Chapter 136: The Escaped Niffler, the Mobile Zoo, and the First "Angel Investment"
Just then, a small claw with black fur and a snout as long and flat as a platypus's stubbornly reached out from a crack in the suitcase.
Niffler.
A magical creature with a pathological obsession for anything shiny, such as gold coins and jewelry.
"If you don't want to be detained on the spot by the customs officers over there," Morrin stepped forward, subtly blocking the view of the people around them, "I suggest you keep it held down."
Newt hurriedly stuffed the claw back in, looking at Morrinwith embarrassment: "Thank you... Are you a Wizard?"
"One of your own." Morrin replied briefly, "From Britain?"
"Yes." Newt breathed a sigh of relief; in his view, countrymen were always easier to talk to, "I'm here to... to buy a birthday present."
"Stop lying, Mr. Scamander."
Morrin looked at this clumsy liar and shook his head helplessly.
"The United States Wizarding Congress is ten times stricter with magical creatures than Britain. If they discover you've brought an entire zoo in, you'll go straight to prison."
"Let's go. We need to get out of here."
Morrin led Newt through customs quickly, using a bit of Confundo.
...
The streets of New York.
Even in 1926, the prosperity of New York was staggering.
Skyscrapers were rising from the ground, and Ford Model T cars shuttled through the streets.
Morrin walked in front, while Newt followed behind carrying the suitcase, like a primary school student who had done something wrong.
"Um... Sir?" Newt couldn't help but ask, "May I ask your name?"
"Morrin White."
Morrin stopped in front of the World War I memorial plaza.
There was a group of people gathering here, led by a fanatical-looking middle-aged woman who was handing out flyers and shouting, "We need a Second Salem!"
Second Salem.
An anti-Wizard extremist organization composed of "Muggles" (the American term for Muggle).
"A bunch of lunatics who have no magic but are extremely sensitive to it." Morrin commented.
Just then, an accident happened.
At the feet of the woman who was giving the speech, there was a donation box filled with coins.
The silver coins glittered in the sunlight.
"Clink."
Newt's suitcase suddenly made a crisp sound.
The latch sprang open.
A black afterimage "whooshed" out.
It was the Niffler.
It rushed toward the donation box like a cannonball, nimbly diving into the crowd.
"No! Atai!" Newt exclaimed, about to chase after it.
But he was held back by Morrin.
"Don't move." Morrin pressed down on Newt's shoulder, "Using a wand to catch a platypus in the middle of the street? Do you want us to be in the headlines tomorrow?"
"But it's stealing money!" Newt was sweating profusely with anxiety.
"Then let it steal."
Morrin watched the little guy who was already like a fish in water among the crowd, frantically stuffing silver coins into the pouch on its belly, a hint of appreciation flashing in his eyes.
"Don't you think... its business acumen is very strong?"
Morrin adjusted his gloves, his figure flickering.
[Half-Giant Speed].
He didn't chase it clumsily like Newt; instead, he anticipated the Niffler's escape route—it would definitely go to the nearby bank, where there was more gold.
Just as the Niffler was clutching a pile of coins, preparing to slip between the legs of two passersby.
A hand in a black leather glove precisely and mercilessly grabbed the scruff of its neck, lifting it into mid-air.
"Squeak, squeak, squeak!"
The Niffler struggled desperately, the silver coins in its belly clattering as they fell.
"Caught you, you little thief."
Morrin looked at the little thing that was still trying to reach out and grab his cufflinks.
[Contact Successful!]
[Special magical creature detected: Niffler]
[Extractable Traits]:
[Blue] Gold Scent: Natural radar sensing for precious metals.
[Purple] Minor Spatial Pocket: Its belly is an Undetectable Extension storage bag, capable of holding things a hundred times its size.
[Current extraction attempts: 0]
"Tsk, no attempts left." Morrin felt some regret.
He carried the Niffler back to the alley and threw it back into Newt's arms.
