Behind the bar, positioned where he could observe the entire pub from his vantage point, Aberforth Dumbledore was listlessly polishing a glass with slow repetitive motions showing no particular interest or emotion at all.

But Bryan knew that Aberforth had been eavesdropping intently on their entire conversation from the very beginning. Later tonight, probably within the hour after they departed, he would relay what he’d heard to his brother Albus Dumbledore.

But that was precisely why Bryan had chosen the Hog’s Head for this important meeting rather than somewhere more private and secure.

Some things simply couldn’t be said face-to-face directly between him and Dumbledore, or they would only lead to fierce philosophical conflict and lengthy arguments about methods and morality that would accomplish absolutely nothing productive.

This indirect method was far more efficient—letting Albus hear through his brother’s ears, giving him time to process the information and think rationally rather than react emotionally in the moment.

“So, you wanted to see me today specifically to find out which side the Fawley family will stand on in the coming conflict, is that right, Mr. Watson?”

Kakus seemed mentally prepared for difficult, potentially dangerous questions, his entire posture became tense despite his attempts to appear relaxed. He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, before speaking with forced calmness that didn’t quite hide his nervousness.

“I told you already, Kakus, quite clearly—I genuinely don’t care about the Fawley family—”

Bryan shook his head slightly, dismissing the notion with a small wave of his hand.

“They’re largely irrelevant to my plans. What I actually want to know is this: How are things in the underworld right now?”

This was clearly an expected question, something Kakus had definitely anticipated being asked eventually, and he wasn’t particularly surprised or caught off guard by the direction of inquiry.

“More ‘prosperous’ than before—if you can possibly call it prosperity,” Kakus said carefully.

“You know well, Mr. Watson, that recently many foreign wizards have entered the country. All rather unsavory characters, criminals and worse. Exiles, mercenaries, dark wizards fleeing justice. They’re particularly fond of dirty, dark environments where they can operate freely without supervision.

They steal valuable magical artifacts, rob wizarding houses while families sleep, then fence their ill-gotten goods quickly in the underworld markets for whatever they can get. Oh, there’s considerably more conflict and violence than before.

Because these foreigners generally don’t follow our established rules and customs, don’t respect the old arrangements and agreements. They think they can do whatever they want.”

Bryan nodded slightly in acknowledgment, his expression turning thoughtful and calculating. He paused for a moment, thinking something, then asked in a casual tone, “If open war breaks out, what do you think these people will do?”

This too was clearly an expected question, one Kakus had obviously thought about broadly already.

“You know, Mr. Watson, the wizards who regularly frequent the underworld are a thoroughly mixed bunch, all sorts from all backgrounds—”

Kakus said with careful calmness, his voice remaining steady despite the severity of what he was discussing.

“A considerable portion of them are wizards from the old era who worship fanatically the whole traditional secrecy of magical inheritance system. They’re even more rigid and conservative in their beliefs than those ancient pure-blood wizarding families who at least adapt somewhat to changing times.

To these hardcore traditionalists, whether it’s you and Dumbledore with your reformist ideas and progressive policies, or the Dark Lord with his supremacist agenda and pure-blood fanaticism, you’re all equally dangerous heretics threatening their established way of life.

They’d love nothing more than for all of you to destroy each other completely in bloody, mutual warfare, then they could conveniently emerge from hiding and establish their own new order based strictly on the old ways, the ancient traditions.”

He paused, taking a sip of his Firewhisky to wet his throat before continuing with his analysis.

“Of the rest, some are dark wizards who’ve recently flowed into the country from abroad. While another portion consists of dark wizards who’ve been already lurking in this nation’s shadows for years or even decades—dark wizards who’ve received proper Hogwarts magical education, which makes them considerably more dangerous because they’re better trained, more skilled, understand our systems.”

Kakus’s expression grew more serious, his brow furrowing.

“Both groups are in similar situations and have remarkably similar motivations when you examine them. While some of them do genuinely believe in the Dark Lord’s pure-blood supremacy and wizard supremacy rhetoric, most of them, if I may be completely frank and honest, are just opportunistic petty thieves and small-time criminals looking for advantage.

