After listening intently to the intelligence provided by the cunning goblin, the three mbers of Bryan's group maintained their thoughtful silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they processed what they had just heard.
Alia had a troubled frown. Her eyes had an unmistakable expression of distrust as she surveyed their surroundings with new scrutiny and growing unease.
Looking at this bar they were sitting in—everywhere she looked, there were illegal criminal enterprises.
Coming back to her senses, she even realized that many of the bar's patrons looked familiar, as if they were criminals that the Security Departnt had issued warrants for to various departnts—criminals they desperately needed to apprehend.
And the goblin who operated such an establishnt was itself utterly wicked and corrupt. How much credibility could possibly exist in words that erged from such a tainted and unreliable source?
Furthermore, during the less than twelve months that had passed since she had officially joined MACUSA and begun her career, Alia had personally witnessed or heard detailed accounts of at least two or three separate incidents where Director Graves had personally and successfully arrested particularly vicious criminals.
Everyone throughout the departnt knew that Director Graves was a wizard of extraordinary magical capability and prowess. If he truly suffered from the serious health problems that Gnarlak claid, how could he possibly continue to possess and demonstrate such remarkable abilities in high-stakes confrontations with dangerous magical criminals?
Moreover, she had been in close personal contact with Director Graves just the last night, and throughout their entire conversation, she hadn't detected even the slightest indication that anything might be dically wrong with him.
Unlike the idealistic young Alia, Remus had large and hard-won experience in the depths of the underground wizarding world. Through years of necessity and survival, he had understanding of the capabilities possessed by various information brokers, black market dealers, and criminal interdiaries who operated here.
Based on this accumulated knowledge and street wisdom, he was inclined to believe that the intelligence Gnarlak had provided contained at least considerable elents of truth, despite the questionable character of its source.
However, what genuinely concerned him was determining how much practical value this particular intelligence still retained given the passage of ti and changing circumstances.
After all, Gnarlak had specifically ntioned that Graves had apparently stopped purchasing experintal potions from black market sources, and the goblin himself had admitted that it remained uncertain whether Graves had finally achieved so form of recovery or had simply found alternative thods of managing his condition.
Even if Graves hadn't recovered completely from whatever mysterious illness had struck him, would Bryan realistically be able to succeed where the finest healers in both Arica and Europe had apparently failed?
Remus had heard Sirius describe in detail the lengthy, complex process involved in Frank and Alice's miraculous recovery from their Cruciatus Curse-induced insanity.
Their particular situation had unique characteristics that had made Bryan's innovative treatnt approach possible, and one certainly couldn't conclude from this single success that Bryan possessed healing expertise equal to his well-known abilities in magical destruction and combat.
"When exactly did he stop purchasing potions from the black market?" Bryan asked after several monts of contemplation.
"Around October of last year," Gnarlak replied with a casual shrug. "The person who specializes in selling such exotic potions complained bitterly to when he ca to drink at my bar during the Christmas holidays, lanting that he had lost what had been a remarkably steady and profitable source of inco."
"What are your thoughts on this situation, Bryan?" Remus asked quietly, leaning slightly closer to ensure their conversation remained private despite the ambient noise of the tavern around them.
"Difficult to determine with any certainty based on the limited information we currently know," Bryan responded thoughtfully, his mind working through various possibilities and scenarios as he spoke.
"If there truly exists so form of dark magic powerful enough to trouble a wizard of Graves' caliber for seven or eight continuous years, then the most probable explanation would be that the curse's vital damage is irreversible through conventional healing thods.
Given that assessnt, I'm more inclined to believe that he managed to discover a more effective way to suppress or manage his symptoms rather than achieving any kind of genuine cure."
Bryan paused, his sharp gaze turned distant.
"However, to make any definitive judgnt about the specific nature of his situation and the potential treatnt options that might be available, I would need to examine him personally."
Bryan's attention returned to the goblin, who had been listening to their exchange with interest and satisfaction.
"What specific types of potions was he purchasing from black market sources before he stopped these transactions?" Bryan inquired to Gnarlak.
"Oh, my dear Mr. Watson," Gnarlak responded with obvious delight, as though he had been anticipating precisely this follow-up question throughout their entire conversation.
It took a mont to tap accumulated ash from his expensive cigar into the pewter ashtray beside his elbow. When he raised his head to face Bryan directly, his facial features had arranged themselves into an unmistakably sly smile.
"That particular information would constitute an entirely separate transaction from our current agreent, naturally."
Remus's brow imdiately furrowed with irritation, and he opened his mouth to voice what was undoubtedly going to be a sharp objection to this continued escalation of the goblin's demands.
However, before he could speak, Bryan raised one hand and asked calmly.
