I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 129 V Me 50

Fudge's statement, once published, immediately triggered a huge reversal.

In the eyes of wizards in the British magical world, he now appears to be a warrior.

Magic knows no borders, but wizards do. Wizards in almost every country do not want their personal affairs interfered with.

Anyway, no one can prove whether there was a "minor bureaucrat from Paris," since no one can travel all the way to the International Wizarding Association to verify it.

As for the International Wizarding Association, Fudge had already taken care of it, and no one would expose his "lies".

Louis's Squib factory was able to reopen, and Fudge even went there in person, behaving very approachably. He even imitated Louis by holding the hands of the Squibs and asking them all sorts of questions. However, his micro-expressions were very unnatural, which was caught by our Ms. Skeeter, who made a sarcastic remark about it in the Daily Prophet.

"Our Minister of Magic is putting on a terrible impersonation show."

This is the front page of today's Daily Prophet.

But Fudge didn't care about that; between two evils, he chose the lesser one, and at least the impact of that previous thorny issue had disappeared.

However, to be fair, his concern and concern for a dud was somewhat superfluous.

Now, thanks to this opportunity to practice in the void, Fudge's reputation in the British magical world has reached its zenith.

—The Slytherin Common Room.

"He's a seasoned politician after all." Louis put down his newspaper, showing no sign of frustration, and instead praised Fudge: "Not bad, not bad, but I'm not surprised at all."

"Are we just going to let it go like this?" Christa's expression wasn't good. Although she was usually a bit of a goofball, she was still very loyal to Louis. At least, she was more unhappy than anyone else that Louis's interests had been violated.

"We've achieved our goal, Chris." Louis chuckled. "One must take things one step at a time. I never thought we could accomplish everything in one fell swoop and take down Fudge all at once."

"Everything takes time. Now is not a good time. Since he has found a way to get away, it would be pointless to continue to pester him, and it would also make us look petty."

"Besides, after we ousted Fudge, we don't have a suitable candidate to fill the position of Minister of Magic, so... it's better to let him run around for a few more years." Louis stuffed his toes into Vitalie's arms, and the latter tactfully began to pound his calves.

"It's true that politics is a life-or-death struggle, but it's not a true life-or-death battle between two people using magic; there are many things to consider..."

"Moreover, the masses are ignorant and blindly obedient, so never try to dampen their enthusiasm when they are blindly following," Louis concluded.

He reached out and beckoned to Christa, who came over and pulled a large, golden pear from her pocket.

Louis happily took the large pear and took a big bite, saying indistinctly, "I have to say, this thorn pear, a specialty of Stranglethorn Vale, tastes really good."

"I'm glad Master likes it." Christa chuckled foolishly, sat behind Louis, and supported him, her little hands beginning to massage his shoulders.

"You certainly know how to enjoy yourself." Catherine couldn't help but chuckle as she read Louis's notes on lightning magic.

"Isn't the point of life to enjoy yourself?" Louis shrugged, continuing to enjoy the kneading of his secretary and maid.

Catherine put down the notebook and asked Louis, "Why don't you think about how to open up the market for your moonberry juice?"

Louis chuckled and pinched Christa's waist, then, amidst her startled cry, said with a grin, "You're worrying about the wrong thing. I never need to worry about how to get a GG in the Muggle world."

Yes, of course he doesn't need to worry.

As for why, it all started with yesterday's dinner.

Louis's aunt hosted a banquet at the palace for the British hawk commander. During the banquet, Lady Barbara tasted a sip of moonberry juice and was amazed by its delicious flavor, instantly captivated by its rich and mellow taste.

Many of the dignitaries attending the banquet showed interest, especially after seeing the aunt's much younger appearance, which made the ladies even more excited.

No woman can resist looking younger, especially as she gets older.

No one questioned the efficacy of the juice, after all, the living guy in front of them was right there, leaving them no choice but to believe it—you say it's some other technology? Don't be ridiculous, how could the UK possibly possess technology that even the US doesn't have? Besides, the speed at which the US gets information from the UK is usually much faster than that of 10 Downing Street.