They don’t dare openly oppose you and Dumbledore because you’re far too powerful, nor would they dare actively resist the Dark Lord because they fear him and his Death Eaters. Oh, but if you were to somehow lose power, show any weakness, they’d gleefully kick you while you’re down without a moment’s hesitation. They’re scavengers.”

Bryan looked at Kakus with appreciation glowing in his eyes. A wizard with such a clear, analytical head and realistic understanding of complex social dynamics and human nature was surely wasted spending his days in the underworld.

Bryan nodded slowly, still looking calmly at Kakus. “These people are undoubtedly huge destabilizing factors, Kakus. So, in your view, based on your experience in that world, how should they be controlled effectively?”

Naturally anticipating exactly what Bryan Watson was worried about, having spent many days thinking about this problem and its solutions, Kakus had of course already thought about potential countermeasures and practical solutions.

As if answering a difficult examination question, he’d prepared thoroughly for, Kakus said in a solemn, serious tone,

“Different strategies must be used to deal with these different groups, Mr. Watson. For those fence-sitters who just want to profit from chaos and disorder, who lack strong ideological commitments either way, I don’t think they need special attention or resources devoted to them specifically, Mr. Watson. As long as you, as long as Dumbledore—oh, and the Ministry of Magic, obviously—”

Kakus’s eyes were bright with intensity and conviction, leaning forward.

“As long as the forces resisting the Dark Lord don’t lose power, don’t show fatal weakness, they won’t have the courage to kill and burn openly, to commit serious crimes. At most they’ll rob houses, steal valuables. Oh, but deterring them is absolutely necessary.”

He leaned forward even more.

“If we assume the wizarding world enters a state of open warfare then I strongly suggest the Ministry pass strict, harsh legislation specifically targeting those who disturb social order and prey on innocent civilians.

They should face severe punishment—long Azkaban sentences or even the death penalty for the worst offenses, the most heinous crimes.”

Snap!

A sharp, sudden noise from the bar drew both Bryan’s and Kakus’s attention simultaneously. It was Aberforth who’d caused the unexpected commotion—he’d crushed the glass he was polishing, and several shards of broken glass had pierced into his hand. Bright red blood was trickling down steadily, dripping onto the bar surface and pooling there.

Noticing Bryan and Kakus both watching him intently with curiosity, Aberforth shouted irritably, “Oh, am I interrupting your grand plans to conquer the world? Should I leave you two to your scheming in peace?”

“Oh, no, Aberforth, not at all—”

Bryan said gently. “I was just wondering if you need any help with that injury? It looks quite painful.”

Meeting those deep purple eyes gazing at him, Aberforth felt a chill run down his spine. Watson’s gaze reminded him of a certain unpleasant person.

“Don’t bother, Watson!”

Aberforth angrily pulled out one large glass shard embedded in his palm with a sharp tug, then immediately hissed sharply in pain.

He suddenly noticed that the young girl in the portrait hanging above the fireplace mantel was looking at him timidly and worriedly. Seeing her concern for him, the irritable Aberforth’s harsh expression immediately changed, becoming unexpectedly gentle and tender.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, Ariana—just a small injury. I’ll take care of it right away. Don’t worry.”

With that hasty reassurance spoken softly, Aberforth strode into the back room of the pub to find proper medicine and clean bandages for himself.

Bryan looked thoughtfully toward the young girl in the portrait. She, very shyly immediately turned away quickly upon noticing Bryan’s gaze and ran to hide herself behind a cluster of bushes in the portrait’s landscape.

Among the tangled branches and green leaves, those eyes so remarkably similar to Albus Dumbledore’s secretly watched Bryan.

A flash of pity crossed Bryan’s gaze, his expression was softening with compassion for the girl’s tragic fate, and he withdrew his eyes respectfully, looking away to give her the privacy.

“Continue, Kakus.”

As one of the most well-informed people in the entire British wizarding world, with connections everywhere, Kakus obviously knew some of the Dumbledore family’s tragic inside story.

