"Impossible?! How are you still alive!"
The younger boy cried out, his voice filled with disbelief.
"Never mind that!"
The older boy practically roared, "Act now! Hurry up and do it!"
The next moment.
BOOM!!!!
A deafening explosion suddenly erupted.
[Written here, I hope readers remember our domain Taiwan Web Novel Library has many books, read anytime]
A powerful shockwave swept out from the depths of the shop, and only then did Borgin on the other side of the counter seem to realize that strangers had appeared in his store.
Of course, there wasn't much of a "person" to be seen now.
Because the entire shop had been completely pierced through.
The space originally filled with countless Dark Arts items was torn apart by a perfectly straight trajectory.
In the center of the shop, a "passageway" still radiating high heat remained, the ground charred black, the air sizzling.
And at the end of this mess.
Only one person was still standing.
The man covered in soot.
He looked down at his hands, his expression dazed, as if even he couldn't understand what had just happened.
"This..."
"I did this?!"
Thorne currently felt that.
This "tourist experience" coming to Diagon Alley was absolutely terrible.
First, this damn mode of transport, not only spewing him out of a fireplace but also covering him in soot.
His already worn clothes were completely ruined; right now, he looked exactly like a tramp commonly seen in Knockturn Alley.
Thorne was already in a bad mood.
And when he looked up and saw the situation clearly, his expression instantly became even more spectacular.
Over there.
Stood two very familiar-looking people.
No, two bugs.
Thorne had seen this type of creature on the outskirts of Holy Nest.
They were the swarming, treasure-scavenging "Thiefbugs".
He had even traded with one of them before.
A spider friend had told him that as long as these annoying bugs were freely active, no scattered Geo or treasure could ever be considered safe.
But then...
They weren't stealing his things.
Thorne hadn't originally planned to intervene, and was even thinking of casually asking:
How do I get to the Leaky Cauldron?
After all, Hagrid had said to meet him there.
But he never expected.
These two bugs—oh no, these two people, without a word, directly hit him with a spell.
Although,
The spell didn't seem all that powerful; it just knocked him flying and gave him a nosebleed.
Thorne felt he had to teach them a lesson.
However, the next instant, he also realized.
The other side had wands.
He didn't even have a bone nail.
Go for hand-to-hand combat?
That would be too stupid.
But.
He did have spells.
Thorne immediately acted.
And then...
It turned into the current situation.
Looking at the shop pierced through by a single strike, then looking down at his own hands, the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
"...Why is this spell's power so absurdly strong in reality?!"
Vengeful Spirit.
Condensing the soul within the body, guiding its inherent negative emotions, allowing them to release immense destructive power in an extremely short time.
For Thorne, this was hardly a profound magic.
In Holy Nest, it was just one of the conventional methods used to clear a path.
This spell was taught to him by a talkative Snail responsible for guarding the ancestral graves in Holy Nest.
In fact, Thorne had learned various new magics from quite a few Snails.
However, this was probably the only one personally taught to him by a living Snail.
Back when dealing with those bugs, the power of this spell was nowhere near its current level.
Thorne stood in place, looking at the scene before him, his brow slightly furrowed.
The smaller Thiefbug had half its body gone, not even able to let out a scream.
The larger Thiefbug had lost its wand and an entire arm, and was now lying on the floor emitting a piercing wail.
A bulging leather wallet rolled from beside him, finally stopping at Thorne's feet.
The shop was in complete disarray.
Broken shelves, overturned counters, charred ground, and the lingering magical aftershocks in the air.
At the doorway stood a dumbfounded Cricket, and another Thiefbug clearly scared out of its wits.
Outside the shop, many bugs were poking their heads in, looking and chattering.
Thorne looked down at his hand, then at this post-disaster scene.
"...Could it be because I scaled it up proportionally?"
"So the power increased along with it?"
While he was still seriously pondering this, he suddenly heard a sharp incantation.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Thorne looked up.
He saw the Cricket had already raised its wand, a beam of spell-light accurately hitting the only remaining standing Thiefbug, which immediately stiffened and fell straight down.
The Cricket snorted coldly, its tone gloomy:
"Really had the nerve to target me, very well..."
