re a professional in this area; you should understand what I mean.”
Newt’s movements stiffened in the inner room, but in the end, he remained silent.
She was most comfortable with this kind of gray-area work.
“Remember to retrieve his blowpipe; our display cabinet is still missing one. Alright, go on out.” Frey waved his hand.
“Go ask Hermione for some clothes to change into. She’s a bit shorter than you, but they should do in a pinch.”
He glanced down at the mud-caked high heels on Long Jiu’s feet.
“And I really don’t understand, does the Nine Dragons Society’s training program include running marathons in the rainforest while wearing high heels?”
“I’m used to it,” Long Jiu said, flashing a stubborn smile.
“With these on, I can exert more force when I snap someone’s neck.”
Leaning against the master bedroom’s doorframe, Newt watched his grandson handle everything so smoothly.
“Well done, child. You’ve learned to give a beast chains, and you’ve also learned to give it food. That is the best way to tame a beast, but you must be careful not to be fooled by its docility.”
Frey helped Newt step out of the backpack.
Hermione was half-squatting by the stream, holding the injured Pudgy in her hands.
“Its wounds are almost healed. I plan to release it back into the wild in a few days.”
“Releasing it here is as good as killing it,” Frey said, walking over and squatting beside her.
“It is adapted to slow-moving shallow streams. The current here is fast enough to sweep away a cow, and the bottom is crawling with caimans waiting for a meal.”
“I guess not, then.” Hermione stopped, sighed, and put Pudgy back into her purse.
“The roasted potatoes are almost done. I’ll go check on them.”
“Forget your roasted potatoes,” Frey said, standing up and pointing to Long Jiu, who had followed them out.
“We have a new cook.”
Hermione sneered.
“A new cook? You have nothing but beautiful women on your mind! If you’re ever scratched to death by cat claws in your sleep, I definitely won’t cry! Not a single tear!”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” Frey rubbed his aching temples and nudged Hermione.
“Go on, take her into the bag to find some clothes to change into. T-shirt, shorts, anything. Find something short enough that won’t get in the way, preferably sturdy. She’s going to be responsible for hunting and taking care of our… ancestors in there.”
Hermione glared fiercely at Long Jiu’s exposed long legs, then looked down at her own, gritting her teeth.
“I don’t need you to remind me that she’s taller than me! Put the money for the new clothes on your tab! And don’t think you can buy cheap stuff to brush me off!”
“Alright, alright. I originally planned to get you a Kneazle for your birthday in September, but it looks like I’ll have to save that money to buy you clothes instead.”
“Who wants a Kneazle!” Hermione dragged Long Jiu by the wrist toward the backpack.
“I really don’t like cats right now! Especially stray cats of unknown origins!”
Long Jiu let herself be pulled along rather awkwardly by Hermione, casting a glance back at Frey before they entered.
Frey shrugged and looked at Newt beside him.
The old man was crouching on the ground, observing a column of centipede ants carrying leaves.
Without raising his head, he blurted out, “My dear grandson, I must remind you. Based on my eighty years of experience in natural history, taking in a cat is sometimes much more dangerous than taking in a dragon. Come, look at these little darlings. In Castelobruxo, people use their stingers to treat arthritis.”