The goblins' ears seed to have turned hypersensitive all of a sudden. The rooster-headed goblin let out a piercing, explosive scream, which instantly plunged the whole Gringotts lobby into absolute panic and chaos.
So threw away the jewels in their hands, stopped whatever business they were handling, and turned to bolt toward the vault doors, while others dove right under their desks to shiver in place.
The scene was utterly bizarre for a mont.
The little wizards were left completely dumbfounded.
"Goblins play World of Warcraft too? Pfft, World of Warcraft hasn't even launched yet." He had his suspicions, but couldn't quite be sure if he was right.
"What the heck is going on?"
Mr. Granger and his wife were also scared out of their wits by the goblins' reaction. In the blink of an eye, the once bustling lobby was completely empty—there wasn't a single goblin head in sight. Even the goblin who was supposed to be helping them was now hiding under the desk. The couple exchanged a confused look.
They wondered if this was so fixed tradition or ritual in the Magic World.
"Are you robbing the bank?"
Only Hermione realized the goblins were scared out of their minds. She couldn't help but rush over to Ian, shocked, to ask—she had just seen the goblin who was helping Ian sprint away while peeing himself.
"Maybe I robbed it before, but not now?" Ian said helplessly, rubbing his forehead. He guessed Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flal's research on the Ti Converter might actually have a breakthrough soon.
"What do you an? Did you rob it before and forgot?" Hermione clearly hadn't cultivated the mindset a wizard should have; her extrely limited knowledge didn't allow her to make any wild guesses.
"What Supre Mage divh Aegwynn did has nothing to do with , Ian Prince!" Ian suddenly denied it, gotta admit, his little brain worked lightning-fast.
He was snapped back to reality.
He trusts himself.
No matter what he does in the future, since he's chosen the route of using a fake identity, he absolutely can't reveal anything suspicious to anyone right now.
According to the usual rules, rounding up like this, he wouldn't even have half a cent's worth of connection to any cause and effect.
"Uh..."
Hermione was left speechless by Ian's flip-flopping personality. And right at this mont, the vault door deeper inside the lobby made a very heavy opening and closing noise.
"Damn you, Kunba! This isn't April Fools' Day!" A goblin with an eight-character moustache, wearing a beret and smoking a pipe, was the first to stride out of the vault door.
Right behind him followed a goblin with a terrified expression, who hadn't even bothered to change his pants, with yellow liquid constantly dripping from his crotch. Judging by his diet, he's definitely got so internal heat—the rooster-headed goblin.
"divh was a legend from nearly two thousand years ago. No idea what's wrong with your brains. A human wizard can't possibly live for two thousand years and still be rejuvenated!"
"This is just fear ingrained in your bones ssing with you, if you ask . Absolutely has to do with your ancestors being cowards. There are way too many people who look alike in the world, just way too..."
The eight-character moustache goblin kept on yamring, full-on boss mode, scolding the rooster-headed goblin called Kunba. But as he walked closer to Ian and the Granger family—
"Thud~"
Not only did his cursing co to a screeching halt, but his legs also suddenly turned to rubber, nearly making him faceplant like a dog eating dirt.
"Supre Mage divh!"
His gaze locked onto Ian's face, and the shriek he let out was even sharper than Kunba's—turns out his ancestors weren't just timid, they were definitely unlucky too.
And then—
A bird-claw-like mark appeared on the eight-character moustache goblin's forehead. It was the burning sensation there, plus the soul-deep binding, that made him buckle.
With a thud, he collapsed to his knees with zero warning.
"I knew it! I knew it!" Rooster-head goblin Kunba saw this, didn't hesitate for a second, instantly spun around and started fleeing, rolling and crawling away with impressive fluency.
He must've rehearsed this in his mind countless tis already.
"What on earth did divh do to you guys?" Ian felt a certain mysterious connection. He raised his hand and lightly scratched the bird-claw mark on the eight-character moustache goblin's forehead—it turned even redder. The goblin's body shook even harder, his sense of rhythm putting South Korean girl groups with Kinder Eggs to sha.
"Don't eat ! Don't eat ! We goblins have always honored the terms of the contract for generations!" The eight-character moustache goblin acted like he hadn't even heard Ian's question.
He wailed, leaving Ian totally ignored.
Gone was any trace of the scolding, bossy attitude he had earlier.
"..."
The little wizard walked up to the kneeling goblin, looking down at the goblin whose head barely reached his knees. He could clearly sense the goblin's inner terror.
"I'm not divh, but I think I get it. divh must be my aunt's son's father-in-law's wife's nephew's cousin's husband's sister's son's cousin."
Ian's thod of reassuring people was as unique as always.
Maybe his explanation was just so convoluted that the goblin couldn't figure out the relationship tree, or maybe the eight-character moustache goblin simply had no guts left at this mont to think about it.
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