Then, it glared fiercely at the bugs watching the commotion outside the door.
The next moment, those onlookers scattered like frightened birds and beasts, as if nothing had happened.
The Cricket took a deep breath, its expression quickly softening, then turned to Thorne with a beaming smile.
"This... sir."
"Thank you very much for helping me deal with these little rats."
Thorne was taken aback by this sudden change in attitude and pursed his lips:
"Uh... you don't suspect I'm with them?"
"Of course not."
The Cricket waved its hands repeatedly, its tone so natural it seemed utterly accustomed.
"I know, there are always people heading to the Leaky Cauldron who end up here by mistake for various reasons."
"Other shops encounter this situation often too."
Hearing this, Thorne nodded in understanding.
Oh, so the other party really wasn't encountering this for the first time.
As long as they didn't take him for a thief, that was fine.
He glanced at the "mess" on the floor and asked with a slightly awkward tone:
"Then... these bugs, oh no, people, should we call the police?"
The Cricket immediately shook its head, shaking it with great firmness.
"No, no, no, no need to trouble yourself."
"I'll handle the aftermath, you just go about your business."
As it spoke, it casually picked up the leather wallet on the floor, right by Thorne's feet, and firmly stuffed it into Thorne's hand.
Thorne didn't even have time to react.
The next moment, he was half-pushed, half-guided to the shop entrance.
By the time he came to his senses, he was already standing on the street of Knockturn Alley.
And the door to that shop slowly closed behind him.
Thorne looked down at the wallet in his hand, then up at the gloomy alleyway.
"..."
"Does this count as... passively doing a heroic deed?"
Borgin watched the man leave, not until his figure completely disappeared at the alley entrance did he raise a hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.
He looked back inside the shop.
A mess everywhere, shattered shelves, charred marks, and residual warmth not yet dissipated.
Borgin couldn't help but shiver.
Good grief.
Such a person had coincidentally barged into his shop.
A single spell causing this level of destruction... terrifying, absolutely terrifying.
What made Borgin's heart pound even more was.
The other party had just performed wandless magic.
Borgin clicked his tongue, muttering to himself.
This level of magical skill was probably several tiers above those Aurors at the Ministry of Magic, right?
Frightening, truly frightening.
Borgin only hoped he would never encounter this character again.
Fortunately, he reacted quickly enough, not letting the other party extort him on the spot.
He shook his head, forcing himself to calm down, and began cleaning up the utterly ruined shop.
However, not long after.
"Sir."
Borgin's movements froze stiffly.
He turned around almost rigidly, only to see the man standing at the doorway, having returned unnoticed.
...He was back.
Borgin's heart sank.
"...Sir, is there something you need?"
Thorne scratched the tip of his nose somewhat sheepishly, his tone carrying a hint of awkwardness.
"Uh, sorry, I forgot to ask, that—"
"I have three thousand Galleons in my safe, I can get them for you right now."
Borgin blurted out almost reflexively.
Thorne was taken aback and quickly waved his hands.
"N-no, no, no, not that! I'm not here for money."
Borgin's gaze grew increasingly wary.
Thorne hurriedly explained: "I just wanted to ask for directions... Excuse me, how do I get to the Leaky Cauldron?"
Borgin stared at Thorne's face, which looked exceptionally sincere, fell silent for a few seconds, then revealed a complex and subtle expression.
"Sir, please stop testing me."
"The shop really... only has three thousand Galleons."
Thorne: "..."
He scratched his head somewhat speechlessly.
"No, I really just want directions. I genuinely don't know how to get to the Leaky Cauldron."
The light gradually faded from Borgin's eyes.
Silence.
After a long while, he sighed, as if completely resigned to his fate.
"Alright... you've tested me out."
"Actually, under the counter... there's another thousand Galleons."
Thorne's eyes instantly widened.
"No, no, no! You've misunderstood! I'm really not here to rob you!"
Borgin looked at him, his tone full of collapse and helplessness.
"Sir, please stop testing me, really."
"In the British wizarding world—even if someone doesn't know where their mother lives, nobody doesn't know where the Leaky Cauldron is!!"