I, the leader of the esoteric sect, am doing great things in the infinite world!

The dark wizard shopkeeper, who was sitting in the shop, stood up, but obediently lowered his head under the red light flicked by Li Lin's finger. He then took out the magically notarized land deed and cleanly and neatly altered the name on it.

—The soul leaves the body.

“This is our shop now.” Li Lin sat comfortably behind the counter. “We’ll go get more stock tomorrow.”

"Yes," the black wizard replied obediently, then quickly went out.

Sirius Black showed no signs of discomfort and felt no burden whatsoever when the Dark Wizard used the Imperius Curse.

Why open a shop here?

Sirius Black didn't quite understand this. In his opinion, if Li Lin had displayed the power he had just shown, it wouldn't have been difficult for him to break into the Weasleys' house and capture Peter Pettigrew alive.

"Hmph, the wisdom of mortals." Li Lin sat behind the counter, fumbled for a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and put them on with great joy.

Finding this exclusive equipment that boosts health made Li Lin very happy, so he decided to answer the question seriously.

"First, I don't know where the Weasleys live, and second, I'm going to be making counterfeit money here."

It's astonishing that he hasn't given up on the idea of ​​forging Galleons.

88 The wheels of history keep turning.

Hogwarts Castle.

The school's main tower, the principal's office.

An old man with a white beard sat at his desk, looking at the letters flying back and forth in front of him with a worried expression.

Albus Dumbledore—the most powerful white wizard of his time, a living epic, a walking legend, a man feared by two generations of Dark Lords, and also possessing a head of flowing, handsome hair.

His desk was piled high with letters from the Ministry of Magic, while a constant stream of letters continued to fly out of the fireplace and hover above the ceiling.

He reached out and took a letter; the parchment jumped out of the letter on its own, unfolded, and had only one line of text written on it in black ink.

"The Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald destroyed Azkaban prison, and none of the prisoners survived."

The entire Azkaban prison was razed to the ground by an extremely vicious curse. When the Ministry of Magic's strikers rushed back, dark blue Fiendfire was raging on the ruins of Azkaban, and even the seawater could not extinguish it.

In the end, the Ministry of Magic had to send fifty strikers to simultaneously use the Ending Charm to forcibly suppress the remaining Fiendfire and extinguish it completely.

Among the letters that arrived, certain phrases were highlighted in red ink, and they repeatedly suggested that Gellert Grindelwald's deliberate visit to England to destroy Azkaban was a demonstration against Albus Dumbledore.

Officials at the Ministry of Magic believe that only Dumbledore can curb Grindelwald's arrogance in the face of his resurgence.

They attempted to "temporarily" remove Dumbledore from his position as headmaster of Hogwarts, and to recreate the legendary duel of yesteryear, ultimately defeating Grindelwald.

After thinking for a while, Dumbledore finally picked up a piece of parchment, grabbed a quill, and hurriedly wrote a few words on it.

After he stopped writing, Dumbledore waved his wand, and the parchment folded automatically, turning into a paper airplane that flew into the fireplace.

Less than fifteen minutes later, an anxious female voice, accompanied by footsteps, approached from afar.

The office door opened automatically.

"Albus, I'm glad to see you sitting in your office. To be honest, the things that have happened recently have caught us all off guard. I hope it won't affect the new students Hogwarts will be admitting. And I must say, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you about the approval of research funding."

The tall, black-haired witch in a dark green robe reached out and adjusted her pointed wizard hat, which had tilted slightly as she walked quickly.

Minerva McGonagall, Vice-Headmistress of Hogwarts, Head of Gryffindor, Transfiguration Master, and a passionate Quidditch enthusiast.

Dumbledore gave a helpless look, smiled gently, and then waved his wand. The letters that had been fluttering in the air fell down one by one and quietly stacked into a pile.

"Would you like some lemon-shabu candy, Minerva?"

Dumbledore handed a plate of lemon-yellow hard candy to the witch in front of him.

"no thank you."

Professor McGonagall shook her head. She had never been a fan of Dumbledore's tastes, and besides, this wasn't the time for sweets.

"Well, that's a pity."

Dumbledore happily took the plate of lemon sorbet back, seemingly quite relieved about it.

He picked up one of the letters and handed it over: "Take a look at this, Minerva."

The magical letter opened automatically in Professor McGonagall's hand, and a parchment slip jumped out. However, as she continued reading, Professor McGonagall's brow gradually furrowed.

“What kind of joke is the Ministry of Magic making! I cannot agree to this. Even when Voldemort was rampaging, we were never this panicked, Albus. If I were to reply to these letters, I would throw them all into the furnace.”

“Relax, Minerva.” Dumbledore smiled. “The Ministry of Magic’s letter is just an interesting idea.”

“In fact, it’s not just an idea; they want you to become a wand that’s being held in someone’s hand.” McGonagall’s tone softened slightly. “In any case, the destruction of Azkaban does not prove that Grindelwald was behind it.”