"Manage your employee, Mr. Scamander." Morrin took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, "This kind of unorganized and undisciplined behavior would result in a total bonus deduction at my company."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Newt hurriedly stuffed the Niffler back into the suitcase and cast several reinforcement spells.
Just then, a woman wearing a grey trench coat and a bell-shaped hat, holding a hot dog in her hand, walked over. She looked at the two of them with sharp, vigilant eyes.
Tina Goldstein.
Former Auror, demoted for attacking a Muggle to save someone.
She had been monitoring this anti-Wizard organization.
"Who are you?" Tina held up the hot dog she hadn't finished eating, but that didn't affect her "I'm a cop" aura, "What's in that suitcase?"
Newt stuttered nervously: "N... nothing... I think it's a... pet."
"I'm his investor, Ma'am."
Morrin White stood in front of Newt, acting extremely natural.
His expensive suit and the arrogance that radiated from his bones made him look like a young tycoon from Wall Street.
"This Mr. Scamander is a zoologist from Britain. I'm planning to fund him to open an... 'Ecological Zoo' in New York."
Morrin smiled and took a business card out of his pocket—one he had printed in 1998, but with a retro style that was universally applicable—and handed it to Tina.
"White Multinational Trading Company. We operate legally and pay taxes on time."
Tina took the business card skeptically.
"White? Never heard of it."
"Because we just arrived." Morrin pointed to the bank behind him, "In fact, we were just about to go to the bank to open an account and deposit some... start-up capital."
"The bank?" Tina glanced at Newt's tattered suitcase, "Are you sure?"
"Of course."
Morrin turned his head to look at the magnificent... Stanick National Bank.
He was currently penniless because 1998 Galleons couldn't be used here, and the Pound Sterling version wouldn't work either.
But he had Alchemy.
And those "treasures" inside Newt's suitcase.
"Mr. Scamander." Morrin whispered to Newt, "You should have an Occamy in your suitcase, right?"
"Yes... yes I do." Newt was bewildered.
"The Occamy's eggshells are pure silver." Morrin's eyes flashed with a hint of sharpness, "Lend me a few eggshells. In return, I'll help you get rid of this troublesome female Auror, and... give your suitcase, which is always breaking, a comprehensive security upgrade."
Newt was stunned.
"How did you know Occamy eggs are silver? And... how did you know the suitcase needed an upgrade?"
"Because I'm a professional."
Morrin patted Newt on the shoulder and led him toward the bank entrance.
"Let's go, let's turn those eggshells... into the most common currency of this era: US dollars."
Morrin pushed open the doors of the bank.
The prosperity before the Great Depression hit him in the face.
"What a... good era for plundering."
Chapter 137: Pure Silver Eggshell, The Disappearing baker
New York, Steen National Bank.
Marble columns supported the magnificent dome, and well-dressed bankers were busy behind the counters; the air was filled with the scent of money mixed with cigars.
Morrin White sat in the VIP reception room with Newt Scamander.
Newt looked uneasy, clutching his suitcase tightly as if it contained a bomb that could explode at any moment—which, in reality, was not far from the truth.
"Sir, are you sure this... is legal?" Newt asked in a low voice.
"In the United States, if you have money, it's legal."
Morrin straightened his cuffs and looked at the bank manager named Bentley in front of him.
The manager was eyeing these two "Brits" with a suspicious gaze.
"Mr. White," Manager Bentley tapped the table, "you said you wanted to deposit some 'precious metals' as startup capital? But I don't see cash, nor do I see gold."
"I'm accustomed to carrying raw materials."
Morrin turned his head to look at Newt: "Mr. Scamander, give me that egg."
Newt hesitated for a moment, reached his hand into the slightly open gap of the suitcase, and pulled out an egg the size of an ostrich egg, shimmering with a pure silver light.
An Occamy egg.
Manager Bentley frowned: "What is this? An Easter egg? We don't accept handicrafts."
"This is pure silver."
Morrin took the egg.
In that instant, [Gate of Truth (Gold)] flashed in his eyes.
