The moment Alex mentioned it again, Claremont's smile faltered for just a second. He watched the boy walk out the door, then finally let out a long breath, as if he'd been holding it the whole time. Only then did he notice the cold sweat soaking the back of his robes.
"I didn't expect Alex to look so young yet carry such a heavy presence," he muttered to himself. The pressure had been suffocating. He sighed deeply and sank into the sofa, trying to gather his thoughts.
After a while, something seemed to pop into his mind. He reached up, unclipped the griffin-shaped badge from his chest, and turned it over in his palm.
Of everything that had happened during the meeting, this badge was the one thing that brought him a bit of comfort. It wasn't just powerful, it was beautifully made, with fine craftsmanship that gleamed under the light. From the feel of it, Claremont guessed it was forged entirely from mithril.
"No wonder Alex's company is doing so well," Claremont mused. "The stuff from Wilson's Arcane Alchemica really is top-notch."
He'd heard plenty of rumors about people trying to copy Alex's products, but no one had managed to come close. The workmanship was too consistent, and all the gear used the newest spell optimizations. Replicating that wasn't just hard, it was practically impossible.
"Honestly, this isn't even a loss," Claremont reassured himself. "At this rate, no similar product will catch up in the next five years. Wilson Alchemica will still be on top. If things go smoothly, I'll probably earn back everything I spent in just a year or two."
He leaned back and let out a slow breath, feeling a bit more confident as he looked down at the gleaming badge in his hand.
After wrapping up the negotiations, Alex returned straight to his residence and went directly to the monitoring room, where Fang was already stationed. "How's everything going? Is the signal still stable?" Alex asked the moment he stepped inside.
"Crystal clear," Fang replied with a nod. "But you should see the old guy, he's been staring at that badge like it's his long-lost lover. Honestly, it's getting a little creepy." He chuckled and pointed at one of the monitors.
On the screen, Claremont's face was practically pressed up against the surveillance feed, eyes locked onto the badge in his hands like it held the secrets of the universe. "Good," Alex said with a calm smile. "Did he say anything interesting after I left?"
Fang leaned back in his chair. "At first, he was grumbling about you. Said you were arrogant, too sharp for your age… but after a bit, he started praising you. Said you were clever and that your company's products were first-rate. Honestly, I think the old man's brain's in a bit of a spin."
He smirked, then looked at Alex. "I'll keep an eye on everything, where he goes, what he does, what he says, and what he sees.
That badge seems to be his new favorite thing, so unless something big happens, he'll probably keep it on him at all times. I'll let you know the moment something changes."
The so-called "Guardian Badge" Alex had gifted Claremont wasn't just a flashy accessory, it was a carefully modified tracking device. In just one day, Alex had embedded it with a monitoring spider and reinforced it using rare and valuable magical materials.
It served as a perfect pair of eyes and ears, disguised as a high-quality token of goodwill. No wonder it fit Claremont so perfectly, it was made for him. After quickly walking Fang through the badge's functions again, Alex left the monitoring room and made his way to the laboratory next door.
There, he buried himself in preparations for the upcoming raid on the breeding base. He spent hours brewing specialized potions designed to neutralize dangerous magical creatures, checking over every ingredient and refining each formula until it met his standards.
At the same time, he began organizing the magical equipment they'd need, double-checking every item to make sure it would pass inspection, just in case someone from the Ministry decided to look into things later.
Back on the other end of the surveillance feed, Claremont was still toying with the badge long after Alex had left. Fang, who had to sit there and watch him play it over and over, was beginning to lose his patience.
"If I have to see this old man fondle that badge one more time, I swear I'll lose it," he muttered under his breath. Still, he kept watching.
Just after nightfall, Claremont finally fastened the badge to his robes and vanished from Dudden House with a sharp crack of Apparition. But instead of heading home or returning to the breeding base, Claremont reappeared in a quiet suburb on the outskirts of Berlin. Unlike most suburbs that felt deserted after dark, this place was different.
At its center stood what looked like an abandoned manor, worn and crumbling from the outside. But as Claremont approached, the air shimmered faintly, the entire area was protected by layered magical wards. And hidden inside, past the illusion, was a thriving open-air black market, not unlike the ones found in Egypt.
It was clear Claremont had been here many times before. He greeted a few guards with casual familiarity, then navigated through the bustling stalls and narrow paths without hesitation.
Merchants hawked all kinds of magical items, some legal, some definitely not, but Claremont didn't stop for any of it. He headed straight to a building tucked in the back of the market, climbed the stairs to the second floor, and entered an office that looked strikingly similar to the one back at the breeding base.
Claremont decided it was best to report the cooperation with Wilson's Arcane Alchemica Company to the higher-ups as soon as possible. The last thing he needed was a sleepless night haunted by anxiety, especially if Alex's powerful backer decided to suddenly pull out of the deal.
That kind of surprise would be a nightmare to clean up. With a tired sigh, he stepped into his office, walked over to the cabinet, and poured himself a glass of wine. Taking a slow sip, he muttered his worries under his breath, then set the glass aside and made his way to the bookshelf behind his desk.
From the second shelf near the bottom, he pulled out a worn, unremarkable copy of A History of Magic. As soon as the book was removed, the bookshelf slid to the side with a soft creak, revealing a concealed wall behind it.
Claremont drew his wand and tapped a specific pattern on the stone. A moment later, a narrow gap silently opened in the wall, just wide enough for one person to slip through. On the other side was a dark, hidden chamber, no more than seven or eight square meters in size.