It has long been so thoroughly infiltrated that it is completely transparent.

During the banquet, news about moonberry juice spread like wildfire thanks to the efforts of certain individuals, and almost that very evening, all the moonberry juice at various sales points was sold out.

In Britain, the royal family is always the best sales promoter. They don't even need to personally promote what's good or bad; just showing their face on camera or mentioning it briefly is far more effective than any celebrity.

The hierarchy of celebrities is still very strict.

The phone of every salesperson sent out by the factory was ringing off the hook. The bosses who had reluctantly accepted the juice a few days ago seemed to have changed their attitude today. Some pleaded softly, some were tough, and some even started yelling, but they all conveyed the same message.

"I want juice! As much as you want!"

However, the factory was also in a dilemma. Production capacity could not keep up with the sales speed at all. They could only ask for instructions from higher levels, and eventually it reached Louis.

"If we don't have it, we don't have it." Louis was quite easygoing. "It's not good to sell too much of this kind of good quality, inexpensive juice. It's better to have limited supply and limited sales."

Yes, it's only for British people to buy, and each person can only buy five bottles per day.

This regulation even sparked a wave of opposition around the world, with countries across the globe protesting against the "discrimination" by Hogwarts.

French newspapers even published articles overnight criticizing Hogwarts for engaging in such behavior in today's globalized world, arguing that it was undoubtedly a step backward in history.

Yes, Lewis's company is called Hogwarts...

Dumbledore didn't object to this, after all, Lewis was also a member of Hogwarts.

Louis didn't care what these people were saying at all. Anyway, it had little to do with him. He didn't forbid them from buying juice from the British who had bought it at a higher price. It was just a small perk for the British people.

The current state of Hogwarts in England is like Qin Shi Huang eating peppercorns – completely exhausted and numb.

This conscientious national enterprise has won unanimous praise from all the British people – after all, everyone can benefit from it. Foreigners are flocking to this juice. If they want to make a little money, they can just buy a couple of bottles at the supermarket and resell them for three, four, or five times the price.

Anyway, there's no worry about selling them.

Aside from British public intellectuals, the kind who took foreign money, they found an angle that no one had ever thought of—they actually started attacking Lewis's conscience.

To be honest, public intellectuals, these canine creatures, have never had a conscience.

They are somewhere between dogs and wolves. As long as they bark happily, people will come and give them meat to eat. But once there isn't enough meat, they will turn around and devour their master.

On the black market, moonberry juice has been sold for ten or even dozens of times its original price.

In the wizarding world, moonberry juice is equally popular—Louis even added it to Hogwarts Thursday Madness, where a cup of about 300 ml of moonberry juice is included with the purchase of a Hogwarts Thursday Madness meal.

The wizarding world went completely crazy. Countless orders flooded into Hogwarts. Every Thursday, the house-elves of Hogwarts had to work overtime to prepare food. As a race with work ingrained in their DNA, they were happily busy and grateful to Lord Louis for giving them the opportunity to be so happy.

This was something Louis hadn't expected.

If he knew, he would say, "Please don't engrave all sorts of strange things into your DNA..."

The Daily Prophet even created short, humorous copy to promote KFC's Crazy Thursday.

For example, the first short story published was written by Louis.

I am a wizard who suffered endless humiliation. In my twenties, I suddenly lost all my magical abilities. My wife abandoned me, my brother betrayed me, and my friends abandoned me. Just then, my wife and brother conspired to kill me. They tricked me into leaving and used a spell to throw me off a cliff. Just when I was filled with rage and thought my life was over, Merlin suddenly appeared and saved me. Not only did I regain my magic, but I also learned ancient magic. With a wave of my hand, I can shatter the darkness with lightning; with the blink of an eye, I can change the weather with magic. Now I have completed my training and am ready to embark on my path of revenge. Mail me fifty knuts for a meal at Hogwarts Mad Thursday, and I will continue to tell you my revenge story.

