Chapter 482 Greedy Leh

Under the gentle touch of the morning light, the birds began their carefree chorus in the green shade of the manor. The owls, like the dewdrops condensed on the green leaves every morning, delivered the Daily Prophet to the house elves on time.

On one side of the stone steps, Kreacher followed the instructions of his master and carefully prepared delicious cat food and clear drinking water for the postman bird. Every owl that came to deliver letters liked such wizards who could let them rest comfortably after a long journey.

It contentedly scratched the food with its claws, and after enjoying this hearty breakfast, it once again gracefully flapped its wings and gradually merged into the bright sky.

"Master, your newspaper is ready." Kreacher stood by the bed in the bedroom and neatly arranged the toiletries one by one. It instructed other elves to push the clothes rack to the bedside and wait for Roger to choose today's outfit.

Roger rubbed his sleepy eyes and pointed his wand at the toiletries. Towels, toothbrushes, water, etc. flew up one by one, gently and meticulously helping him clean his face.

From Mrs. Greengrass, he learned the spell to organize the clutter. Following the same method, he also made the toiletries move.

He half leaned on the head of the bed, his eyes passed through the busy toiletries and fell on the newspaper in front of him.

Rita, like the previous few days, accused the Ministry of Magic of moral degradation on the front page. She accused them of stealing, cheating, and using the evil dragon crystal magic mirror to try to seize the newspaper market.

You know, not long ago, she was still speaking for Amelia. Roger secretly sighed that Rita was really a parrot without a stance.

Under Amelia's instructions, Miss Percy started her live broadcast on time at six o'clock every night, broadcasting the news and events of the British wizarding world that day to every corner of the wizarding world.

Wizards only need to sprinkle some light and shadow powder on the mirror to enjoy an hour of wonderful programs: half an hour of news and half an hour of music.

For example, there was a backflow explosion in the Muggle sewer, and a bizarre story of a biting teapot biting off two Muggle fingers... Of course, it also includes the recent actions of the Ministry of Magic, and the use of chaos in other magical circles to highlight the good governance of the British Ministry of Magic.

Videos are much more vivid than text, otherwise children would not prefer comic books instead of dictionaries. The same is true for adults.

This phenomenon has seriously affected the sales of newspapers, and at least some housewives have cancelled their subscriptions for next month. Rita, on behalf of all newspapers, fiercely criticized Minister Amelia in the newspaper.

"She is still so energetic." Roger smiled as he read the irresponsible hype in Rita's report, and couldn't help wondering where Rita and her Prophet newspaper were hiding.

He continued to flip through the newspaper and soon found a message about a visit to the American Magic Congress in an inconspicuous corner. The young reporter who wrote this report revealed in the article that their plan for this visit included purchasing the manufacturing process of dragon crystal magic mirrors and light and shadow powder.

"...The Ministry of Magic must not sell the wisdom of British wizards to the other side of the Atlantic at a low price. That is betrayal and selling out! Think about the tragedy of Floo powder. They were stolen quietly by those thieves. We didn't even receive a patent fee from a single Knut, or even a piece of apology..."

"Master, there is a guest visiting the fireplace." Kreacher reported respectfully, "Judging from the accent, he should be speaking English."

"Should?" Roger raised a playful smile at the corner of his mouth and teased, "I think it's at least easier to understand than an Irish accent."

A burly middle-aged man with a full beard appeared in front of the fireplace. He was wearing a dark suit and the badge of the American Magical Congress on his chest, looking solemn and majestic.

"Hello, Mr. Travis." He walked over with a smile and said admiringly, "I didn't expect the wizard who invented the Dragon Crystal Mirror to be so young."

"Oh, I actually forgot to introduce myself. My name is Potter." He paused for a moment, obviously satisfied with the surprise in Roger's eyes, "Abel Potter, an American Auror."

He flaunted his last name, as if enjoying the influence it brought to him in the British wizarding world.

Roger asked him to sit down and asked curiously: "This is an extraordinary last name, and you must be an extraordinary wizard. Maybe you have heard that there is a hero with the same last name as you here."

"Harry Potter, right?" Abel responded in his gentle voice with a hint of admiration in his tone, "I heard that he once defeated the Dark Lord, which is incredible. I heard that he was still a baby at that time."

"How amazing! Maybe hundreds of years ago, my ancestors and his ancestors came from the same family." His praise was so sincere that Roger almost believed that he was not a Death Eater.

He chatted leisurely with the American guest, showing no curiosity about his visit. As the sun gradually rose to the zenith, Abel realized that he could not delay any longer.

"Travis, I am here on behalf of the Magical Congress of the United States to discuss the purchase of the Dragon Crystal Mirror." Abel finally got to the point.

"Oh, of course." Roger clapped his hands, and the house elf quickly brought in a mirror that was more than one person tall. "I saw the relevant report in the newspaper. I thought you were more interested in the technology of mirrors and light and shadow powder."

