Hogwarts: The Wizarding World's First Capitalist

After figuring out all this, Mr. Zachary Ward became like a deflated ball.

He could only lean silently against the cold gold worth 70 billion US dollars behind him and slowly fell to the ground.

Cold sweat began to appear on his forehead uncontrollably, and the fear in his eyes gradually became real.

Even though he knew that the object behind him was thousands of times heavier than him, he still couldn't control his legs and kicked forward desperately.

It made him look funny, like a mole digging a hole in the concrete floor, trying to escape.

"Am I that scary?" Carl's voice rang out, and it scared Mr. Zachley Ward hard.

He quickly raised his hands to cover his face and spoke in a pleading tone.

"I'm sorry for my previous behavior. I shouldn't have asked such stupid questions to someone as noble as you."

"I shouldn't insult your noble race. I am a nigger and a loser. Please let me go. If there is a magic that can erase a person's memory, even turn him into a fool."

"Please feel free to use me. I'm willing to do anything as long as you let me go."

He was really scared. When a person sees someone who is countless levels higher than himself, he often doesn't look down on the other person as he usually does.

Instead, he felt real fear, because even if he exhausted all his imagination, he simply could not think of a way to fight against the opponent.

Not to mention being able to defeat the opponent, the only belief that kept him from fainting was the instinctive desire to survive.

And just as he kept begging for mercy, Karl’s voice sounded again, this time with a hint of doubt in his tone.

"When did I ever say I wanted to kill you? More importantly, you think I spent so much money and went through so much trouble."

"I came all the way here to cause trouble for you. Don't you think this is a little funny? I just asked you to help that gentleman..."

Before Carl could finish his words, Mr. Zachary Ward immediately rushed to make a guarantee.

"No problem. I can sign a bet agreement with you right now. How about a growth rate of no less than 25% per year?"

Carl's face twitched and he didn't say anything.

Seeing this, Mr. Zachary Ward immediately raised the price.

"30%!! As long as you can give me some help, 30% every year will be no problem, as long as the total amount of funds operated can exceed million pounds."

“30% annual growth rate, I can definitely do it.”

Carl's face twitched even more violently, and he looked like he was about to lose his temper at any moment.

Seeing this, Mr. Zachary Ward gritted his teeth, widened his eyes and roared with bloodshot eyes.

"50%. I can use all the means at my disposal to achieve a 50% growth rate every year."

"As long as you don't kill me, I will risk my life. You will definitely be able to complete this task."

After saying this, he looked at Karl with pleading eyes, but he only saw an even more desperate scene.

The handsome young man's face looked extremely ugly, and he glared at him with gritted teeth. Seeing this, Mr. Zachry Ward felt cold all over.

It looked like he was about to die from excessive blood loss. Just when he was about to die from excessive shock and exhaustion.

The young man's voice sounded again, and he was heard speaking with gritted teeth.

"This is the first time and the last time. You are not allowed to interrupt me in the future. Who told you that I want you to help them make money?"

"I ask you to do everything you can to absorb as much of their deposits as possible within six months, and finally put the money in an appropriate place to disappear in a reasonable manner."

These words, like a high concentration of adrenaline, directly saved Mr. Zachley Ward from the dying state.

However, it might also be because the drug was too strong, which made him unable to understand for a while. He had no choice but to look at the young man in front of him and asked tentatively.

"You want me to cooperate with you in setting up a trap, and then transfer those people's money to your account at the appropriate time."

"Why, if I'm not mistaken, they should be your partners. This kind of operation cannot be done without leaving any traces."

"And if we want to achieve the effect you mentioned, we must rely on your amazing company."

"At this point, let alone a noble lord from a Shakespeare opera, even a fool can figure out the connection."

"So what?" Carl smiled disdainfully, "The last round of cards has been completed, and the next round will start right after."

"You are an experienced gambler, but I want to tell you that gambling methods such as baccarat and blackjack are weak."

"The most interesting and cruel gamble created by mankind is called politics and power. In this game, you are not allowed to get off the game halfway."

"The whole game will only be over when one person wins all the chips, and I am special."

"I not only want to win all the chips on their table, but also those that they are unwilling to take out. I will also win all of them."

"So you understand? You know what I want you to do."

"Understood!" Mr. Zachary Ward nodded desperately. He asked that question before, partly to clarify the situation.

On the other hand, it's just out of curiosity. No matter what the other party answers, I can only nod.

He was already lucky to be able to leave here safely, but what he didn't expect was that he just nodded in agreement.

Carl suddenly snapped his fingers, pointed a finger at him and said with a smile.

"I just like dealing with smart people. Your previous fear was totally unnecessary. That's why I told you that."

"I'm not trying to scare you. I just want to tell you a good news. When I was doing those things, I specifically asked my men to leave your name at every crime scene."

"Now all the gangsters in London think that you killed Mr. Smith, including the entire white police and civil service system in London."

"They all think that you are a person of great power, so you dare to openly report Councillor Rosen at this stage."

"Ah???" Mr. Zachary Ward, who had just found hope for life, unconsciously felt his legs go weak and he knelt on the ground when he heard the good news.

He looked up at the ceiling in despair and muttered to himself.

"That is very good news, that is very good news, my dear sir. I am not the dead swimmer, Mr. Smithson."

"I'm afraid that once I leave the bank, I'll die in the street for no apparent reason."

"You still don't intend to let me go."

"Who said that? I'll just let you be Mr. Smith."