Yaxley was now alone, his mind a blank slate of shock, but he remained standing stubbornly, glaring fiercely at Alan.
"Heh, a dead duck with a stiff beak, it seems. Now, allow me to introduce a good friend," Alan chuckled softly.
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a metal four-finger knuckle duster, then spoke slowly. "This friend of mine is called 'Return My Pretty Fist.' It's made entirely of Agriba Alloy, and I've enchanted all four rings with Pain Amplification runes. At the same time, both sides are inscribed with powerful Healing Charms. I guarantee that even if you're hit by this friend of mine for a year, you won't have a single visible injury on your body."
After the explanation, Alan slipped the knuckle duster onto his right hand and delivered a solid hook to Yaxley's jaw. The powerful punch sent Yaxley flying over two meters, where he crashed heavily onto the dusty wooden floor.
"How about it? Is there anything you want to say?" Alan asked softly, stepping onto Yaxley's head to pin him down.
"Bah! The honor of a pure-blood family is not something you can defile!" Even with his face pressed against the floor, Yaxley spat fiercely, bracing his hands to struggle desperately against Alan's foot.
"So tough. I really admire people with such strong wills. I hope you can stay firm; it would be a shame if I had to look down on you," Alan sneered coldly.
Still pinning the boy's head, Alan crouched down and grabbed Yaxley's right hand. He gripped the fingers firmly, then with a sudden, forceful twist, snapped the bone.
"Ah!!!"
With ten fingers connected to his heart, Yaxley couldn't endure the excruciating pain. He let out a miserable shriek. Alan remained indifferent to the screams, wasting no words as he methodically broke each of the boy's fingers, one by one.
"Ah!! Alan, you bastard! If you have the guts, kill me! Otherwise I will never let you go, I will kill you!" Yaxley's eyes were bloodshot from the agony, and he began to curse Alan viciously.
"Heh heh, I'm sorry. I accidentally hurt you just now, didn't I? Now, I'll find a way to heal you," Alan said in a gentle tone, completely unaffected by the verbal assault.
Though his words were gentle, his actions were anything but. He raised his right fist and fiercely smashed it onto the hands he had just broken, the magical impact forcing the shattered fingers back into place.
"Your chest must have been injured by my spell earlier, too. Let me take this opportunity to properly heal that area," Alan said. He proceeded to heavily pummel Yaxley's chest, abdomen, and face. His fist was like a pile driver, striking down with rhythmic, heavy thuds.
The knuckle duster didn't just double the intense pain of the impact; it amplified the pain of every existing wound. Even more terrifying was the healing effect; no matter how severe the internal damage, a flurry of punches ensured the physical evidence was gone.
"Ah ah ah…" By now, Yaxley had lost the ability to think. He felt only a continuous, crushing agony, as if a Tebo warthog were trampling back and forth over him. His hands felt like a void, as if they were no longer a part of him.
Listening to the agonizing screams, the wizards crouching in the corner were terrified. Cold sweat broke out across their brows, and their bodies trembled uncontrollably. The shrill sound echoed through the empty room, making their heads throb. After "treating" Yaxley for several minutes, Alan finally straightened up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and let out a long sigh. Beating someone was tiring work.
The winter air outside was freezing, yet Yaxley was soaked with sweat, his voice hoarse from wailing. He lay on the ground, eyes rolling back, his body twitching.
"How about it? Will you accept my suggestion?" Alan asked, looking down at the exhausted boy. He raised his right hand again as if preparing to strike should the answer be unsatisfactory.
"Yes, yes, I accept! I accept! Please, stop hitting me, stop hitting me," Yaxley begged with tears in his eyes, his voice a mere rasp. He just wanted to escape this devil.
Alan nodded with satisfaction and turned to the crouching crowd, offering a benevolent smile. "Now it's your turn. Everyone, you've all suffered quite a few injuries, haven't you? I'll personally heal you!"
Alan looked around, his gaze landing on Milly Osborne. "Let's start with you."
"No!" Milly looked at Alan's eyes and felt a chill run through her soul. She scrambled up and ran for the door, desperate to leave this cursed place.
Before she could take three steps, her feet were locked by an invisible force, and she tripped hard. Her legs were then lifted as if by invisible hands, and she was dragged back to Alan's side.
Looking at Milly's frightened eyes and swollen cheeks, Alan chuckled softly. "Look at you. You were punched earlier, and your face is all swollen. Let me give you a proper treatment."
He leaned down and delivered a right hook.
"Ah!" Milly felt a piercing, bone-deep pain shoot straight into her brain, and tears streamed uncontrollably.
"Don't cry! Weren't you very brave when you slapped Vivian? Come on, keep that spirit up!" Alan encouraged her. Then he served her a series of hooks. "The corner of your mouth is a bit broken; it needs a hit here. Look, your chin is bruised; it needs two punches here."
The scene made the hearts of the onlookers twitch. They watched as Alan beat Milly from a bruised mess back into a beautiful young woman. Not only were her injuries gone, but even her blemishes had vanished. But looking at Milly's tear-streaked face, she didn't seem to be enjoying the results.
"Hehehe." After tossing aside Milly, who no longer had the strength to cry, Alan smiled at the sweating people beside her. "Now it's your turn. I can't let you go back with injuries like that; my reputation would be ruined if word got out."
Wails and howls soon filled the small room, though the sounds couldn't escape the Shield Charm Alan had cast over the house. Anyone who tried to escape was simply dragged back and punished with extra punches. The others quickly learned their lesson and simply endured the blows.
After some time, looking at the limp crowd on the floor, Alan smiled. "The injuries are healed. Now it's question time. From now on, I'm in charge of you lot. Who's for it, and who's against it?"
Everyone trembled and quickly replied, "For it! We're for it!"
"Good. Given Yaxley's poor attitude earlier, there must be a punishment. I've decided..." Alan's eyes darted around. "Starting this month, each of you will pay 20 Galleons in protection fees. If you don't have the coin, you can use an equivalent item to offset it. Understood?"
Upon hearing the excessive demand, the wizards looked troubled, but having just endured the beating, they could only grit their teeth and agree.
"Good. Thank you for your cooperation. The monthly protection fee will be collected by..." Alan scanned the room, then looked at Rozier. "...Rozier will be responsible for the collection. Don't worry, everyone; I'm not a devil. Having collected your fees, I will naturally protect you all."
"Yes, yes, of course." Everyone looked at Alan as he spoke such shameless words, but out of fear, they could only meekly agree.
"One more thing: if you try to get your families involved, or if you try to default on your payment..." Alan looked at the knuckle duster in his hand. "Then don't blame me for inviting my friend here to collect the debt. Don't worry, this friend of mine is an expert at healing; I guarantee he'll cure all your injuries."
Alan wasn't lying; the Healing Charm on the knuckle duster was a highly optimized, advanced version. Everyone looked at the metal rings, swallowed nervously, and nodded frantically.
"A friendly reminder: compared to Galleons, I prefer rare books and alchemical materials. If you can satisfy me, I might even offer a premium. As for your wands, they will be returned once you reach Hogwarts and pay your first month's fee."