"Material reshaping."
Morrin's fingers brushed lightly over the eggshell surface.
There was no incantation, nor the glow of a wand.
In Manager Bentley's horrified gaze, the silver egg deformed and elongated like melting wax, impurities were removed, and the molecular structure was rearranged.
In just three seconds.
The egg turned into a rectangular standard silver brick stamped with exquisite patterns.
Clang!
Morrin slammed the silver brick onto the table.
"99.9% purity," Morrin said indifferently, "at today's market price, how much is this worth?"
Manager Bentley took the silver brick with trembling hands and took a bite, nearly breaking his teeth.
"Good heavens... it's real! This quality... it's worth at least two thousand dollars!"
In 1926, two thousand dollars was a huge sum of money.
"Very good." Morrin leaned back in his chair, "Open an account. The name is 'White Investment'."
Just as Manager Bentley was scrambling to get the documents, Newt suddenly let out a short exclamation.
"It ran away!"
"What?" Morrin turned his head.
The door to the reception room was ajar, and a small, furry black claw had just retracted.
Niffler.
It had smelled it—the scent of the vault.
"Damn it." Morrin sighed.
"I'll go catch it!" Newt grabbed his suitcase and rushed out.
Morrin didn't move. He looked at the pile of documents on the table, then at the unfinished paperwork.
As a capitalist, he couldn't leave until the money was in his pocket.
"We need to speed things up, Manager." Morrin tapped his fingers on the table, "I'm in a hurry."
...
Bank lobby.
Chaos had already begun.
Newt was chasing the Niffler, which had burrowed into the vault passage, through the crowd. On a bench, a chubby man with a mustache, carrying a similar brown suitcase, sat looking dejected.
Jacob Kowalski.
A dreamer who had just been refused a loan by the bank, and also a talented baker.
"Hey, buddy." Jacob looked at Newt rushing past him, holding a silver coin dropped by the Niffler, looking bewildered.
A few minutes later.
Morrin walked out of the reception room with the newly opened passbook and a thick stack of dollar bills.
He saw a mess.
Alarm bells were ringing.
Security guards were blowing whistles.
And on the steps at the bank entrance, Newt was being held tightly by the arm by the female Auror, TinaGoldstein.
"You are suspected of violating Article 3A of the Statute of Secrecy!" Tina said sternly, "Using magic in front of a Muggle! Come back to the Congress with me!"
Newt held his suitcase, looking innocent: "I was just looking for my..."
"Your pet."
Morrin walked over. He carried a cane, his expression calm, as if the chaos behind him had nothing to do with him.
"Mr. White!" Newt looked as if he had seen a savior.
Tina turned her head and stared at Morrin: "Are you his accomplice? The so-called investor?"
"I am also his legal advisor."
Morrin walked up to the two, his gaze sweeping over the wand in Tina's hand; although she had been demoted, she still carried it with her.
"Madam, I believe this is a misunderstanding. My client was just chasing a... squirrel that had run off."
"Squirrels don't stuff gold bars into their stomachs!" Tinasneered, "Come with me. Don't force me to use force."
Morrin looked at Tina.
He could certainly take action.
With his current strength, defeating a demoted Auror was easy.
But he didn't.
His gaze turned toward the end of the street.
There was an inconspicuous building there, the Woolworth Building.
The headquarters of the Wizarding Congress of the United States.
And also the location where Percival Graves—that is, Gellert Grindelwald—was disguised.
"Since you insist."
Morrin raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but a mysterious smile hung on the corner of his mouth.
"Then let's go to the Congress and talk. I also happen to want to see the American magical laws."
"Lead the way, Miss."
Tina was stunned; she clearly hadn't seen such a cooperative suspect.
She waved her wand, casting some kind of binding spell on the two—to Morrin, this spell was as weak as spider silk, and he could break free at any time—and then escorted them toward the Woolworth Building.
At the moment of turning, Morrin looked back at the street.
