Chapter 906
Reporters and Vendors
Chapter 906 Reporters and Vendors
The boss's brow twitched, his cloudy eyes glancing at the photo as he asked, "What do you want with him?"
Tom Heck perked up, but a gossipy smile spread across his face: "His wife insists he's cheating on her and asked me to investigate. Someone said they saw him around here."
"Oh, then they're right."
The boss, with undisguised disdain and a hint of envy, said, "That guy is a regular at the Stonefield family's house. Look, in that building behind you, they have all kinds of luxury!"
Tom Heck handed over a few bills at the opportune moment and asked, "When? You know, I always have to take a few pictures so I can explain it to his wife."
As he spoke, he casually patted his camera.
"I can't remember that... Those big shots, when they drive past my shabby shop, they always have the windows tightly shut, and they just drive by like a gust of wind!"
The boss muttered to himself as he reached for the money on the table.
Tom Heck pressed down on the banknotes and looked at the other person with a half-smile.
"Okay, okay, I do know a little something else, but you can't tell anyone that I told you."
The boss lowered his voice: "That old man from the Stonefield family, the one in the wheelchair, the one even the president would reach out to greet, was actually very polite to the person you found, and even personally entertained him."
As he pulled the money out and stuffed it into his trouser pocket, he nervously glanced around, then leaned close to Tom Hack and said:
“Once, when I went to throw away the trash at the back of the alley, I overheard two of their bodyguards saying that the man could grant their patriarch unimaginable power.”
As he spoke, a knowing smile appeared on his face.
"What kind of drugs is he selling? William Stonefield is so old, yet he still can't stop. Since you know that man's wife, do you have a way to get some..."
Tom Heck blinked: "--Huh?"
"Of course, I haven't actually reached the point where I need that kind of medicine yet," the shopkeeper said, trying to cover up his misunderstanding. "I just wanted to see what could make that old guy want it so badly?"
Tom Heck gave a few perfunctory replies and left the store, trembling with excitement.
Corbit has disappeared.
The Magical Congress claims that the guy colluded with the Purgers and Muggles, betraying the secrets of the magical world and seriously violating the Secrecy Act.
When the Aurors tried to capture him, Corbit resisted fiercely, injuring six people before escaping with serious injuries.
The Magical Congress issued an arrest warrant to the entire magical world, sternly declaring that they would not tolerate such behavior and that anyone who could provide clues about Corbit's location would receive a large reward.
But Tom Heck wasn't interested in Galon at all; he was simply too excited to contain himself for the big secret he was about to uncover.
What kind of tempting benefits would drive a high-ranking deputy minister of the Ministry of State Security to risk betraying his own comrades?
What secrets did the Muggles obtain from him? Why haven't they revealed it to their society?
After Corbett disappeared, did he join forces with those scoundrels? Before his disappearance, as a high-ranking official, did he implicate others?
Whenever Tom Heck thinks about these unanswered questions, he feels like he's wound up a clockwork, wishing he could be on the road investigating 24/7.
Now, he has finally obtained a useful clue—
Corbett is going to help a Muggle gain unimaginable power.
Tom Heck was certainly not foolish enough to think it was some kind of little pill that would restore the old man's virility.
What could possibly require the involvement of a wizard? ...An elixir of immortality? An invisibility cloak? Or perhaps...magic itself?
He seemed to clearly hear the rhythm of his own pulse, one beat after another, rapid and full of anticipation.
But Tom Heck whispered to himself, "Be patient, Heck! The investigation has only just begun..." "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..."
A somewhat noisy song echoed in my ears, along with a man's deliberately lowered voice: "Here's your chocolate ice cream."
Tom Heck patted his pockets and saw that he still had two Muggle bills left from the last exchange, so he walked toward the ice cream truck.
—Let's buy an ice cream, consider it a reward for ourselves! Today is a day worth celebrating.
Suddenly, Tom Heck stopped in his tracks, his gaze falling on the profile of the man wearing a baseball cap who was bending down to hand an ice cream cone to a child.
The moment the other person stood up, Tom's smile froze, turning into utter astonishment.
"—Rolando Stern?"
The image of the shy, quiet, yet academically outstanding student in my memory stands in stark contrast to the image of this cheaply dressed, weary-looking vendor before me.
"What happened to this guy? I thought he must be an elite in the Ministry of Magic! I never expected him to have fallen into such a sorry state!"
Tom Heck muttered to himself and casually raised his camera.
"Crack!"
The camera captured the moment Stern handed an ice cream cone out the window to a Muggle child.
"Dinner next week is all up to you, Stern." Tom Heck muttered to himself, "What's wrong with everyone lately? The Rappaport Law was repealed, and everyone's scrambling to deal with Muggles?"
He didn't buy any more ice cream. As he turned to leave, he glanced back at the man surrounded by customers.
"Don't blame me for showing people your pathetic side!"
Heck muttered, "After the report is published, maybe a big boss will be willing to sponsor you. You might even have to thank me then!"
……
Stern didn't notice what the disheveled man in the distance was doing; his entire attention was drawn to the person on the other side.
Principal Fontana seemed determined to help his former student. After dropping his daughter off at home, he changed into Muggle attire and followed the ice cream truck at a distance.
However, he didn't make any special effort to conceal himself while following the figure. Every time Stern caught sight of that faint, almost imperceptible silhouette, he felt a sharp jolt to his nerves.
With Fontana nearby, he not only couldn't speak to the leader anymore, but he also had to continue his act to the end, and couldn't do anything that was inconsistent with his identity.
But it's getting late now. When there are no more customers on the street, should I take Fontana to my home?
Stern was anxious and accidentally made the wrong ice cream, so he had to make another one for the little customer.
He now deeply regrets it—regrets not disguising himself properly when he went out.
But who could have imagined? In a city of eight million people, with complete social isolation between the two sides, it's still possible to bump into acquaintances...
(End of this chapter)