"That's actually what I think too."

Dumbledore smiled gently, then rose from the high-backed chair that belonged to the headmaster.

"Albus, are you going out?" McGonagall looked at the scene with some shock.

“That’s right.” Dumbledore gazed at the Hogwarts sky outside the window. “You know me, Minerva… I should go to Azkaban anyway, and if it really is him, he must have left some trace.”

“What if it isn’t?” McGonagall asked worriedly.

“If not…” Dumbledore paused at the door, pondered for a moment, then turned and picked up a lemon-flavored candy from the plate, put it in his mouth, and mumbled, “Then let the young people worry about it.”

A classic Dumbledore-esque answer.

......

"Death Eaters, come out and greet your king!"

Li Lin kicked open the door of the prank shop. Sirius Black was sitting idly in front of the counter. When Tom the snowy owl saw Li Lin come in, he excitedly flapped his wings and flew to Li Lin's shoulder.

"Well done, Tom. I'll make you the Dark Lord."

The shop they took over is still empty, and it will be about another week before those strange and wonderful magical goods arrive.

Sirius Black is looking for Peter Pettigrew, who is currently hiding in the Weasley family in the form of a mouse. A year ago, the Weasley twins, George and Fred, had just started school, and Ron would have to wait another year to receive his Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Sirius Black, who considered himself a righteous man, would never be like Voldemort, breaking into a wizard's house just to kill a rat.

Li Lin took out a rat he had bought on the way from his pocket, a green light flashed in his palm, and he cut it into several pieces and fed it to Tom.

The good habit of catching mice should be cultivated from a young age.

Seeing that Sirius remained unmoved, Li Lin, even more excited than usual, rolled his eyes and went to Sirius's side.

A sharp, eerie voice echoed: "Alas, the autumn goose, broken in straits, can never return in pairs—"

Lost in thought, Sirius almost jumped out of his chair: "What are you doing!"

"I'm exporting culture," Li Lin answered honestly.

The little snowy owl on my shoulder cawed twice, as if it were laughing.

"What?" Sirius seemed to put on a mask of pain.

"Wait a minute, what's wrong with talking like that? Hey, tell me, so you don't like it anymore... How cold-hearted of you, huh? I let you see something unpleasant. Maybe true beauty only exists in the world of anime?"

Sirius Black immediately became restless, feeling as if he had been tickled all over.

Today, Li Lin seems even more torturous.

It's not that Li Lin doesn't torture people normally, but now that he's spouting anime quotes, the level of torture he inflicts is ten times greater than usual.

Sirius Black picked up the water glass with trembling hands.

His hands trembled so badly that he struggled several times to bring the cup to his lips. In the end, he gave up on the idea of ​​moistening his throat and put the cup back in its place.

"What...are you saying?"

“I laugh at the Black family, who have been around for a thousand years, for not knowing that what I’m saying is all official terminology from the Magic Institute.”

Overwhelmed with excitement, Sirius forgot to retort: ​​"The Magic Academy? You mean the magic school in Japan out of the eleven magic schools? Did they really say that?!"

Don't tell me you don't understand Japanese.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius clutched his chest: "Of course I wouldn't... In fact, the Institute of Magic has the fewest students among the eleven magic schools, and their connections with the international magic community are even fewer than those of Kunlun Academy."

As the author of Harry Potter, Rowling certainly wouldn't be so idle as to go and complete all eleven magic schools early on.

First, this is a thankless task, as it doesn't count towards the word count and doesn't earn any payment; second, leaving some blank space makes it easier to fill in the gaps later.

But anyone with a brain would know that in China, where the pursuit of "having what others don't have and being better at what others have" is a must, it's impossible for there not to be a magic school of its own.

Aside from the eight magic schools that have already been established, there are three magic schools that Rowling has not mentioned. Two of them are located in Asia, one of which is Kunlun Academy, located on the roof of the world, at the highest altitude.

"So why are you so excited today?" Sirius asked, realizing what was happening.

89. The blankets were full of Galleons.

Li Lin naturally wouldn't tell Sirius Black that he was going to have a secret rendezvous with Miss Nian in his dreams.

In a rather pleasant mood, Master Li let go of Sirius, who seemed to have been tormented by the Cruciatus Curse, and happily went up to the attic.

After locking the door, a dark green tabletop rose up in front of me.

The desktop was piled high with mysterious and infamous names; if all of them were laid out, they would probably cover two-thirds of the desktop.

That's normal. Just Li Lin's actions of being imprisoned, blowing up the prison, and escaping are enough to increase his infamy by dozens of accolades.

Recalling how he had gone to great lengths to obtain those ten evil titles in the esoteric world, Li Lin couldn't help but sigh that he was still too naive back then and needed to learn a lesson from his past experiences.