The chubby baker, Jacob Kowalski, was carrying a brown suitcase, disappearing into the crowd with a look of horror.
And the suitcase Newt was holding...
Morrin activated [True Sight].
That was Jacob's bakery case.
The suitcases had been swapped.
"Interesting plot correction force." Morrin thought to himself.
"But it doesn't matter. The suitcase is safer in that Muggle's hands."
"The point now is..."
Morrin looked at the towering building.
"...to go meet that first Dark Lord."
...
Wizarding Congress of the United States, underground floor.
It was resplendent here, filled with the gaudiness of the Art Deco style.
A huge magical barometer hung in mid-air, with the needle pointing to "Severe Threat".
Tina escorted the two into an office that looked like an interrogation room.
Standing there was a man in a black-and-white suit, with a meticulous hairstyle and a powerful aura.
Percival Graves.
Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"Tina." Graves turned around, his voice low and magnetic, "Weren't you transferred to the wand Permit Office? Why did you bring these two here?"
"They have a suitcase full of magical creatures, sir!" Tinaplaced Newt's suitcase on the table, "And they caused a riot in the bank! Even used magic in front of a Muggle!"
Graves's gaze did not look at the suitcase.
His eyes moved past Newt and fixed firmly on Morrin White.
Chapter 138 Gellert Grindelwald, Murtlap Venom
As Grindelwald, he possessed a near-beastly intuition for the aura of the strong.
From this boy who looked only in his teens, he caught a scent that was extremely dangerous, even causing him to feel a trace of... excitement.
It was the scent of his own kind.
Not the kind of rule-abiding Wizard, but the kind of ambitious person who attempted to break the rules and reshape the world.
"What is your name?" Graves walked up to Morrin, his deep eyes seemingly wanting to see through Morrin's soul, though he was actually using Legilimency.
[Multiple Mind Core (Purple · Ultimate)] — — Automatic Defense.
Morrin's brain instantly constructed a maze, blocking Graves's probing outside.
"Morrin White."
Morrin looked directly into Graves's eyes without avoiding his gaze.
"A... free trader from Britain."
Morrin specifically emphasized the word "free."
"Free?" Graves repeated the word playfully, a subtle smile curling the corners of his mouth. "In this world full of laws and oppression, freedom is an expensive luxury, Mr. White."
"I have money."
Morrin pulled a stack of freshly exchanged US dollars from his pocket, spinning them between his fingers.
"Besides, I have heard that the United States is a place full of dreams. For example..."
Morrin leaned closer to Graves, whispering in a tone only the two of them could understand: "...For example, breaking the Statute of Secrecy and letting Wizards rule the world?"
Graves's pupils contracted sharply.
He stared fixedly at Morrin.
This boy... knew who he was?
Just as the atmosphere was strained to the extreme.
Tina opened that case.
"Look! This is the evidence!" she shouted.
The case opened.
There were no roaring beasts.
Only a pile of neatly arranged bread and donuts that emitted an alluring aroma.
The room fell into dead silence.
"This..." Tina was dumbfounded.
"It looks delicious." Graves withdrew his gaze from Morrin, picked up a donut, and said in a mocking tone, "Miss Goldstein, is this what you called 'extremely dangerous magical creatures'?"
"No! This is impossible! The case was taken by mistake!" Tina explained in a panic.
"Enough."
Graves waved his hand.
"Since there is no evidence, let them go."
He turned around, his back to the crowd, but his voice was clearly transmitted to Morrin: "Mr. White. Although you are free now, I suggest that while you are in New York... you should act with caution."
"Recently, something in the shadows has been awakening."
"If you are interested..."
Graves looked back, a Grindelwald-style invitation: "...We can find a time to chat about business regarding 'freedom'."
Morrin adjusted his collar, picked up his cane, and bowed slightly to Graves.
"I would be delighted to, Mr. Director."
Morrin led Newt out of the office.
In the corridor.
Newt wiped his sweat: "The case! My case is in the hands of that Muggle! We must go find him! If the animals inside get out..."
