“Good, another one down!” “Didn’t even break a sweat.” Elavin twirled his pistol as he walked up and fired two more rounds into the middle-aged wizard’s heart.
Only then did he crouch down and calmly search the body.
“One wand.” “Money…
47 Galleons, 18 Sickles, 26 Knuts.
A bit richer than the previous ones.” “Wait, what’s this?” After finishing his search, Elavin pulled out a palm-sized, slightly worn light gray pouch.
Though old and shabby on the outside, it clearly concealed something far more complex within.
“This…
could it be a space pouch enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm?!” In theory, this item had considerable value.
But Elavin wasn’t familiar with it yet, so he didn’t dare use it casually—nor keep it for long.
“You never know what kind of curse a Dark Wizard might leave behind.
Better to sell it for recycling.” After taking everything of value, Elavin stood up, left the alley, and headed toward Borgin and Burkes.
Borgin and Burkes was an old shop in Knockturn Alley specializing in Dark magical artifacts.
Its status there was roughly on the same level as Ollivanders or Gringotts in Diagon Alley.
Creak— Pushing the door open, a wave of dark, ominous aura greeted him—poison candles, shrunken heads, withered human hands, Acromantula venom, and a black, glossy necklace of unknown origin… Even though he had prepared himself, Elavin still felt a faint tension rise in his chest.
“Boss, I’ve got business.” The shop owner, Caractacus Burke, was a middle-aged man with greasy black hair and a sinister presence.
The moment he saw Elavin, a faint, unpleasant smile appeared on his face.
“Oh?
A young unfamiliar wizard?
What kind of business?” Elavin quickly steadied himself.
“Item recycling.
Do you do that?” Old Burke chuckled.
“That depends on the goods.
This isn’t a junkyard, after all.” “I understand completely… of course.
Take a look first.” Thud— Elavin placed the space pouch on the counter.
Old Burke raised an eyebrow.
“A pouch enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm?
This looks… familiar.” “Maybe you’ve dealt with its previous owner recently.” Elavin said flatly, his tone polite on the surface, but carrying a faint edge beneath it.
“Just give me a price—for everything inside.” Old Burke froze for a moment.
“Where did you get this?” “Do you usually ask that question here?” “…No, of course not.
Just habit.
Borgin and Burkes doesn’t ask about origins.” “Then don’t start now.” Merlin’s scarf… Were young wizards these days all this bold?
From his tone alone, one might think he had just been placed under the Imperius Curse by some Dark wizard.
“Now… let’s see what’s inside.” After a brief silence, Old Burke finally opened the pouch.
The first items were potions.
“Essence of Dittany, Draught of Living Death, and a small vial of Polyjuice Potion?” He smirked faintly.
“Nothing impressive… yet.” He continued pulling items out.
“Bezoar, scabies treatment potion, burn-healing paste, Blood-Replenishing Potion, Gillyweed?” His smirk faded.
Unease began to creep in.
“Veritaserum, Euphoria Elixir, Hair Growth Potion, Wolfsbane Potion?” The smile vanished completely.
“Troll hide, merperson scales, crocodile teeth, unknown one-eyed spider venom, Thestral tail hair…” The sheer quantity and variety had already exceeded Old Burke’s expectations.
Even more troubling—several items clearly originated from his own shop.
After emptying everything, Old Burke finally reached the bottom.
“Ei… eight wands?!” For a wizard, a wand was their second life.
It would never change hands unless something major had happened.
And here—eight of them.
Which meant their owners’ fate was obvious.
“This wand… I remember it belonged to that fellow…” “And this one is…” Old Burke swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing.
As a veteran of Knockturn Alley, he knew exactly what this meant.
Those fools had seen a young wizard and thought he was easy prey… only to pick the wrong target.
But the conclusion still felt unbelievable.
How old was this kid?
Even old enough for Hogwarts?
He had quietly taken down those who had ruled Knockturn Alley for years?
Or… was there someone behind him?
Snap, snap, snap— “Hey.
What are you thinking about?
I asked you a question.” Old Burke jolted back to reality and met Elavin’s impatient gaze.
Cold sweat immediately ran down his back.
Whether he was the mastermind or just a pawn… this was not someone to offend.
“Ah—no, of course not!” “Please forgive an old man whose hearing isn’t what it used to be.” His tone turned instantly polite, almost cautious.
“Now then, could you repeat your question, dear customer?” “That’s more like it.” Elavin smiled faintly, his expression suddenly harmless and easygoing.
“Mr.
Burke is getting old.
I understand completely… of course.” “So, I’ll ask again.” He paused, then picked up one of the eight wands and set it aside.
“All of this—how much will you pay?” Old Burke quietly exhaled, thinking he had escaped danger.
But Elavin’s next words froze that relief instantly.
“I hope your eyes are better than your ears.” “If they’re so dim and clouded that you can’t properly evaluate goods anymore… then perhaps you don’t need them at all.” Merlin’s damn underwear… Where the hell did this little demon come from?!