But when it concerned Dumbledore, Kakus absolutely didn’t dare gossip or speak carelessly about it. He too showed some pity for the little girl trapped forever in the portrait, before gathering his scattered, wandering thoughts back together and refocusing on business.

“We were just talking about the different groups in the underworld… oh, right—”

Kakus took several steadying breaths, organizing his thoughts.

“And then there are those dark wizards who agree with the Dark Lord’s radical views, who show clear ideological leanings and express open support for his agenda. To be honest, it’s not particularly hard to identify them at all—they may have already been secretly recruited as Death Eaters, and taken the Mark.

These people are always loudly discussing politics in the underworld’s taverns and markets, trying aggressively to get more people into their group. They’re basically the reserve Death Eaters—”

Under Bryan’s gaze, Kakus’s expression revealed coldness and calculation.

“Once open warfare begins, they’ll definitely join the Dark Lord’s side immediately, without a moment’s hesitation. I think we should thoroughly collect detailed information on these people and their pasts.

And for the unforgivable ones, those with the worst records and the most dangerous ideologies, make them disappear from this world before they can cause real damage or kill innocent people. For just some gold galleons, there will be people more than happy to do this wet work discreetly.”

“I can’t help but applaud you, Kakus.”

Bryan laughed softly.

“Yes, gold galleons shine brighter there in the underworld than lofty ideals or moral principles ever could. As long as there’s a suitable price, there’s certainly no shortage of people who’ll enthusiastically take this commission and carry it out efficiently without asking questions.”

“I must remind you, Mr. Watson,” Kakus said cautiously, “that would probably amount to a very large sum of galleons overall.”

“That won’t be a problem, Kakus.”

Bryan said dismissively waving away the concern.

“There are far more people supporting the just side than you might imagine. Human life is always more precious than galleons. I’m genuinely happy to spend gold galleons freely to prevent civilian casualties and save innocent lives from Death Eater attacks.

So, what are your specific thoughts on dealing with those secret wizards you mentioned earlier?”

For the first time in their entire conversation, Kakus’s confident expression hesitated. He leaned back in his chair, sighing with gloominess and frustration.

“The underworld exists primarily because of those secret wizards—they’re its foundation, its reason for being. The earliest group of people who originally gathered there centuries ago, who formed that community, did so for that elusive, legendary Merlin’s treasure—the fabled Black Stone Tower that supposedly contains unimaginable knowledge and power beyond anything currently known.”

He rubbed his face wearily with both hands.

“To be completely honest, Mr. Watson, they’re very difficult to deal with—perhaps impossible to manage or control. Most of them are highly skilled wizards, genuinely talented and dangerous individuals, and they don’t side with either faction in the coming war. They’re completely independent, bound to no one. Who knows what they’ll actually do when fighting starts and chaos reigns?”

Kakus’s voice grew more troubled, and worried.

“Most likely they’ll just watch from the sidelines. But it absolutely can’t be ruled out that they might take advantage of the chaos and disorder to perform some dark magic experiments they normally wouldn’t dare attempt in peacetime.

Oh, those ancient, evil, and uncontrollable magics often bring catastrophically serious consequences—worse than directly joining the war on the wrong side. They’ve always stayed completely outside our sphere of influence, unwilling to join magical civilization or cooperate—”

“You’re wrong about that, Kakus—”

Bryan interrupted calmly, playing thoughtfully with the glass in his hand, swirling the remaining liquid. His gaze was profound and calculating.

“Their unwillingness to join society and cooperate isn’t primarily because they’re arrogant or antisocial by nature—it’s also because we’ve been ignoring their needs and interests. It’s our neglect and dismissal that has provoked and reinforced their arrogance and isolation. They’ve been pushed outside.

In fact, it is possible to bring them to our side. Of course, we’d need an appropriate intermediary, someone that both they and we trust implicitly to broker the arrangement—”

“You mean me?”

Kakus was genuinely stunned, his eyes widened with shock as he stared at the calmly smiling Bryan with complete disbelief.

“But what could I possibly do to convince them?!”

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