Chapter 83: "Big Trouble"

After stepping out of the bedroom, Louis saw the two Oxicris sisters sitting at the dining table having breakfast. Helen seemed to be humming a cheerful tune, apparently excited about today’s business trip. Oxicris, on the other hand, wore a strange expression, her lips pursed in dissatisfaction.

Not knowing what was going on, Louis went to wash up. Before long, he heard a stream of inner monologues and complaints coming from outside the bathroom.

Oxicris:
[Is this a joke...?]
[How could this be...?]
[A flower card on the very first official day at work? I don’t even have one yet, I don’t have one yet...]
[What’s going on, since when did Louis attract such a crowd of big donors?]
[Could it be that from now on I’ll have to rely on Louis to cover for me?]

Helen:
[What status did Louis and I end up with, anyway? Sis hasn’t told me yet.]
[What do we need to buy when we go to the Muggle city? Do they ride brooms too?]
[...]

Louis chuckled, wiped the toothpaste from his mouth, and walked out to take a seat at the table.

Seeing Oxicris sneaking glances at him, Louis winked at her. Caught in the act, Oxicris blushed slightly. After a cough, she said, “Louis, Helen, I spoke with Director Treve this morning. Your positions have been confirmed... Just call him this afternoon to confirm, all right...”

Her voice grew softer and softer until even she could barely hear herself.

“Oh,” said Louis, eating the eight-treasure porridge brewed by the Magical Kitty’s Shop, not pressing for details.

Oxicris let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“By the way, Sis, do you know Earl Crowley?” Helen asked curiously. Unlike her sister, Helen’s parents were pureblood wizards, and she’d grown up in the academy, with almost no contact with the outside world—let alone meeting ministers and nobles from the Muggle kingdom.

Oxicris, however, was the daughter of the Muggle king, raised in the royal court, and was actually quite familiar with Crowley.

At the mention of Crowley, Oxicris rubbed her temples.

“The Crowley family business is rather... peculiar. Just remember, if you go there, do not provoke that thing. Just investigate the situation, write a perfunctory report, and come back early—as long as you don’t disturb It, you’ll be fine.”

She knew about the Crowley family; in the Kingdom of Solendo, they were notorious.

Truly terrifying...

This time, Belief had found Louis a massive headache. Worse, the Ministry of Magic already knew, and the Department of Mysteries had issued its orders.

There was no backing out.

“But you don’t need to worry too much,” Oxicris added. “Treve said he’s already applied to the Magprison for an officer-level escort—probably Warden Stewart.”

She rubbed her forehead again.

Though Stewart couldn’t solve the real trouble, if things got dangerous, he could at least get Louis and Helen out alive. The only problem was, last time, Louis and Helen had seriously offended him... Stewart wouldn’t make things hard for Helen, but Louis might have to pay the price.

“Can’t you call and ask them not to send him, Sis? I’m really scared of him,” Helen pleaded, her sandwich suddenly tasteless in her hands.

“Don’t worry, Helen. Having him around is better than not.” Oxicris looked at Louis with grave seriousness. “Louis, you must show Sir Stewart proper respect—even I have to treat him as an elder, let alone you two. He’s a warden now, which makes him your superior in every way.”

At this, Louis blinked—so this was what she meant by a business trip: a special operation just to put him in his place?

“Don’t worry, Sis, Louis is always polite,” Helen quickly said, buttering him up. “Isn’t that right, Louis?”

“Yes, Mr. Stewart has always been very polite,” Louis replied, cutting two slices of cake and handing them to the sisters. “If he isn’t polite, I’ll just teach him again.”

Recalling how Louis had publicly toyed with Stewart during the assessment, and his usual arrogance, the sisters exchanged glances and rubbed their foreheads.

Counting on Louis to be “polite” was probably wishful thinking.

Oxicris looked rather troubled, and as breakfast drew to a close, she couldn’t help but give Louis another long lecture in her elder’s tone. “At home and at the academy you might get away with things, but outside, you need to be careful. Don’t offend Stewart—or Governor Crowley, for that matter. He may be a Muggle, but he commands the Seventh Fleet of the Kingdom of Solendo—even the Witch Queen is wary of him. You must show respect.”

After listening for a while, Louis realized that deep down, wizards seemed to harbor a profound fear of Muggles.

He found this all the more intriguing.

Oxicris continued, “The Ministry knows all about the Crowley family. With Stewart taking the lead this time, even if things don’t get resolved, the Ministry won’t blame you two newcomers.”

After her lengthy admonishments, Louis responded with appropriate deference, finally putting the sisters at ease.

Once the table was cleared, Oxicris planned to take them out shopping. Helen went along enthusiastically, but Louis remembered he had another appointment that morning—the last of the Belief family youngsters—so he headed to his office.

At the door, he saw a row of towering, burly dragonborn sailors, some sporting black eyes and bruises. When they spotted Louis, they quickly turned away and lowered their eyes.

Standing among them was a little goblin captain with a bushy beard, a captain’s cap, a colorful conch hanging from his neck, and a pipe in his mouth—he called himself “Uncle KFC Belief,” a great banker.

Clearly, he was lying—he was more likely the ancestor of the Belief family than their uncle.

But he hadn’t lied about being in international maritime trade.

A human trafficker.

