Chapter 171: Leashing the Evil Dog

White Ferret Mountain.

Murphy sits leisurely in his small courtyard, watching several children driving away goblins on the distant plain.

With his current far‑sight, he can clearly bring a bug thousands of meters away into view, so even here he can see George and Fred's mischievous smiles; they seem to be planning a big explosion for the goblins.

Ron clumsily throws stones, while an angry Ginny stands nearby, having been hit by a goblin's mud and ready for revenge.

Murphy watches with great interest.

He has recently been staying here often for convalescence, and his relationship with the Weasley family is good; occasionally Murphy even visits, giving the kids small gifts, such as recently handing over a few Sweeping Seven‑Star wands, which made Ron extremely happy.

Arthur also often drops by, bringing Molly's cooking and discussing things about the Muggle World with him.

As Director of the Department of Prohibiting Misuse of Muggle Items, Arthur's understanding of Muggle objects is both laughably shallow and full of wild ideas.

If judged by Murphy's formerly cynical nature, he would think the other party hopelessly stupid, unreasonable, a mere figurehead.

But now he only finds it quite fun, even dismantling his own television into pieces together with Arthur.

Suddenly, after a spatial distortion at the foot of the mountain, a man with pale gold long hair holding a staff appeared there.

Lucius arrived.

……

Lucius has never been to White Ferret Mountain, but a raven landed on him, allowing him to Phantom Shift; after he uttered the spell, he was sent here.

He looked around and found himself standing at the foot of a hillside.

Still unsure where to go, he heard a "ga" sound, looked up, and saw several ravens perched on a small tree nearby.

Only then did he notice that not just the tree, but the entire hillside before him was filled with ravens.

Most of them roamed casually over the grass, pecking at insects, but along both sides of the path up the hill, those black birds stood like guards, all staring at him with black eyes.

Lucius, uneasy, walked up the path under the ravens' gaze.

"Ga, Lucius!"

"Ga, idiot!"

"Ga, you're done."

Among these ravens, many could speak human words, and what they said plunged Lucius's mood into the abyss.

In the short ten‑plus‑minute journey, he felt as if he had climbed for a century; when he reached the courtyard, he was drenched in cold sweat, weak as if he would collapse at any moment.

The once clear sky had become overcast at an unknown time, growing chilly; the wind rose, making him feel sudden chills.

In that courtyard, Murphy sat on a high‑backed chair, looking down at himself climbing up the steps from the doorway.

"Lucius."

Murphy lazily leans against the chair back, one hand on the armrest, chin slightly raised, his half‑closed eyes catching a golden hue in the dimming light.

His voice is neither loud nor harsh; merely calling his name sounds like Si Shen's verdict.

Lucius feels a great disaster looming, as if a thousand‑pound stone hangs over his head; his legs give way and he kneels outright.

"Mur… master, master…"

Murphy sighs.

Had I known it would be like this, why start at all.

At first, he truly thought he could get along amicably with these so‑called Purebloods; at worst he could concede a bit of profit, after all his business is so huge that even a trickle from his fingertips would earn more than they ever did.

But human greed knows no bounds; they don't care how much benefit Murphy's arrival brings them, only that they are jealous of the big share Murphy takes.

Regarding these guys, Murphy now sees clearly that they truly believe in the jungle law of the strong preying on the weak; outwardly refined gentlemen, but at heart just like their ancestors who built fortunes—nothing but blood‑drinking bandits.

They despise the so‑called "civilization" and soft‑handed tactics, which only make them think you are weak and easy to bully.

There's only one way to deal with them.

Make them hurt, hurt to the bone, then put collars on them, tie reins, set rules, and use them as vicious dogs at hand.

"Lucius," Murphy says, looking at the man crouched at his feet, tone flat, "do you want to live or die?"

"I want to live! I want to live! Master, spare me, spare my life…"

After kneeling, the master kept shouting more fluently.

"Fine."

Murphy waves his hand, and a parchment scroll materializes before him; a feathered pen dipped in ink that looks like some animal's blood continuously writes on it, filling the whole scroll, which then falls in front of Lucius.

"If you want to live, use your blood to sign this contract."

Lucius's trembling hand picks up the scroll, finding it indeed a contract stipulating he must serve Murphy until the latter releases him from his obligations.

Its service clause summed up in one sentence: use any means necessary to ensure Murphy's orders are carried out unconditionally.

This is a slave contract; aside from not stating he can be bought or sold at will, Murphy can almost dictate all his actions, ordering him to do anything.

Just as he does with a house‑elf.

This is unconditional absolute loyalty.

In an instant, Lucius thought of La Xi Mu Sai Er Wen, thought of Barty Crouch; were they so loyal to Murphy because of such contracts?

This contract must include an incredibly powerful spell; he knows that once he signs, he will be bound, perhaps even his thoughts will be controlled by the other side.

In fact his guess is correct; this is Murphy's application derived from the Soul Seed contract model. He doesn't need to recite the Soul Seed Spell each time for a contractee; instead he embeds the Soul Seed Spell onto the parchment, and the written content becomes the contract's terms.

What to do?

Signing turns him into a complete slave, but not signing leads only to death.

Lucius is not a decisive person; faced with such a huge choice, he finds it impossible to decide at once.

But Murphy clearly doesn't have that much patience, saying, "You have only ten seconds to decide."

As he speaks, wind and thunder gather in the air, bolts of lightning crawl through the clouds, as if ready to strike at any moment.

"Ga! Idiot!"

"Ga! Fool!"

The crows, gloating, cackled around Lucius.

And the countdown, "Ga, eight!"

"Ga, six!"

"Three!"

"One!"

Crack— a bright bolt of lightning flashed in the sky, about to strike, Lucius bit his own finger, "I sign! I sign!"

He said, and on the contract wrote his name in blood.

After writing, Lucius lifted the contract, "Great Murphy! I, Lucius Malfoy, swear eternal loyalty to you!"

Suddenly, with a rumble, the lightning in the sky suddenly fell, but it did not hit Lucius; instead it sank into the contract, and the contract then dissipated in the electric fire.

Faintly, Lucius felt as if something had been etched onto his heart, as if his soul had been locked inside an iron cage, preventing him from acting freely.

"Get up, now let's discuss business."

"Lucius, you and Albert Runcorn are both Hogwarts School Governors, right?"

Double monthly ticket, huh—kill me with tickets~

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(End of chapter)