It should be said that Shakespeare's stories are well-written, but the sense of immersion for wizards is not that strong; the short stories circulating in the magical world are very traditional, simple adventure novels about knights and wizards, so it is no exaggeration to say that the magical world is a literary wasteland.

Louis's sudden move immediately piqued everyone's interest.

To his surprise, the editorial department of the Daily Prophet received countless letters from owls overnight, each accompanied by fifty copper nut, with the note: "Fifty for you, I want to see that revenge story."

Miss Skeeter had no choice but to turn to Louis for help. Louis was at his wit's end, so he racked his brains to rewrite the story into a classic tale of annulment that conformed to the common sense of the magical world. He published two chapters of the Daily Prophet, and as a result, the Daily Prophet became the most prestigious newspaper in the British magical world—even the magical communities of European countries across the ocean were inquiring about the Daily Prophet.

The Squibs at the factory were working almost non-stop, and Louis had repeatedly told them not to work so hard. But to repay Louis for taking them in, the Squibs decided to work 996 every day.

After all, they had never had any entertainment before, and they didn't even know what entertainment was.

Moved by this, Louis announced a mandatory eight-hour workday at the factory—eight hours of work, eight hours of personal leisure time, and eight hours of rest.

He hired many teachers to cultivate the hobbies of these "dumb" students, such as playing musical instruments, chess, singing, dancing, rapping, playing ball, and so on. As long as you fill out an application form based on the activities you are interested in, you can go to the interest class to learn what you really like.

Louis ultimately did not treat his employees unfairly. In the first month, each of them received a salary of 500 Galleons and various subsidies—after all, they had been working overtime for the first half of the month.

Five hundred Galleons is an incredibly high salary that many people would envy; at least a Hogwarts professor wouldn't earn that much in a month.

On the very night that news of the Squirts' salaries spread like wildfire, Lewis went to Professor Snape's office.

"If you have so much money you don't know what to do with it, remember you have a poor professor waiting for his various new utensils and medicines." This was Snape's first sentence after meeting Lewis.

Louis blinked, looking adorably innocent. "Professor, you're a Potions Master, how could you be short of money?"

"All the potions were donated to Madam Pomfrey's medical wing," Snape snorted, seemingly dissatisfied with Dumbledore's stinginess.

Louis stretched out his hand with a look of disbelief: "Professor, it's Thursday today. Give me fifty knaps. I want to eat Hogwarts Mad Thursday."

Snape looked at him indifferently and said expressionlessly, "Hagrid is probably the richest person at Hogwarts. He and your mother are such good friends, why don't you go ask him for money?"

"Aren't you also my mother's good friend?" Louis's words left Snape speechless.

"Alright, I imagine you didn't come here for those fifty Knats." Snape's hawk-like gaze fell on Louis. "Let me guess, perhaps there's been a slight problem with your lecture, and you need your professor to step in?"

Are you still thinking about your Defense Against the Dark Arts class?

Louis smirked and pulled a few sheets of paper from his pocket, handing them to Snape.

These are all alchemy recipes that the students have managed to obtain, such as basic healing potions, basic mana potions, basic toughness potions, underwater breathing potions, and cold resistance potions.

Snape took the recipes, and the professional was almost instantly captivated by them.

"Where did you find this?" he asked without looking up as he flipped through the recipe.

"It's a secret." Louis chuckled mischievously. "Just tell me if these formulas work or not."

"We'll only know for sure after we see the finished product." Snape glanced at the recipes briefly, then put them down. "They look somewhat promising. Alright, I'll keep the recipes. If there's nothing else, you can leave."

"You're really discarding me after I've served my purpose, Professor."

"That's right, I'm just discarding them after they've served their purpose." Snape was clearly in a good mood, and even made a joke for the first time ever.

"So, where are my fifty nut?" Louis spread his little hands.

Snape pointed to the door.

"You must be Eugénie Grandet." Louis shrugged and left the Potions Department office.

(End of this chapter)