"Don't rush, Newt."
Morrin looked at the stack of dollars in his hand, then looked at the system panel.
[Daily Check-in: Wizarding Congress Headquarters of the United States]
[Reward Obtained: Draw Count + 2]
[Current Count: 2]
"We have money, we have people, and we have clues."
Morrin looked at the bustling night view of New Yorkoutside the window.
"First, we go find that baker. Then..."
"...We go catch that thing hiding in the shadows of New York."
On the streets of New York.
The night was deep, and the streets after the rain reflected the dim, yellow light of the streetlamps.
Just after walking out of the Woolworth Wizarding Congress building, Newt Scamander grabbed Morrin's sleeve anxiously.
"Mr. White, you were in the bank just now... that manager saw you cast magic! In the United States, this is a serious crime! Miss Tina will definitely find out!"
"Relax, Newt."
Morrin White adjusted his collar, his expression calm: "The moment I left the bank reception room, I had already cast a silent 'Confundo' on Manager Bingley."
"Now in his memory, that silver brick is an inheritance left by his grandmother, and I am just an ordinary British gentleman who came to handle a deposit. As for those silver coins... he will think that he miscounted the money himself."
Morrin tapped the ground lightly with his cane: "In this world, memory is the most unreliable thing; just like an account book, it can be 'balanced' at any time."
Newt breathed a sigh of relief, but he immediately became anxious again: "The case! My case is still in the hands of that Muggle! If we don't find him quickly, the Murtlap inside might bite him!"
"Follow me."
Morrin took out the silver [Tracking Compass]; he had casually left a mark when he repaired Newt's case.
"The positioning shows that the case is in a place full of yeast and a musty smell. I think that is Mr. Kowalski's apartment."
...
14th Street, a dilapidated apartment building.
When the two arrived, a series of crashing sounds and a man's screams were already coming from upstairs.
"Ah! Let go! Damn thing!"
Newt's expression changed, and he rushed up the stairs.
Morrin followed unhurriedly behind.
The apartment door was ajar.
The room was in a mess. Furniture was knocked over, and glass shards were everywhere.
That chubby baker, Jacob Kowalski, was lying on the ground, and a pink monster that looked like a rat but had anemone-like tentacles on its back was biting his neck tightly.
A Murtlap.
"Don't move! I'll handle it!" Newt raised his wand, wanting to cast a spell.
"Too slow."
Morrin's figure flashed by.
He did not use his wand, but instead reached out his left hand, which was wearing a special dragon-hide glove.
[Half-Giant Strength] + [Magical Creature Affinity(Reverse Deterrence)].
Morrin grabbed the Murtlap by the neck.
That fierce beast was like a toy in his hand; it was instantly squeezed until its eyes rolled back, and it let go of its bite.
"Squeak..." The Murtlap emitted a sound of begging for mercy.
"Is this a Murtlap?"
Morrin held up this ugly creature, observing the tentacles on its back through [True Sight].
"Is this the creature that can extract 'Murtlap Essence' capable of treating Dark Arts wounds? Very valuable. If I were to farm them on a large scale in my pharmaceutical factory..."
"Please put it back in the case, Mr. White!" Newt opened the case with a pained expression; it had returned to that space filled with animals.
Morrin casually threw the rat inside, then looked at Jacobon the ground.
Jacob's face was pale, his wound was bleeding, and he was convulsing.
"He is poisoned." Newt checked. "After a Murtlap bites someone, it causes exhaustion, and even some... hallucinations."
"No, if this venom is handled properly, it is a potent anti-curse agent."
Chapter 139: The Mind-Reading Waitress and the Brain's Firewall
Morrin crouched down and pulled a golden potion from his pocket—part of the stock he had brought with him from Hogwarts—and dripped a single drop onto Jacob's wound.
The wound healed instantly.
Jacob stopped twitching, but he still stared blankly at Morrin and Newt, muttering to himself: "I must be dreaming... I want to open a bakery..."
