After finishing his meal, Aiwen headed back upstairs, with Lupin following close behind.
“Boss, the bounty on you has increased.”
“Oh?
To how much?”
“Eight hundred Galleons if taken alive.
For your corpse…
three hundred.”
Aiwen arched an eyebrow.
“It went up quite fast.
Did Ear tell you?”
“Yes, she just informed me.
Moreover, the news has already spread through Knockturn Alley.
Many people know about it.”
As Aiwen listened, he called up his inventory interface:
[Gold: 31,415] [Silver: 92] [Copper: 65]
Eight hundred Galleons?
He smirked.
“Is that all they’re offering?
Far too stingy.
I thought my ‘dear’ father would at least put up three to five thousand.”
Lupin looked at him with a complex expression.
“Boss, eight hundred gold Galleons is already a fortune in Knockturn Alley.
It’s enough to buy many lives.”
“I know.” Aiwen walked to the window and looked down at the street below.
The new team members were cleaning up the aftermath.
Tom was learning how to butcher meat, and Ear was bragging to the others about how she used to squeeze information out of Ministry of Magic officials.
“The team needs to keep growing.”
“You want to recruit more?”
“Yes, keep recruiting.” Aiwen turned to look at him.
“Also, starting tomorrow, split everyone into two groups.
One group will continue with procurement and currency exchange.
The other group goes to Ear.”
“Have her lead them to gather intelligence.
Black markets, taverns, vagabond wizard gatherings—I want to know every rumor.
We need our own eyes and ears.”
“Understood.”
“But keep an eye on her too.
I don’t know her well; don’t let her sell us out.”
“I understand,” Lupin nodded, then looked at Aiwen with confusion.
“But…
Boss.”
“Yes?”
“We didn’t know each other before, either.
Why did you trust me so much back then?”
Aiwen looked at him and smiled.
“You’re different!”
“Intuition!
All right, don’t dwell on it.
Get back to work.” Aiwen shooed him away.
Left without a clear answer, Lupin turned and departed.
An hour later, the night grew deeper.
Downstairs gradually quieted down as the team members found places to sleep.
In the attic, Aiwen began his cycle again—bedroom, bathroom, bedroom, bathroom.
The “fluid” from hundreds of potion bottles was being continuously expelled from his body.
But this time, he felt a slight difference.
As his level increased, the magic power in his body lingered for longer periods.
He walked to the mirror and looked at his reflection.
His eleven-year-old face still carried a hint of baby fat.
But the look in his eyes was no longer that of a child.
“Soon.
I’ll be able to use magic soon.”
Outside the window, the lights of Knockturn Alley went out one by one.
A brief sound of fighting drifted from the distance, quickly vanishing.
Everything was as usual.
And yet, it felt as if everything had changed.
Aiwen spent the entire night drinking potions.
Exactly 230 bottles—nearly double what he had consumed the night before.
He tossed the empty bottles into a corner, where they piled up like a champagne tower on the verge of collapsing.
At dawn, he sat amidst the pile of bottles, his consciousness sinking into his sea of knowledge.
The shattered panel looked the same as always.
The cracks seemed slightly fewer, yet at the same time, they didn’t.
“Tsk, it’s such a glutton,” Aiwen sighed and lay down on the bed.
At seven in the morning, Kyle knocked on the door punctually, bringing back the first batch of “breakfast.”
Dozens of livestock, seemingly sensing their impending fate, thrashed frantically in their cages.
Aiwen pulled a knife from under his pillow.
Once again, it was the familiar, swift execution—hand rising, blade falling.
The team members watched silently from the side.
After two days, they had grown somewhat numb to seeing Aiwen slaughtering animals.
But today was different from the previous times.
Although the boy was still covered in blood and a smile still hung on his face, that hint of madness was gone.
The smile was too clean—so clean it made their skin crawl.
The last fish flopped on the chopping block.
Aiwen struck it directly with the back of the blade.
Silence.
Aiwen glanced at his experience bar, silently feeling the changes brought about by leveling up.
His muscles were firmer, his strength had increased, and his movements with the blade felt faster and more fluid.
Lupin walked in from outside.
Early that morning, he had found the landlord of the adjacent attic and rented it as well.
Now that the two spaces were connected, it was much more spacious.
Aiwen stabbed the knife into the chopping block and turned to grin at them.
“The ingredients are ready.
Who’s going to help pluck the feathers?”
Breakfast consisted of roast chicken, stewed rabbit, and fresh fish soup.
Twelve people gathered around the table to eat.
No one spoke; there was only the sound of heavy chewing and the clinking of utensils.
Aiwen was the smallest and didn’t eat much, finishing in just a few bites.
“Meeting after you finish.”
The group silently accelerated their eating.
Five minutes later, the table was cleared.
Ten people sat in two rows.
Lupin stood beside Aiwen.
“Starting today, I am dividing you into two groups.”
“Combat Group: seven people.
Kyle, Marcus, Claw, Greyback, Ben, Karl, and Simon.”
“Logistics Group: three people.
Ear, Tom, and Vivienne.”
“The Combat Group will be responsible for physical actions and security, and will temporarily assist with procurement.
The Logistics Group will handle intelligence and communication.
Once we have enough personnel, procurement will be transferred to you.”
“Remus will conduct specialized training for your groups shortly.” Aiwen looked at Lupin.
Lupin unfurled a piece of parchment.
“Starting today, the Combat Group will practice spell dueling, close-quarters combat, and squad coordination every day.
The Logistics Group will study counter-tracking, basic healing, and the use of alchemical tools—such as Smoke Bombs, Flash Powder, and Extendable Ears.
Training time will be no less than four hours a day.”
“Any questions?”
“None!” they shouted in unison.
“Then let’s begin.”
Training started quickly.
Aiwen sat on the second-story windowsill, watching.
Kyle and Marcus certainly lived up to their Auror backgrounds; they really had some skill.
The two stood twenty meters apart, wands raised simultaneously.
“Stupefy!”
“Protego!”
The light slammed into the transparent barrier, exploding into a brilliant shower of sparks.
Their incantations were lightning-fast, their bodies constantly moving as they sought cover and better positioning.
Practical spells were fired one after another: the Disarming Charm, the Impediment Jinx, the Jelly-Legs Jinx…
The werewolves’ training was a bit lacking—or rather, quite lacking.
Claw gripped his wand with a death grip, and his incantations weren’t very smooth.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” The feather floated up two inches before quickly falling back down.
Even though his spellcasting was pathetic, when it came to the close-quarters combat phase, his sheer ferocity stunned everyone.
He truly lived up to the name of a werewolf—ruthless enough!
The Logistics Group’s side was much quieter.
The Squib Tom and Vivienne were following Ear, learning the essentials of counter-tracking.
While teaching, Ear casually disassembled an Extendable Ear, her eyes constantly flickering toward Aiwen’s position on the second floor.
She was the perfect embodiment of someone with “ears for six directions and eyes for eight”—listening and watching everything at once.