These fellows had been rescued yesterday, but their manners had been lacking, so they’d gotten a dose of discipline.

[You discover this man’s true name is “Little Conch,” age 372, steeped in sin, and cursed by the Child of the Abyss—since you brushed up on “Analytical Divination,” you can now see words where there are none...]

When Louis arrived, the goblin captain quickly doffed his cap, bent low at the door, and gave a sycophantic noble’s bow. He grinned, revealing a set of broken, yellowed teeth.

Louis cast him a glance and unlocked the door.

This time, the goblin’s dragonborn bodyguards had learned their lesson—none dared follow inside, only the little captain shuffled in behind.

“Did you wash?” Louis asked, pulling on gloves as he glanced at the would-be patient.

“I did, I did! Washed my behind last night and again this morning, just to be sure!” The little captain raised two fingers to the sky in earnest.

“Mm, stick it out—here, drink this,” Louis said, tossing him a bottle of “Nutri-Quick.”

The fellow had come yesterday, but had been kicked out for reasons best left unsaid—let’s just say, reading the newspaper had left Louis in a foul mood, and the goblin’s lack of decorum had made him the perfect target.

After a quick examination, Louis frowned. He’d noticed that the later a Belief family member showed up, the worse their condition, and the harder it was to cure.

“Nutri-Quick” had proven almost magical—otherwise, even under full anesthesia, touching the illness would leave the patient in unbearable agony.

But the little captain’s case was on a whole different level.

Louis tried several times, but failed to transfer the ailment, until finally, with a raised eyebrow, he transformed the root of the disease into a QR code and was done.

[Affection of Mr. Little Conch: +MAX]

After some questioning, Louis learned that Little Conch had been the first to be cursed with the “Touch of the Elder God.”

[Clearly, the rise of the Belief family is shrouded in secret history.]

[If not for a narrow escape, it might not have been just his behind afflicted by the Elder God’s touch...]

[One way or another, this adventure had been worth it—a family already daring and gifted at business suddenly came into a massive, mysterious fortune, capitalizing on both the Muggle industrial revolution and the magical gold rush...]

[The Belief family gradually rose to become one of the largest capital groups in the world.]

[And Mr. Little Conch was the very source of both the fortune and the curse...]

“A miracle!” the little captain exclaimed, staring at himself in the mirror. “The curse of the Abyssal God is gone! I’m as good as new!”

Louis, washing his hands nearby, said nothing. By the sixth patient, he’d realized this was truly a curse, and only the last five still bore it in full force.

“The conch around your neck will seal it for three more years at most,” Louis said, drying his hands and eyeing the goblin. “Wealth and longevity always have their price, Mr. Little Conch...”

At that moment, a pink envelope floated in through the window, cutting Louis off. He caught it, noting the tuft of white fox fur attached, and raised an eyebrow.

“Mr. Louis, did you just call me Little Conch?” the goblin asked, dumbfounded—how many centuries had it been since anyone called him that nickname?

He pressed his cap to his chest and bowed solemnly.

[It seems, like the others, Mr. Little Conch wants to discuss a big deal with you... Or perhaps a big problem...]

Little Conch said, “Sir, as you said, wealth and longevity come at a price...”

Before he could finish, he was booted out the door.

[Clearly, Louis wanted nothing to do with ancient gods or cosmic high-dimensional beings—even if this world had no true Elder Gods, even if it was only their offspring...]

From outside, the goblin shouted, “The Belief family is always at your service...”

Bang—the door slammed shut.

At your service? More like always causing you trouble!

Just look at what KFC dragged him into next—trouble even Stewart couldn’t handle!

And what came of the “favor” Wallace’s cousin arranged? The dragonborn gladiator arena!

[Louis decided to seek a little joy for himself first.]

Tossing away the towel, Louis eyed the pink letter, immediately catching a familiar scent—it was from someone he knew.

On the wax seal, a tuft of white fox fur.

Louis raised an eyebrow, opened the letter, and found a riddle meant for crystal-ball divination—but he could tell it was a decoy; if he actually tried to scry it, it would connect directly to a “video call.”

“Not bad—pretty clever. But who is this, anyway?”

Smiling, Louis stretched out on the balcony rocker, took out his crystal ball, and after a gentle touch, a live broadcast appeared.

On the other end was a little white-furred fox.

[Oh no, what if someone sees? If someone records this and comes to blackmail me tonight, what will I do? I... I’ll be all alone at home tonight... I’ll be in for a big, long, troublesome night...]

With a coquettish wink, Miss Lilith slipped her strap off her shoulder and began her live performance—behind her, five more little foxes appeared!

They were actually rather good at dancing! It was the very routine Louis had taught them the other day, though he hadn’t filmed it at the time.

But this time, the dance was much hotter...

What did this mean? An invitation for tonight?

Louis blinked, suddenly wide awake.

It did seem these six little foxes were all serious trouble...

Just as he was enjoying himself, the door burst open—Helen rushed in, bubbling with excitement.

Both Louis and the foxes hurriedly tossed their crystal balls aside.

“Louis, Louis! News just came in! Quick, call Director Treve—you’ve apparently been assigned the Three of Hearts!”

Whether it was the Three of Hearts or not didn’t matter—what mattered was that Helen could hardly wait to visit London.

...

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