Chapter 55: Machiavelli's Magic Workshop
Chapter 55: Machiavelli's Magic Workshop
Machiavelli was a man obsessed with the pursuit of wealth, and he never failed to openly display this trait.
After signing the contract, Machiavelli eagerly rushed to the next step, unwilling to waste a second of money-making time. This time, Professor Mori asked Steven to attend to the guests at the party while he accompanied Wade to Machiavelli's magic workshop.
"It's best to have the first batch of goods on the shelves before the start of the school year. The students and their parents will surely be willing to empty their wallets for our products." Machiavelli said enthusiastically, "We can also offer different packaging, quantities, and qualities. Even just adding some prints and sprinkling gold powder on parchment can make pureblood aristocrats willing to pay triple the price. Oh, and I have to hurry up and make a batch of posters and put them up in Diagon Alley tomorrow morning!"
Wade couldn't help but ask in surprise, "Will we make it in time?"
"Of course!" Machiavelli blinked, "Dear Wade, in the world of magic, anything is possible!"
Wade thought he had some wonderful spell to speed up production, but when they used Floo Powder to arrive at Machiavelli's company, he realized it was the power of money at work.
The company's lobby was spacious, with a small flowing waterfall in the center, and the words "Arsalan Magic Workshop" shining in golden letters above it. The arched dome was painted with pictures of various magical creatures, some of which were slowly moving. All around were burning fireplaces with green flames flickering, and from time to time, a wizard or witch would emerge from them.
"Why the sudden notice for overtime during the Christmas holidays?" A young man, apparently unaware that his boss was nearby, complained loudly, "I was all set to go traveling in Italy!"
"I heard there's a need for emergency production." Another witch replied joyfully, "Overtime pay is triple the usual rate!"
The young man with short hair immediately calmed down, "Oh, well, that's not so bad then."
"Make way! Make way, please!"
A house-elf shouted as he maneuvered a pile of boxes that resembled a small mountain, his progress slow due to the crowded lobby. The elf looked irritable as he struggled to move forward.
The sudden increase in workload made everything seem chaotic, and several house-elves scurried between people's legs, darting back and forth, delivering various items.
Meanwhile, colorful paper airplanes hovered in swarms above the lobby, occasionally swooping down on someone.
"Oh, damn!" A wizard exclaimed as a paper airplane pierced his hat. He plucked it off and unfolded it, only to cry out in dismay, "How come we're just noticing the shortage of Stonefish Oil now! We were supposed to take inventory before the holidays and restock anything that was low! I'll have someone's hide if they were slacking off on the job!"
He rushed off through the crowd, nearly knocking over the house-elf, who angrily dropped the box and cursed loudly.
Wade was astonished.
Judging from the current chaotic state of the magic workshop, Machiavelli must have ordered all employees to prepare for overtime as soon as he witnessed the effects of the Friend's Account—back then, everyone still held on to the hope of negotiating with Professor Mori, but the determined Machiavelli had probably already planned out the next steps.
"Sorry, it's really chaotic here today! It's not usually like this. Wade, Professor, follow me, this way."
Machiavelli led Wade and Professor Mori through the crowd and into a private elevator, where he finally breathed a sigh of relief and pressed the button for the sixth floor - Technical Department, loosening his collar as he did so.
"Your workshop now has seven floors?" Professor Mori narrowed his eyes at the row of elevator buttons and remarked, "I remember the last time I was here, there were only five."
"Yes, we've done well these past few years." Machiavelli said proudly, "The magic radio modification is a big part of it, and we have you to thank for granting us the authorization."
"Not many wizards are willing to embrace new things, especially when it comes to altering Muggle objects. Many still believe Muggles to be stupid and inferior, which is utterly foolish!"
"When I first started school and saw that scarlet train rushing like a beast through the Scottish highlands, I was deeply moved by the wisdom and power of Muggles. After graduating, I wanted to enroll in a Muggle university, but due to various reasons, I had to give up on that dream..."
"—And what reasons were those? Could it be that you couldn't understand a word they were saying?
Professor Mori bluntly exposed the truth.
"Hahaha— Be more subtle in front of the kids, Professor!"
Wade suddenly realized that although Professor Mori often poked fun at Machiavelli, their relationship was much better than it seemed on the surface. Their private conversations had a special tacit understanding.
He looked at the posters in the elevator and listened quietly without interrupting.
The Technical Department had two fairies and five or six wizards, and they had already prepared various tools and were waiting in the office. This place was different from a Muggle office, filled with various magical objects that moved slowly, colorful lights flickering intermittently, and the room buzzing with soft sounds.
Once they arrived, Professor Mori and Machiavelli found an empty table to sit and chat over tea, leaving Wade to discuss with the Technical Department members.
Wade first demonstrated the process of making the Friend's Account, and for the time-consuming potion preparation, he brought ready-made ingredients. The experts in the room quickly grasped the general process after one demonstration, and then they began to break down the entire process step by step. Eventually, they simplified it to the point where over eighty percent of the smaller steps could be accomplished by even third-year Hogwarts students. Some members were also constantly calculating how to further reduce costs and brought various materials for experimentation. In less than half an hour, the Technical Department had already determined the production process for the first batch of products, and the entire magic workshop truly entered a phase of high-speed operation.
During this time, Machiavelli only occasionally chatted quietly with Professor Mori, but he was always discreetly observing Wade.
The black-haired boy was not very tall. After demonstrating his creation, he rarely spoke, but whenever he did, his words were insightful and hit the nail on the head. The Technical Department members tried several times to modify his magical text circuits, but before they could even start, Wade pointed out the consequences of their actions—either a decrease in stability or a delay and even loss of transmitted information.
As it turned out, he was right every time.
Machiavelli secretly stuck out his tongue, finally understanding why Professor Mori had always looked down on his abilities—despite scoring an E (Exceeds Expectations) in the Ultimate Wizard Registration Exam.
Look at this child. Not only did he have genius-level creativity and a diligent attitude towards learning, but he also possessed a highly practical and rigorously tested experimental spirit—how else could he be so intimately familiar with every change unless he had attempted it dozens or even hundreds of times?
No wonder Professor Mori, with his current status, was willing to set aside his pride and personally vouch for this child, fighting for his best interests.
There were countless geniuses in the world, and Machiavelli himself was considered one by some. That was why he understood even better that many geniuses, if they relied solely on their clever minds, would eventually fade into mediocrity or even end up in Azkaban due to their "intelligence." Only a genius like Wade—as long as he didn't meet an untimely end—would undoubtedly achieve greatness, and his glory was already foreseeable.
How should he win over such a genius? Machiavelli tweaked the strategy he had already revised three times in his mind once more.
Eleven years old... Was this child really only eleven? His three-plus decades of life suddenly felt like that of a Flobberworm...
Could it be...
Suddenly, Machiavelli leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Professor—Professor Mori—just tell me the truth—this child is actually your illegitimate son, isn't he?"
Wade, who had been discussing lead powder ratios with the team, suddenly heard a miserable scream. He turned his head and saw Machiavelli rolling on the floor from the table, while Professor Mori smiled, signaling that everything was fine.
—For some reason, his smile looked a bit sinister.
Wade blinked in confusion.
(End of Chapter)
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