Hogwarts: The Wizarding World's First Capitalist

Cedric looked at Carl with surprise, as if he was meeting him for the first time.

Carl didn't intend to explain. He raised his right hand and gently pulled the trigger, firing a red flare into the sky.

The bright red light immediately illuminated the entire valley, the surrounding weathered rocks of strange shapes, and the yellow sand that rustled in the wind.

Under the illumination of this red light, it looks extremely strange.

But what is even more bizarre is that at the moment this flare was launched, countless lights of various colors appeared.

Lights appeared in every corner of the valley, and groups of young people followed.

They were wearing simple tactical jackets and carrying various old light weapons, and they suddenly appeared as if they had grown out of the ground.

Most of them were about the same age as Carl, but the look in their eyes, wrapped in simple headscarves, was so sharp that it was frightening.

Cedric looked at these young people nervously, feeling a little uneasy.

Whenever he looked into these people's eyes, he always felt like a herbivore seeing a lion.

His intuition told him that these young people were not ordinary children, they were more like warriors tempered in the flames of war.

"Mysterious Mr. K, I didn't expect you to actually come. Thank you for your help and for giving us the opportunity to be here on this special night."

"Let us make our voice heard in this world."

An old soldier greeted Carl happily, but he didn't shake his hand, not because he was impolite.

It was just because this veteran had both his hands amputated and only had one leg intact, so he was pushed here in a wheelchair.

Cedric looked at the other person in surprise. From this leader, he intuitively experienced for the first time the tenacity of the human soul.

Karl just nodded slightly to show respect and spoke directly.

"Long time no see, Mohammed. I remember when I came here a year ago, you were still a handsome young man."

"I remember that you had just gotten married and your wife had just gotten pregnant. I had planned to give your child some gifts when we met this time."

As he spoke, Carl used magic to take out a metal car and a pink teddy bear from his ring.

The leader named Muhammad looked at the two gifts and just smiled bitterly.

Then he shook his head and said.

"No, on the day of my wedding, a missile destroyed everything. After all, I am a terrorist in their eyes."

"I was too naive. I was not supposed to have a normal life, just like my fellow countrymen."

When he said this, he did not show the sadness and lamentation that one might imagine.

He spoke unusually calmly, as if he was telling Karl how many bowls of rice he had eaten today.

Carl was silent for a while, then nodded.

"Please forgive me for not being able to feel sad, but since this is a gift from me, please accept one of them."

"The child who has not yet felt the beauty of the world, is he a boy or a girl?"

Muhammad also fell silent. A moment of recollection made this strong warrior, whose incomplete but steel-like body, tremble slightly for a moment.

Then he spoke seriously in a hoarse voice.

"It was a girl. I named her Amal. Her life was forever frozen at two months."

"Amal means 'hope' in Arabic." Carl murmured, "If she grows up, she should be a beautiful girl."

Karl said, handing the pink teddy bear in his hand to the young man next to him, who looked at this and the surrounding environment.

The teddy bear, which was totally mismatched with the original, was silent for a moment. Then, the moment he took the gift, he raised his head and stared at Carl and spoke seriously.

"Thank you for your gift, but we don't need these. We need bullets and weapons. Toys are meaningless to us."

“In Palestine, we can never grow up.”

The young man’s tone was cold and a little ruthless, but Karl was not angry after the other party accepted the gift.

He took out a two-meter-long parchment scroll from his ring, spread it on the ground, and then opened his arms and spoke.

"Okay, that's the end of our friendship story. Now let's talk about our deal."

"Sign this parchment and you will get the weapons you want, but only after you die."

"Your souls will be mine."

Hearing this, Cedric, who had been hiding behind, was stunned. He hurried to Karl and said angrily.

"No, you can't do this. What's the difference between your behavior and that of a demon? This is no longer a matter of black magic."

"If you do that, you will be thrown into Azkaban and will never be able to get out of it for the rest of your life."

Facing Cedric's angry questioning, Carl seemed calm. He turned his head and looked through the lenses of his frameless glasses.

He stared at the other person silently and spoke with his lips slightly opened.

"Congratulations on seeing my true self, Mr. Cedric. I am indeed a demon, and I only act for my own benefit."

"But compared to those ignorant guys, you should know better what kind of hell this land under our feet is."

"In heaven, people can do without God, but in hell, everyone prays to the devil."

"If you make a deal with the devil, you can let them roar in despair."

"Then the soul seems insignificant. Some people will never sell their souls in their entire lives, like you. You are a good person, and your noble qualities are admirable."

"But please remember, in this world, some people, from the moment they are born, can only sell their souls."

“I can provide such a trading platform, and all I will gain is gratitude.”

Carl's words once again stomped heavily on Cedric's worldview, which had already become a ruin.

At the same time, the choices made by those young people further confirmed what Carl had just said.

These young people rushed to sign the parchment, and some even fought for a signature spot.

Pulling and even cursing at each other, they roared and tore at their companions, and finally looked at the familiar faces with tears in their eyes.

After signing his name on the parchment, he received a set of standard Soviet individual equipment and waved goodbye to his companions with a smile.

In less than a moment, a total of 1000 sets of Soviet individual equipment had been distributed by these people.

They were dressed neatly, knelt down in unison, kissed the ground beneath their feet, and then disappeared as if they had never been there.

Under the cover of night, it disappeared into the valley.

Carl calmly picked up the parchment on the ground and called back the two pilots who had just vomited.

He threw 10 U.S. dollars in cash and an American passport copied using magic to the two men and said.

"There is still about an hour before the attack begins. You must fly the plane and leave the country immediately."

"First, go to the airport in Spain to refuel, and then fly directly to the New York International Airport in the United States. Someone will pick you up there."

"As long as you are not shot down by anti-aircraft missiles, the Western life you envy is waving at you."

After giving the two men instructions, Carl grabbed Cedric, who was still confused, and waved goodbye to Mohammed.

He used Apparition to leave the valley.

Mohammed, sitting in a wheelchair, looked up at the starry sky and said earnestly.

"Allah bless your Messenger!! Sing his praises in the name of praise."

On the other side, on the Holy Sepulchre outside the city of Jerusalem, Carl and Cedric, one stood still and the other sat quietly on the ground.

Almost an hour passed like this, until Cedric, unable to bear the resentment and confusion in his heart any longer, ran to Carl and wanted to question him.

But the other party pressed his lips with a finger of his right hand, signaling him not to speak.

He pointed his left hand at the city of Jerusalem at the foot of the mountain and spoke softly.

"Don't talk, the flood is coming!!"