"What do you want?"
"Conducting business with soone of your reputation and capabilities is far more pleasant and profitable than I had initially imagined, Mr. Watson," Gnarlak replied, baring his yellowed, pointed teeth in an expression of undisguised greed.
The goblin's hungry gaze, which had occasionally returned to Hoppy throughout their conversation, now fixed upon the Kneazle with unmistakable covetousness.
"That's a Kneazle, isn't it, Mr. Watson?" Gnarlak asked with feigned casual curiosity.
"These remarkable little creatures are extraordinarily fast and agile, aren't they? And I understand from various sources that this particular species possesses exceptional intelligence levels—if properly trained, they can prove quite useful for a wide variety of specialized tasks."
"You want it?" Bryan asked, raising one eyebrow.
Though he phrased his response as a question, his tone and deanor indicated that he wasn't particularly surprised by this developnt. He glanced briefly at the Kneazle in question, preparing to make so comnt, but Hoppy took matters into its own paws before Bryan could speak.
It stood up from its comfortable position on Bryan's shoulder, made a single light leap that carried it effortlessly through the smoky air, and landed directly on Gnarlak's shoulder. After achieving this new perch, Hoppy settled down again with obvious satisfaction, as though this had been its intended destination all along.
"Oh my!" Gnarlak exclaid with delight. "I must admit, I hadn't expected you to demonstrate such remarkable skill with magical creatures as well, Mr. Watson. Your reputation for versatility appears to be entirely justified. So then, do we have ourselves a mutually beneficial agreent?"
"Go ahead—"
Bryan replied though he looked aningfully at Hoppy, who was avoiding his gaze. Up until now, he had finally figured out why this Kneazle had appeared here and what exactly it wanted to do. From the beginning, its target had probably been Gnarlak.
"Purifying Potion," Gnarlak said with a smile.
This was a potion not found in standard textbooks—it didn't even exist in most books that recorded obscure potions. So, Remus, who wasn't skilled in this area, looked confused, and Alia wore a similar expression. But after a mont of bewildernt, Alia's face turned cold, and she couldn't help but say:
"This is complete nonsense and utter nonsense, you malicious goblin. Just based on your slander against the Director of Security of the Arican Magical Congress, I could arrest you directly."
Facing Alia's threat and obvious determination to follow through on her warnings, Gnarlak showed remarkable composure and complete indifference to her outrage.
The goblin knew that his current transaction with the legendary Bryan Watson was rapidly approaching its conclusion, and the opinions of a junior MACUSA employee carried no weight at all in his calculations.
Rather than dignifying her threat with any form of direct response, Gnarlak slowly rose from his chair and nodded to Bryan as a sign of respect.
"I realize I haven't properly welcod you to our humble city yet, Mr. Watson," The goblin said with courtesy that contrasted sharply with his treatnt of the other two visitors.
"Please allow to express my sincere hope that you will experience many pleasant and profitable days during your stay in New York. Oh, and regarding that learning machine we discussed—simply arrange to have it delivered here before your departure from the city."
Having delivered these parting words, Gnarlak smoothly collected a fresh drink from a passing waiter's tray and seamlessly transitioned into lively conversation with another table of custors.
"What exactly is Purifying Potion?" Remus asked quietly, glancing first at Alia who continued glaring at Gnarlak with murderous intensity before turning his attention to Bryan for an explanation of this mysterious potion.
"It's a highly specialized potion that is remarkably effective against various forms of magical curses and hexes, but it was banned from use by all civilized magical societies from the very mont of its invention," Bryan replied, his expression remaining neutral and blank as he chose his words with care.
"But why would such a thing be prohibited?" Remus asked with obvious puzzlent. "From your description, it sounds as though it should be considered highly beneficial for treating curse victims."
Bryan smiled. During his years in the underground world, 'processing' potions had been one of his 'main businesses,' and he knew all about various prohibited potions.
"The problem lies in one of the potion's essential ingredients," Bryan explained.
"The recipe requires unicorn blood as a critical ingredient. You understand? Unicorns are absolutely forbidden to hunt under any circumstances in every magical civilization throughout the world. Moreover, consuming unicorn blood is itself extrely dangerous and potentially fatal.
Even when you use various neutralizing ingredients and complex brewing techniques to counteract its inherent toxicity, you cannot completely eliminate what might be called its fundantal 'spiritual poison.' The end result is that you're basically choosing to expose yourself to one form of curse in order to suppress or eliminate a different curse that's already affecting you."
Remus beca astonished. If all this was true, then that Graves fellow was obviously in serious trouble.
The re exposure of his use of such a forbidden substance would be sufficient to destroy his career completely and potentially result in severe criminal charges that could imprison him for decades.