"Poor Muggle."
At that moment, a stern voice came from the doorway.
Tina Goldstein had caught up again.
She looked at the messy room and the injured Jacob, her brow furrowed.
"You've caused trouble again." Tina sighed. "We can't leave him here. He's seen too much, but I can't erase his memory because I can't use a Memory Charm freely right now, and he needs to rest."
"Take him with you."
Morrin stood up and clapped his hands.
"To your place, Miss Goldstein."
"What?!" Tina's eyes widened.
"Don't you want to keep an eye on us?" Morrin said matter-of-factly. "What could be safer than keeping suspects right under your nose? Besides..."
Morrin glanced out the window: "...The landlady seems to be coming up to collect rent. If you don't want to explain why the room was torn apart, we'd better disappear now."
...
Tina's apartment.
It was a cozy little room. A fire was burning in the hearth, and a sweet aroma of cooking wafted through the air.
"Queenie! We have guests!" Tina called out.
A Witch wearing a pink silk dress, with blonde hair and blue eyes, so beautiful that one couldn't look away, walked out.
Queenie Goldstein.
Tina's sister.
She was not only a beauty but also a natural and extremely powerful Legilimency master.
She could hear people's inner thoughts anytime, anywhere, without even needing a wand or eye contact.
"Oh, a baker, a zoologist..."
Queenie's charming large eyes swept over Jacob and Newt, and she revealed a sweet smile: "...and a Mugglewho doesn't want to open a bakery, and a Briton worried about his Erumpent being in heat in his case."
Newt awkwardly covered his case. Jacob looked at Queenie with a face full of infatuation, as if he had seen an angel.
Finally, Queenie's gaze fell on Morrin White.
Her originally relaxed smile suddenly froze.
She looked at Morrin, her brow slightly furrowed, as if she were looking at an ancient book that was locked and written in a language she had never seen before.
"You..." Queenie was somewhat confused. "I can't see what you're thinking. Or is it... do you have many rooms in your mind?"
Morrin sat on the sofa, twirling his cane, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
[Multiple Mind Core (Purple · Extreme)]—Mind Maze activated.
[Occlumency], though not fully mastered, was enough to simulate with multi-threaded thinking.
On the surface of his mind, Morrin was deliberately playing a fake, dull memory: "Analysis of Cotton Futures Price Trends in the 1926 New York Financial Market."
"You are very special, Miss Goldstein."
Morrin looked at Queenie: "Prying into a gentleman's mind at will is not very polite behavior. Especially when this gentleman is thinking about how to short the stock market tomorrow."
"Shorting?" Queenie blinked. "So many numbers... like a waterfall. Don't you feel tired?"
"How could making money be tiring?"
Morrin had no hostility.
On the contrary, he was very interested in Queenie's ability.
[Scan Target]: Queenie Goldstein
[Characteristics Discovered]:
[Gold] Natural Legilimency: No spell needed, passively receiving the surface thoughts of everyone around. This is a gift, and also a curse. She cannot turn off this ability, just like living in a room full of noise.
"Another Gold one." Morrin calculated in his heart, "And an extremely rare mental-type talent."
He walked up to Queenie and took out an alchemical earring he had picked up in Knockturn Alley and never used.
"A gift for you, beautiful lady."
"What is this?" Queenie asked curiously as she took it.
"A [Mental Filter]," Morrin explained. "It can help you block out those noisy, meaningless inner thoughts around you. Letting you hear only what you want to hear."
Queenie looked at Morrin in surprise.
She was indeed in pain, surrounded by countless voices every day.
She put on the earring.
Instantly, the world became quiet.
She could only hear the sound of Tina cooking in the kitchen, and Jacob's simple praise.
"My goodness..." Queenie looked at Morrin gratefully, "Thank you! This is too precious!"
"Just a small gift."
Morrin stepped back, hiding his merits and achievements.
"In exchange, we need to stay here for a few days. And..."