The corners of Abel's mouth twitched involuntarily. The task assigned to him by Congress did include obtaining their manufacturing technology. After all, they didn't want to keep giving money to the British Ministry of Magic.

However, Amelia used the excuse of a private company to tell him that the Ministry of Magic had no right to interfere. He turned around helplessly and didn't even know which direction the door of the company that produced light and shadow powder opened.

Moreover, he had another more important task, a task from his real master. If Abel couldn't complete what Voldemort had told him, he would be waiting for an extremely cruel punishment.

"How could that be?" Abel said righteously, like an upright hero: "Our American wizard community attaches great importance to intellectual property rights and will never do dishonorable acts that infringe on the intellectual achievements of others."

"Tsk tsk tsk..." Roger smacked his lips, with a bit of contempt in his eyes, "During the War of Independence, your official organization did a lot of theft. I really don't know how you got the method of making Floo powder."

Abel smiled awkwardly, although they covered it up well, so that outsiders could not know about that shameful history. However, British wizards knew their shameless pirate behavior well. After all, they were once a family.

He even doubted whether the History of Magic course at Hogwarts would specifically talk about this history.

"Mr. Potter, the Dragon Crystal Mirror is indeed very popular in the market." Roger smiled, ready to kill two birds with one stone. "To be honest, the newspapers in the British wizarding world have not had a good time recently. Therefore, many people are interested in purchasing this kind of mirror."

"Such a popular product, why should I sell it to you who cut in line?" Roger shrugged and said in a light tone: "Unless you give me a price that is hard to refuse."

"Roger!" Abel's face immediately became gloomy, and he cursed in his heart: This kid dared to raise the price! Didn't Buck negotiate with him in advance?

Just as Abel was about to respond, the sky suddenly darkened, and a shadow enveloped the entire manor. A sunken ship with a broken hull in the middle, like a falling star, headed straight for Travis Manor.

"Wingardi Leviosa!" Roger quickly drew out his wand, and the strong beam of light shot out from the tip of the wand shocked Abel secretly.

He looked in the direction of the spell and saw that the huge sunken ship was gradually slowing down in the air. Finally, it was lifted up by a magical force and suspended in the air.

"Sorry, sir." Roger smiled demonstratively and said calmly, "I am a treasure hunter who loves sailing adventures. This ship is called the Central America, and it is a sunken ship."

Abel nodded woodenly. He was not blind. He could understand what it was from the seaweed and rusty metal on it. He knew even more clearly that this was the price Buck paid for the Dragon Crystal Mirror: a sunken ship full of treasures.

In fact, that was the wealth that the American Death Eaters should have.

Roger waved his wand again, and a shrinking spell enveloped the entire ship. In a blink of an eye, the huge Central America was like a sponge in the desert, shrinking visibly.

It shrank from the original 282 feet to 141 feet, 70 feet... and finally became only 1 foot in size, as if it was a ship model in a bottle.

"The sunken ship is flying." Roger whispered the flying spell and summoned the shrunken Central America in front of him. Then, he waved his wand and used spells such as "repair as new" and "clean as new" to repair the hull.

However, the head of the hull no longer existed, and there was a thumb-sized hole at the bottom. As the wand was gently shaken, countless gray-white tiny bones and golden gravel fell on the table.

The whole table immediately creaked under the weight, and Roger quickly fixed it with his wand to prevent the table from being crushed by these seemingly insignificant gold sands.

"Mr. Potter, you see, there is only this much gold inside." Roger pretended to be helpless and said, "I dare not speak loudly, for fear of blowing them away."

Hearing such shameless words, Abel almost spit out a mouthful of blood. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and tried to keep himself calm.

If it weren't for the shrinking spell, these yellow-orange gold sands would be enough to fill the entire room, and those white spots were the remains of the sunken ship that year.

"Your hobby is really strange." Abel tried his best to maintain politeness, even though he wanted to crush the other person to death in his heart.

He secretly sighed, no wonder the master said that Roger would sell the Dragon Crystal Mirror. It turned out that he was even greedier than those dwarfs in the Goblin Bank.

"Sir, I just want to know its price." Abel pointed to the Dragon Crystal Mirror next to him, his tone was urgent, and he obviously didn't want to stay in this place for a moment.

He cursed in his heart, wishing that Wormtail would take action immediately, destroy the entire manor, and kill the abominable guy in front of him.

"I don't want Galleons, I'm not interested in Galleons." Roger smiled hypocritically and blackmailed the Death Eater in front of him, "You know, I am an adventurous navigator."

"I heard that after the Mayflower was dismantled in Plymouth Harbor, you secretly transported it back to the United States and reassembled it. I have no other intentions, I just want to take a look. By the way, I want to see the tribal treasures that American wizards found in the New World."

