At dusk, the team returned fully loaded.
Two handcarts were piled high.
On top were over thirty cages; chickens, ducks, and rabbits were squeezed together.
There were also two specially reinforced small iron cages containing two Doxies—blue-skinned, sharp-toothed creatures that were currently snarling and slamming against the bars.
But even more eye-catching were the five people following the team.
Three of the men were werewolves, aged between twenty and thirty, dressed in rags but with a certain ferocity in their eyes.
Beside them was a thin, small witch wearing glasses and a faded set of wizarding robes.
The final member was a young witch with short brown hair and large eyes; she wore an ill-fitting set of men’s robes but looked relatively clean.
When Lupin entered the loft, Ivan was sitting at the table, casually flipping through a book.
“Boss, we’re back,” Lupin said.
“We bought some potions and livestock; the rest are in the bags.
Also, I’ve recruited five new people.”
Ivan took the Undetectable Extension Bag and looked up, his gaze sweeping over the five unfamiliar faces.
He lingered a bit longer when he saw the two witches.
“Who are they?”
“This is Vivian.
She used to be a clerk at the Ministry of Magic, but someone else made a mistake and pinned the blame on her,” Lupin said, pointing to the thin witch.
“And this is Ear.”
“She worked as an informant in Knockturn Alley for four years.
Six months ago, she was marked for death by the ‘Vulture Gang’ after selling information about them.
I happened to save her.”
The witch named Ear took a step forward and bowed slightly toward Ivan.
“Hello, Mr.
Royce.
I am Ear.”
Her voice was pleasant and her articulation was clear.
Ivan nodded and continued to observe the others.
Three werewolves, one former Ministry clerk, and one informant.
Along with the previous five, the team now consisted of exactly ten people.
“Remus told you the rules, right?” Ivan asked.
“He did,” the five replied in unison.
“Good.” Ivan pulled an Undetectable Extension Bag from his robes and emptied several sacks onto the floor in front of them.
As they steadied the sacks and opened them, their eyes widened.
Inside was a sack full of silver Sickles—the kind that was heavy enough to be a struggle to carry.
The sacks for the first four were all the same size, but the one in front of Ear was noticeably smaller.
When she opened it, she froze.
It wasn’t filled with bronze Knuts or silver Sickles.
It was filled with gold Galleons.
She did a quick estimate: at least a hundred and fifty.
“Your salary is two hundred Galleons a month,” Ivan said.
The other newcomers turned their heads, staring at the bag in Ear’s hands with complex expressions.
There was envy, jealousy, and a bit of confusion—why her?
Ear herself was dazed.
“Sir, this…
this is too much.”
“Is it?
Information is worth that price.
From now on, you will handle all intelligence gathering.
Keep what’s useful and deal with the rest as you see fit.
Also, build your own network—the money comes from your end.
Report the accounts to Remus every week, and he will reimburse you.” He paused.
“Do it well, and your pay doubles next month.
Fail, and you know the consequences.” Ivan gave a thin smile.
Ear swallowed hard and nodded vigorously.
Ivan looked at the others.
“Your monthly salary is two thousand silver Sickles.
Similarly, if you do well, it doubles next month.
You can ask the others about the other benefits.
If carrying that many Sickles is inconvenient, you can borrow an extension bag from Remus or find a way to exchange them for Galleons yourself.”
He walked to the window and pointed at the pile of cages below.
“A meat feast tonight!
Who can cook?
What Tom made this morning…
felt like an assassination attempt.”
Tom lowered his head in embarrassment.
The new clerk, Vivian, timidly raised her hand.
“I…
I’m good at household charms…
and I can cook.”
“Fine, you’re on it,” Ivan decided.
“Remus, show them around and set the rules.
Rent the loft next door tomorrow; it’s getting a bit crowded here.”
Having finished his instructions, he turned and walked outside.
Behind him, he heard Ear’s lowered voice: “You’ve been here longer—what kind of person is Mr.
Royce?”
Kyle remained silent for two seconds before saying, “He kills chickens without batting an eye.”
Ear: “???”
Marcus added, “Literally.
The boss killed twelve chickens this morning and didn’t even blink.”
Grip whispered, “And he was smiling the whole time.
Ivan heard them, turned around, and bared his teeth in a grin.
Everyone: “!!!” ლ(ٱ٥ٱლ)
Once Ivan reached the wooden cages, the area quickly transformed into a slaughterhouse.
He operated the blade personally.
Chickens, ducks, and geese fell one by one.
Blood sprayed everywhere, but he didn’t care in the least.
He only cared about whether his experience bar was filling fast enough.
[70/100] [75/100] [80/100]
The first cart was soon cleared, leaving only the two Doxies.
These things weren’t easy to kill.
They could fly, they bit, and their teeth were venomous.
When Ivan opened the iron cage, one Doxy lunged out, aimed straight for his face.
Ivan sidestepped the attack and countered with a backhand strike.
The blade sliced through the Doxy’s wing, and it shrieked as it tumbled to the ground.
Ivan’s second strike pierced its chest.
Blue blood sprayed out, and the experience bar surged.
[95/100]
“Magical creatures give so much more experience,” Ivan muttered, flicking the blood off his knife and grinning.
“It would be even better if they dropped some loot.”
Sadly, they didn’t.
He moved on to the second Doxy.
The blade fell.
There was no golden light or level-up special effects, but the experience bar refreshed.
[10/200]
Simultaneously, Ivan felt a distinct difference in his body.
He assumed this was the change brought about by leveling up.
His muscles felt firm, and his mind felt clear.
He clenched his fist; the sense of power was noticeably stronger than before.
Although his magic was still being drained by the interface panel, his maximum capacity had likely increased, along with his recovery speed.
This would undoubtedly help speed up the panel’s repair.
After processing all the remaining livestock, the experience bar stopped at: [155/200]
When Ivan walked back into the room carrying the blood-stained knife, everyone was watching him.
His body was covered in bloodstains—from his hands to his arms and across his chest, there were massive patches of dark red.
Some had splashed onto his face; he hadn’t wiped it off, just stood there with that wide grin.
In the contrast of the blood, he looked exceptionally ghoulish.
The group silently averted their eyes.
Ear nudged Kyle and mouthed the question: “Is he always like this?”
Kyle gave a bitter smile and nodded.
At least, he had been today.
During the dinner gathering that evening, Vivian prepared an elaborate roast meat feast.
Although the seasoning was simple, at least the food was cooked—a vast improvement over Tom’s attempt.
Sitting around the long table, the group momentarily forgot that they were drifters, outcasts, and the abandoned.