Morrin's gaze became profound: "...I heard that your Wizarding Congress is currently hunting a Dark Wizardnamed 'Grindelwald'?"
"Perhaps we can talk about this topic."
Dinner began.
Jacob was eating pies made by magic, and Newt was worried about his case.
And Morrin, while elegantly cutting his steak, was perfecting his "Hunting Plan" in his mind.
"Tomorrow." Morrin looked at the night outside the window.
"I'm going to meet that orphan hiding in the alley, Credence. Before he explodes, I want to give him an... employment contract first."
Late at night.
In Tina and Queenie's apartment, the lights had been extinguished.
Jacob Kowalski was lying on the bed in the guest room, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he had gone mad.
"Mr. Kowalski?"
Newt Scamander walked over on tiptoe and pointed to the brown leather case placed in the center of the carpet.
"In order to ensure everyone's safety, I think I need to... go inside and check. Do you want to come along?"
Jacob was stunned: "Go inside? Into the case?"
"Of course."
Morrin White's voice came from the shadows.
He was not asleep, still wearing that shirt, holding a glass of water in his hand.
"This is no ordinary case, Jacob. This is a... 'Portable Ecological Circulation System'."
Morrin put down the water glass, his eyes flashing with a look of inquiry.
He had long wanted to see the internal structure of this case. This was crucial for the future research and development of spatial products for his [White Heavy Industries].
Newt opened the case and actually walked inside as if going down stairs.
"Come on in." Newt's voice came from the case.
Jacob followed cautiously.
Morrin followed closely behind.
Inside the case.
The moment Morrin's feet touched the ground, even he couldn't help but let out a sigh of admiration.
This was not just a room.
This was a world.
Above was a simulated starry sky, and beneath his feet was soft earth.
It was divided into different ecological zones: bamboo forests, deserts, snowy areas, and grasslands. The air was filled with the scents of various strange plants and the low growls of beasts.
Chapter 140: The Thunderbird's Storm and the Parsed Laws of Space
[ Gate of Truth (Gold) ] — — Spatial Architecture Analysis.
Golden light swirled in Morrin's pupils.
What he saw was not the scenery, but countless complex and exquisite spatial folding runes.
"A genius design." Morrin walked into Newt's little shed, his fingers tracing the bottles and jars filled with herbs. "Using the magic fields of different creatures to support a subspace, forming a self-sufficient cycle. Mr. Scamander, your attainments in spatial Alchemy are enough for you to be the Principal at Hogwarts."
Newt scratched his head, feeling a bit shy. "I just... wanted to give them a home."
"Look at that!" Jacob pointed at a huge, glowing creature floating in mid-air.
That was a Nundu, its breath carrying deadly toxic gas, but under Newt's soothing, it was like a big cat.
There were also Graphorns, the last breeding pair.
But what caught Morrin's eye the most was the area that occupied the largest space — — the wilderness of Arizona.
A huge golden bird with three pairs of wings was standing on a rock.
When it flapped its wings, lightning and storms were instantly generated in the surrounding air.
Thunderbird.
Its name is Frank.
"It's so beautiful..." Jacob stared, dumbfounded.
Morrin walked over.
The Thunderbird turned its head vigilantly, its sharp eyes fixed on Morrin.
It sensed the [ Dragon Might ] on Morrin.
That was the aura of another top predator.
Boom!
The clouds around the Thunderbird began to gather, and lightning crackled between its wings.
"Don't be nervous, big guy." Newt tried to soothe it.
"Let me handle it."
Morrin raised his hand, signaling Newt to step back.
He did not use his wand, nor did he release Dragon Might to suppress it.
He just calmly extended his right hand, wearing a dragon-hide glove, palm upward, making an equal and inviting gesture.
[ Magical Creature Affinity (Purple) ] — — Natural Resonance.
Morrin looked into the Thunderbird's eyes and said softly:
"You really want to go home, don't you? Back to the Arizona desert, back into the storm."
The Thunderbird tilted its head.
It felt a kind of... promise from this human.