"That's it?" Abel opened his eyes and mouth wide.

He thought that Rogge would ask for a huge amount of Galleons. Unexpectedly, the other party just wanted to visit the collection of the American Magic Congress.

"Of course, no problem!" Abel agreed excitedly and even wrote a letter of certification to Rogge on the spot, "Take this, you can visit the American Magic Congress at any time."

He was afraid that Rogge would regret it, so he put away the dragon crystal magic mirror and hurried into the fireplace without even saying goodbye.

Rogge smiled and began to carefully clean up the relics on the sunken ship. The remains were taken to the sea for burial by the elves to show respect for the deceased.

The gold bars and silver ingots were carefully sorted out, and each piece was shining with an attractive light. Rogge stacked them neatly and put them back into the exquisite wooden box.

There were also many postal parcels filled with various personal letters, carrying the lives and stories of the crew and guests. Commercial bills, some government documents of the colony, as well as photos, musical instruments, books...

This once glorious sea palace is now placed in a glass bottle in its broken state, becoming a decoration on Rogge's bookshelf. Those gold bars and silver ingots are also carefully displayed in the cabin and guest rooms like miniature models.

Suddenly, a low explosion came from the ground, and the whole manor was shaken.

"Kreacher, Cha Cha, you go to the library to protect them both." Rogge quickly put on his dragon skin robe, with a sharp light flashing in his eyes, and flew towards the direction of the sound.

The wings of Daedalus shone with cold light under the scorching sun, and each silver feather was as sharp as a dagger, exuding a terrifying breath.

Leh also took off from the ground, flapping its huge wings and bringing up a strong airflow, throwing the dragon cubs towards the rockery. It turned back and roared a few times, ordering them to get in and hide.

"Master, what happened?" Leh stared at the collapsing ground under his feet and asked nervously, "Are those guys who came to kill you below?"

"That's right." Rogge twisted his neck and stared sharply at the yellow smoke rising under his feet, which spread like a mushroom cloud in the sky.

Just as he was about to speak, Ariana's voice suddenly came out in his mind: "Does Rogge need help? I can..."

Rogge was slightly stunned, and then quickly interrupted the voice in his mind. Do the people of the Dumbledore family like to hang out in other people's minds so much? He waved his hand in the direction of the library, signaling them not to come out.

As the power of the explosion just now gradually dissipated, the collapse gradually stopped. With the forge as the center, a huge deep pit with a diameter of 100 feet formed on the ground.

The smoke gradually dissipated, the sun shone through the clouds, and a huge underground world was exposed before their eyes. The walls of the deep pit were covered with countless passages, and the goblins were busy opening up the collapsed ones. Those holes were like the eyes of flies, densely covering the entire wall.

Rogge's eyes quickly swept over, but he did not find the figure of Peter or the mouse. In the blink of an eye, countless snakemen emerged from the tunnel. They were like living zombies, moving quickly, and climbing along the wall like geckos. Looking at the large number of snakemen under his feet, Rogge also felt his scalp tingling.

"Leh, attack them, and don't let any of them come up." Rogge ordered, and at the same time he flew high to look for the traces of Wormtail Peter.

Leh looked down at the snakemen as dense as ants below, with a gleam of contempt in his eyes. It commanded the other two dragon heads to spit out hot flames and bone-eroding venom quickly and violently.

Under the burning dragon's breath, the venom turned into invisible green poisonous mist, seeping into the scaly bodies of the snakemen. The first batch of snakemen that rushed out melted like snow in the violent flames before they even had time to feel the pain of bone erosion.

In an instant, the air was filled with the smell of burning. Lech greedily sucked every trace of burnt smell in the air, swooped down, and swallowed dozens of snakemen in one gulp. It secretly glanced up and saw that Rogge seemed to be looking for something and didn't care about its actions.

The huge dragon's teeth intertwined in the bloody mouth, and the snakemen's tough scaly skin was as fragile as paper under Lech's sharp teeth. The delicious flesh and blood burst in the dragon's mouth, and the barbed tongue gently licked it, leaving only bones with countless scratches.

Lech casually spit out the bones and swallowed more snakemen. The dragon head in charge of venom seemed particularly excited because it tasted a faint sense of anesthesia from the snakemen's blood. It was like a silver needle piercing the tip of the tongue, a slightly spicy and refreshing stimulation that made it unable to stop.

Peter, hiding deep underground, watched Lech killing everyone, his eyes flashing with fear. He clenched his silver hand and ordered more snakemen to rush over. He thought in his heart that even if the snakemen could not defeat Lech, their numbers could kill him. Not to mention, the toxins in their bodies...

"Hehe, it's almost there, almost there." Wormtail Peter showed a sinister smile on his face. He felt secretly proud in his heart as he looked at Lech who was eating with relish.