But Bryan was thinking about other issues.
The Purifying Potion possessed another characteristic that made long-term use even more problematic than its forbidden ingredient.
This particular potion was highly addictive in ways that went far beyond simple physical dependency.
Once an individual began consuming it regularly, their magical system will beco deeply dependent upon its continued presence, making it nearly impossible to discontinue use without experiencing severe and potentially fatal withdrawal symptoms.
Over ti, users would gradually weaken despite the potion's beneficial effects, eventually entering a twilight state of existence where they could be described as neither fully human nor entirely dead.
So, the critical question that needed an answer was: how had Director Graves managed to break free from such a devastating cycle of dependency?
As for the possibility of using this compromising information as leverage to threaten or blackmail Graves into cooperation, such an approach lay completely outside the scope of Bryan's considerations.
Graves's ancestor had been one of the twelve original Aurors who had founded the Arican Magical Congress, establishing a political family legacy that stretched back to the origins of magical governnt in North Arica.
His family maintained deep roots and wide connections throughout the political society, with nurous relatives and allies occupying small to key positions in various Congressional departnts and committees.
Any attempt to threaten or coerce Percival Graves using this sensitive dical information would only make their situation more difficult.
The more cost-effective and ultimately successful approach would still involve finding a way to solve the dical problem that Graves had encountered, thereby earning his gratitude and cooperation rather than his enmity.
However, a dark magic injury severe enough to require Purifying Potion for suppression and healing definitely couldn't be resolved through simple conventional healing techniques.
Bryan was carefully searching through his mories of similar cases and potential treatnt approaches when, without any warning, he suddenly sensed sothing that caused every magical instinct he had to trigger simultaneously.
His entire body went stiff with alarm as he abruptly stood up from his seat, and his previously relaxed expression transford into sothing serious and intensely focused. His gaze seed to pierce through the tavern's smoke-stained walls and cover the space outside the building.
"What is it, Bryan?" Remus asked imdiately with concern.
Both he and Alia had been watching Bryan carefully throughout their conversation, and his sudden change in deanor sent waves of tension through both of them. They imdiately rose from their own seats, hands instinctively moving toward their wands as they prepared for whatever threat had captured Bryan's attention.
Remus's urgent words had barely finished echoing in the smoky air when, before Bryan could give any kind of response or warning—
BOOM!
The deafening explosion struck with the force of a thunderbolt, sending shockwaves through the entire neighborhood and beyond. Blinding hot firelight erupted outside the bar, its radiance shining through the tavern's greasy, smoke-stained window fras with such intensity that it illuminated every corner of the dim interior.
The overwhelming roar of the detonation completely obliterated all other sounds within the bar. The resulting shockwave hit the building like an invisible battering ram, its trendous force instantly shattering every piece of glass in the Blind Pig's windows.
Sharp fragnts exploded in, creating a deadly hailstorm of glassy bullets that sent everyone diving for cover while piercing screams of terror and pain filled the air.
The hanging gas lamps that had provided the tavern's atmospheric lighting began swaying violently in the superheated air currents generated by the explosion. One by one, they broke free from their fixed points and crashed to the floor in showers of sparks and broken glass.
Behind the bar, countless bottles of expensive liquor and rare magical elixirs tumbled from their shelves, creating a downpour of shattering glass and spreading pools of valuable liquid that reflected the chaotic firelight streaming through the destroyed windows.
Every patron in the tavern imdiately assud that the Magical Congress had finally decided to conduct a massive raid on their illegal trade house and had launched a coordinated military-style attack designed to capture or eliminate everyone present. The rules and social protocols that Gnarlak had established to keep his diverse business in line imdiately vanished in the face of apparent mortal danger.
No one cared anymore about the goblin's stern warnings about maintaining order or respecting the tavern's neutrality. Panic-stricken custors frantically bumped into tables, chairs, and each other as they desperately attempted to Disapparate to safety.
The air was filled with the popping sounds of multiple simultaneous Apparitions as wizards, vampires, werewolves, and other magical beings fled in all directions.
The terrified half-giant, whose massive body had been cramd into a corner booth throughout the day, abandoned any trick of using proper exits.
Instead, he simply lowered his enormous shoulder and charged directly through the tavern's outer wall, creating a giant-sized hole surrounded by crumbling bricks and cracked wooden beams as he smashed his way to freedom.
In the span of few seconds, the Blind Pig which had been maintaining its atmosphere of criminal comrce just monts before had transford into a scene of complete and utter chaos.
Smoke, dust, and magical energy swirled through the air while the sounds of destruction and fleeing patrons created a noise that could probably be heard for blocks in every direction.
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