It slowly lowered its head, and its huge beak gently touched Morrin's palm.
The electric current traveled through Morrin's arm to his whole body, but he did not pull back.
[ Contact Successful! ]
[ Legendary Creature Detected: Thunderbird ]
[ Current Draw Count: 2 ]
"Worth a try." Morrin thought to himself.
[ Consumed Draw Count x 1 ]
[ Draw Successful! ]
[ Congratulations on acquiring the Trait ]: Storm Perception (Purple)
[ Description ]: You have extraordinary sensitivity to changes in airflow, lightning, and weather. You can predict storms in advance and even guide the direction of lightning to a certain extent.
Morrin withdrew his hand, a tingling sensation still lingering on his palm.
This was worth it.
"Its name is Frank," Newt said, walking over. "I came to the United States just to send it home."
"It will go back." Morrin looked at the giant bird. "And, it will soon do us a big favor."
Credence would truly go berserk, and he was counting on it to use the Obliviation Rain to cleanse New York.
Next, Morrin visited the habitat of the Demiguise and the nest of the Erumpent.
Finally, he stood before a mass of black, fluid substance floating in mid-air.
obscurus.
This was separated by Newt from a deceased Sudanese girl.
Morrin's eyes instantly became solemn.
This was one of the ultimate goals of his trip.
"This thing... is a product of pure magic run amok." Morrinfelt that destructive energy through the protective shield. "It is a parasite, and also the embodiment of the host's pain."
"Yes," Newt said sadly. "It breeds in places without love and eventually devours the host."
"If there is no love..."
Morrin's fingers tapped gently on the protective shield, a trace of cold calculation flashing in his eyes:
"...then replace it with 'control'."
"Mr. Scamander, this sample is very enlightening to me. Perhaps I can find a way to let an Obscurial live past ten."
Newt looked at him in surprise. "Really?"
"I am a businessman; I do not make false promises."
Morrin turned and looked towards the exit.
"Alright, the tour is over."
Morrin clapped his hands, returning to that capitalist indifference:
"Now, let us return to the real world. Let's take stock of your 'inventory'. I have a premonition that you..."
Newt's face turned pale instantly. "Oh, no..."
The three of them climbed out of the case.
In Tina Goldstein's apartment, sunlight barely penetrated the grey smog unique to New York.
Newt Scamander knelt on the floor, the brown suitcase wide open.
He was sticking his head into the case, conducting a "roll call" that filled him with despair.
"Niffler... is missing."
"Bowtruckle... Pickett is here."
"Erumpent... Oh, Merlin, it ran away! It's in heat!"
"And the Demiguise and the Occamy..."
Newt pulled his head out of the case, looking with a pale face at Morrin, who was drinking coffee, and Jacob, who was eating breakfast.
"Mr. White... the situation is worse than I imagined. Yesterday, when Mr. Jacob opened the case, at least four high-risk magical creatures ran into downtown New York."
Jacob looked guilty. "Sorry, buddy. I thought that was my bread."
"As expected."
Morrin White put down his coffee cup, his expression calm.
He had long known the nature of the plot.
If the animals didn't run, how would the story begin? If the story didn't begin, how could he fish in troubled waters?
"This is a crisis, Mr. Scamander. But it is also an opportunity."
Morrin stood up and put on that black trench coat, which still looked too stylish and expensive for 1926.
"Do you want to catch these four creatures in this strange city, avoiding the eyes of Muggle police and the Aurors of the Wizarding Congress?"
"Yes, I must catch them back!" Newt said anxiously.
"Relying on just us few is not enough."
Morrin picked up his cane, walked to the window, and watched the bustling street below.
"We need eyes and ears. We need intelligence. We need the 'local snakes' here."
"And..." A glimmer of far-sightedness flashed in Morrin's eyes, "Since I have come to this era, I cannot return empty-handed. I am going to establish a branch here."
"For the future of 1998, we need some... American allies."
"Let's go." Morrin waved his hand. "Bring the case. We are going to a good place."