Chapter 1247 402: Intelligence Broker

Ian stood at the entrance of the African Wizard Market.

The night wind carried the scent of dust and herbs across his face, and his gaze lingered on the "International Wizarding Federation Notice" for a long time.

Mid-twentieth century.

Beware of cross-border illegal magical item smuggling.

These few keywords swirled in his mind, gradually connecting with a name.

"Newt Scamander..." Ian muttered to himself, unable to suppress a slight smile.

The famous Fantastic Beasts Expert, the gentle gentleman with a briefcase full of an entire zoo, indeed had a "record" that gave many countries a headache. The eccentric, kind-hearted British Ministry of Magic employee, expelled for researching prohibited magical creatures, later became the author of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."

To protect and rescue those magical creatures, Professor Newt had quite a history of cross-border "smuggling" activities, causing not a small stir even in Paris. For this reason, it's hard not to suspect that the International Wizarding Federation's notice is yet another attempt to stop this gentleman's charitable actions.

Newt's briefcase.

It's the Wizarding World's nuclear deterrent.

He is renowned for that magic briefcase filled with exotic creatures.

The International Wizarding Federation clearly only sees the "illegal transportation of rare species" on the surface, overlooking Newt's initial intention to protect them.

They are more concerned with order than with life.

But for Ian, this notice was a golden opportunity.

If Newt really is active in this area, he not only possesses a large amount of rare magical materials, but also holds secret pathways to places all over the world. More importantly, although Newt himself is not a combat wizard, his deep understanding of magical creatures and achievements in alchemy are notable.

"If I can make contact with him here..." Ian thought, "perhaps I can not only find materials but also gain unexpected support."

Thinking of this, Ian became more intent on the information behind the notice.

If Newt is really active in Africa at this time, he might be able to find lots of important resources through him, or at least get an understanding of the current situation in Europe.

With this thought, Ian made a decision.

He decided to find someplace to gather more information first. Just like in Diagon Alley, information should flow just as readily as goods in this bustling and rough underground market.

"Where people gather, there will be places for exchanging information, and these places are generally equated with alcohol." Ian left the bulletin board and continued weaving through the crowded stalls. His gaze swept past the vendors selling all kinds of products and finally locked onto a relatively quiet corner at the edge of the market.

He adjusted his robes.

And walked into a tavern deep within the market.

This wasn't the "Three Brooms" next to Hogwarts but a tent made of giant beast bones. Firefly sacs hung from the ceiling, beast bones and battle axes were embedded in the walls, and the air was filled with the mixed scent of fermented palm wine, grilled meat, and gunpowder smoke. Wizards sat around mud tables, some talking softly, others polishing weapons, some gambling with spell-based stakes.

Ian found a corner to sit in and ordered a cup of palm wine. The liquid was murky, the taste spicy and throat-burning, far less palatable than Butter Beer, but he needed to blend into the surroundings.

He strained his ears to listen to the conversations around him.

"I heard warlords up north captured a group of Muggles again, planning to sell them to Europeans for experiments."

"Heh, as long as they pay enough, I can turn them all into zombies."

"The Federation's inspections have been strict recently, a batch of 'Cursed Bullets' is stuck at the border, a new route is needed."

"A white wizard with a big suitcase was seen upstream of the Congo River... claimed to be looking for a 'Thunderbird.' " Information of all sorts was mixed into their discussions.

There was information that piqued Ian's interest, his heart skipped. A white wizard, a big suitcase, upstream of the Congo River – wasn't this a typical description of Newt?

He continued listening, finally catching a key name: "Shadow Merchant Baboua—only he can get cross-border transit permits and figure out the Federation's patrol routes."

From the memory of the person who mentioned this, Ian also gleaned information about this information broker, so Ian silently stood up and walked towards where the information pointed.

Leaving the bar.

He didn't walk far.

There was a small tent made with animal hides and wooden poles, with a simple wooden sign hanging at the entrance, crookedly written in English and several African languages: "Information Consultation·Cautious Talk." Beaded curtains hung at the tent's entrance, and a faint figure was visible inside, speaking softly with a customer.

"This is the place."

Ian paused beside a nearby food stall, ordered a cup of strange-tasting but invigorating local herbal tea, pretending to savor it, while actually patiently observing the tent. After a while, the beaded curtain was lifted, and a hooded wizard hurriedly exited, quickly disappearing into the crowd. The tent then fell silent.

"The time is right." Ian put down the teacup, adjusted his robe, making himself look more like a typical traveling wizard, perhaps from North Africa or the Middle East.

Then he stepped towards the tent.

He lifted the beaded curtain and walked inside. The tent's interior was smaller than it appeared from the outside, filled with a strong mix of tobacco and unfamiliar spices.