As long as the gold continued to circulate within the vaults, wizards would hold ownership in name, while goblins retained actual control.
For goblins, who valued treasure as life itself, that temptation was far more lethal than mere profit margins.
"No wonder you are the Tom Riddle who authored The Pure Blood Register. Your scholarship is impressive."
Famur offered flattery before continuing, "But the ratio you propose is still too high. Give me time. I will do my utmost to secure at least thirty percent for you."
Tom's right hand turned lightly, and a top hat appeared.
Famur's expression shifted. Was the negotiation collapsing?
Tom rose from his seat and nudged the silver card further across the desk.
"Seven days. I will return in seven days. You have that long to consider. You may also attempt to crack my technology."
"If I do not receive a satisfactory answer, I will negotiate directly with Gringotts branches in Britain, France, and elsewhere. As for goblin unity… we both know how reliable that is."
He smiled faintly at the stunned goblin and left the office without another word.
"United as goblins" was practically a legendary joke in the wizarding world. Throughout history, goblin rebellions had often been dissolved with nothing more than bribes. On one occasion, three ringleaders were bribed simultaneously. The revolt collapsed into internal conflict over uneven distribution.
If Tom released his offer strategically and adjusted the profit share slightly, multiple branches would gladly challenge headquarters for it.
The true strength of his position lay elsewhere.
The card system combined his mastery of magical encryption and long distance communication with certain newly acquired arcane refinements. Even Nicolas Flamel might require years to decipher it.
Goblins?
Alchemists?
They would never crack it in their lifetime.
Technological monopoly was Tom's greatest leverage.
If he were not eager to complete his trial quickly, he could have gradually constructed his own independent financial network.
But in truth, the outcome would be similar.
Whatever goblins earned would still rest in Gringotts.
Which meant, in essence, it was being held for him.
...
Back at Newt's residence, Tom accompanied Fleur into the small world to visit the Horned Serpent.
Despite its 5X classification, the creature proved unexpectedly gentle. Perhaps Usagi's watchful presence in the skies contributed to that docility.
No matter how much Tom and Fleur teased or pestered it, the serpent remained cooperative, even carrying them along as it wound through marshland and forest.
Only when Fleur was thoroughly exhausted did they return to the villa.
After her earlier traumatic experience with cupping therapy, Fleur wisely avoided sleeping in Tom's room.
The moment she lay down elsewhere, Tom entered the learning space.
"Ariana, are you ready?"
"Yes! This time I will win!" Ariana clenched her small fists with fierce determination.
Outside the meditation chamber, the field cleared instantly. In a breath, it transformed into a dueling ground.
More than half a year had passed since Ariana first faced Grindelwald directly and demanded a duel.
In those months, they had fought every few days.
Every single time, she lost.
Worse still, after the holiday began, Grindelwald had raised his simulated skill level by another year. He now matched the proficiency he possessed in his fifth year at Durmstrang, near the age when he and Dumbledore once battled in equal fury.
Victory had grown even more elusive.
That was why Ariana had been sullen these past days.
But today she summoned Tom as referee, brimming with confidence.
He already suspected why.
"Ariana. Begin."
Grindelwald smiled lightly, wand angled toward the girl.
"Avada Kedavra."
Green light slashed forward.
No one flinched. He opened with the Killing Curse every time, a morbid habit.
Ariana did not blink. Her wand swept downward.
Two iron constructs erupted from the ground.
The curse struck one square in the chest, denting the metal but failing to pierce through. Grindelwald's robes flared as he vanished and reappeared behind her, firing two more spells.
Clang. Clang.
The constructs absorbed the impact. Loyal guardians shielding their summoner.
Andros watched approvingly. "You once said your headmaster excelled in Transfiguration. Seems the Dumbledore family truly inherited that talent."
"From ignorance to surpassing most adult wizards in half a year. Remarkable."
"Such a pity," Tom murmured. "Had Ariana lived, she would likely stand second only to Dumbledore."
Her talent was extraordinary. Even the system had once classified her as possessing potential for the title "King of the Century."
But potential alone did not defeat the dark wizard before her.
Grindelwald's expression sharpened. His wand movements grew precise and devastating. Brilliant arcs of light tore through the air, hammering against the iron guardians. Without Ariana's constant repairs, they would already lie shattered.
Using the Killing Curse against transfigured constructs was foolish. Grindelwald adjusted tactics instantly.
His wand struck the ground.
A wave of acrid sulfuric acid surged outward.
Then with a graceful upward flick, a colossal hammer materialized above and crashed down.
Momentum and mass combined. One construct exploded into fragments.
The hammer dissolved midair into writhing serpents that coiled around the second construct, immobilizing it as acid flooded over its surface, corroding it into ruin.
Ariana's strongest strategy was neutralized.
The floor lay flooded with corrosive liquid, preventing further transfiguration.
Ordinarily, she would concede here.
But today she glared at Grindelwald with blazing fury. Dark vapor curled around her like smoke from a rising inferno.
"You old thief! You stole my brother and bully me too! Today I will tear you apart!"
The next instant, her form burst apart.
In her place surged a tide of black mist.
Wind roared.
The Obscurus, heavy with pure destructive intent, hurtled toward Grindelwald like a living storm.
Tom leaned back with a wicked grin.
"Old man's in trouble now…"