Marchioni was a man driven by the pursuit of wealth, and he always displayed this fact very directly.
After signing the contract, Marchioni immediately urged them to proceed with the next step, unwilling to waste a single second of money-making time. This time, Professor Mori asked Steven to entertain the guests at the party, while he accompanied Wade to Marchioni's magical workshop.
"We'd better get the first batch of goods on the shelves before school starts. Students and their parents will definitely be willing to empty their wallets to buy our products," Marchioni said enthusiastically. "We can also launch different packaging, different quantities, and different qualities. Even if we just add some prints and sprinkle some gold dust on parchment, pure-blood nobles will be willing to pay triple the price. Oh, and I need to quickly make a batch of posters and put them up in Diagon Alley tomorrow morning!"
Wade couldn't help but click his tongue and asked, "Will it be ready in time?"
"Of course!" Marchioni winked. "Dear Wade, anything is possible in the magical world!"
Wade had thought he possessed some marvelous spell to accelerate production, but upon using Floo powder to arrive at Marchioni's company, he discovered it was the power of money at work.
The company lobby was vast, with a flowing waterfall in the center, and the words "Aslan's Magical Workshop" shimmered in gold on the rippling water. The arched dome was adorned with paintings of various magical creatures, some of which were slowly moving. A circle of burning fireplaces surrounded the area, with green flames flickering, and wizards emerged from them from time to time.
"Why the sudden notice for overtime during Christmas break?" a young man grumbled loudly, apparently not noticing his boss nearby. "I was planning to travel to Italy!"
"I heard there's an urgent product that needs to be made," another witch said happily. "Overtime pay is triple the usual rate!"
The short-haired young man immediately calmed down. "Oh, in that case, that's not bad."
"Excuse me—please make way—"
A goblin shouted loudly, directing a box as tall as a small mountain, moving with difficulty. He moved very slowly because there were many people in the hall, which made the goblin seem quite irritable.
The sudden increase in workload made everything chaotic, with several house-elves scurrying between people's legs, running back and forth, delivering various items.
Above the hall, colorful paper airplanes circled in groups, occasionally spotting someone and swooping down from above with a whoosh.
"Oh, damn it!" A paper airplane suddenly pierced a wizard's hat. He took off the airplane, unfolded it, and immediately shouted, "Why are we only realizing now that there isn't enough Scaly Fish Oil! We were supposed to check inventory before the holidays and replenish any shortages! Don't let me find out who was derelict in their duties!"
He rushed through the crowd, almost knocking over the goblin, who threw down the box and cursed loudly in anger.
Wade was greatly surprised.
Judging by the chaotic state of the magical workshop, Marchioni must have ordered all employees to prepare for overtime as soon as he saw the effects of the Book of Friends—at that time, everyone was still hoping to negotiate with Professor Mori, but the determined Marchioni had probably already planned out how the subsequent work would unfold.
"Sorry, it's really chaotic here today! It's not usually like this. Wade, Professor, follow me, this way."
Marchioni led Wade and Professor Mori through the crowd and into a private elevator, finally letting out a sigh of relief. He pressed the button for "Sixth Floor – Technical Department" and loosened his collar.
"Your workshop has seven floors now?" Professor Mori narrowed his eyes at the row of elevator buttons. "I remember it only had five floors last time I was here."
"Yes, we've developed well these past few years," Marchioni said proudly. "The modification of magical radios was a huge undertaking, and I have to thank the Professor for being willing to grant us the authorization."
"Not many wizards are willing to actively embrace new things, let alone modify Muggle objects. Many still think Muggles are foolish, primitive creatures, which is utterly absurd!"
"The first time I went to school, when I saw that scarlet train thundering across the Scottish Highlands like a giant beast, I was deeply moved by the wisdom and power of Muggles. After graduating, I originally wanted to sneak into a Muggle university to study, but due to various reasons, I regretfully gave up in the end…"
"—What various reasons? Wasn't it just because you couldn't understand anything?" Professor Mori acidly exposed the truth.
"Hahaha—don't be so blunt in front of a child, Professor!"
Wade suddenly realized that although Professor Mori often criticized Marchioni, their relationship was much better than it appeared on the surface. When they spoke privately, there was a unique rapport between them.
He silently listened, not interrupting, as he looked at the posters plastered on the elevator.
The technical department consisted of two goblins and five or six wizards, who had already prepared all sorts of tools and were waiting in the office. This place was different from a Muggle office; it had various strange, slowly moving magical objects, with lights of different colors flashing intermittently, and the room was filled with many subtle sounds.
Upon arriving, Professor Mori and Marchioni found an empty table and sat down to drink tea, leaving Wade to communicate with the technical department.
Wade first demonstrated the process of creating the Book of Friends, having brought pre-made potions for the time-consuming concoction. The people present were all experts; one viewing was enough for them to grasp the general procedure. Then, they broke down the entire process step by step, aiming for a point where over eighty percent of the smaller steps could be completed even by a third-year Hogwarts student. Some also constantly calculated how to further reduce costs and gathered various materials for concoction. In less than half an hour, the technical department had already finalized the production process for the first batch of products, and the entire magical1 workshop truly entered a high-speed operational phase.
During this time, although Marchioni only occasionally chatted in low tones with Professor Mori, he was subtly observing Wade the entire time.
The black-haired boy was not yet tall. After demonstrating his work, he spoke little, but every time he did, his words were insightful and to the point. Members of the technical department tried to alter his runic circuit several times, but before they could even act, he pointed out the consequences—either reduced stability or delayed or even lost information transmission.
As it turned out, he was always right.
Marchioni secretly stuck out his tongue, finally understanding why Professor Mori had always looked down on his abilities—even though he had scored an E (Exceeds Expectations) in the Ultimate Wizarding Registration Exam…
Look at this child; he not only possessed a brilliant creative mind but also a diligent attitude toward learning, and even a highly practical, rigorously tested experimental spirit. How else could he be so knowledgeable about every change if he hadn't already tried dozens, even hundreds of times?
No wonder, given Professor Mori's current standing, he was willing to set aside his pride to champion this child, personally stepping in to secure greater benefits for him.
Genius flows like a river; there are many, many of them. Marchioni himself was called a genius by some, which is why he understood even more clearly—many geniuses, if they only possess a clever mind, will eventually fade into obscurity as they grow older, or even, due to being overly "clever," go straight to Azkaban for further study. Only a genius like Wade—as long as he doesn't die prematurely—his achievements are beyond doubt, and his glory is eWadeent at a glance.
How should he win over such a genius?
Marchioni revised the strategy he had already adjusted three times in his mind.
Eleven years old… Could this child truly be only eleven years old? It made his own thirty-plus years of life seem like he had lived them as a Flobberworm…
Could it be…
Suddenly, Marchioni leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Professor—Professor Mori—just tell me the truth—this child is actually your illegitimate son, isn't he?"
Wade, who was discussing lead powder ratios with the technical department, suddenly heard a scream. He turned his head and saw Marchioni had rolled off the table onto the floor, while Professor Mori smiled, indicating that nothing was amiss.
—Though, for some reason, his smile was a little menacing.
Wade blinked blankly.
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