Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Merlin's Arsehole
"Sorry, we are not hiring..."
"Sorry, we don't need a clerk..."
"Ten O.W.L.s, seven O's in N.E.W.T.s... These results look fake..."
"You already work for the Ministry of Magic? Are you still applying for a clerk position? Why?"
"Is this white essence of dittany? This refining method will be considered unprofessional by customers. Sorry, you can leave."
"Is your father Silas? The dark wizard? Get out of my shop!"
"No one is better at calculating than goblins. Gringotts doesn't need smart wizards!"
"The main job of this position is to clean up animal dung, and the daily salary is two Sickles..."
"Bartender? What is that? Mix firewhiskey in butterbeer?"
...
"Bloody hell!"
Walking out of the Leaky Cauldron and standing on Charing Cross Road, Michael couldn't help but curse.
Damn Diagon Alley!
Damn wizards!
They are all a bunch of arrogant, stubborn, unreasonable idiots!
Huh!
After a long sigh, Michael calmed down a little.
It is so damn hard to find a job in the wizarding world!
Because of the existence of magic, Diagon Alley, as the most upscale commercial street in the UK, where the flagship stores of major chain brands are clustered, does not even have decent positions.
After all, magic is so convenient that the owner can complete most of the work alone, and there is no need to hire people.
Only places like potion shops that require professional skills can recruit shop assistants.
But people look down on Michael's skills.
"It is obvious that the Muggle distillation method is much more efficient than the cauldron! And the effect of my white essence of dittany is more than three times that of the traditional refining method!"
Bloody hell!
Stubborn brainless idiot!
While cursing the blind shopkeeper in his mind, Michael quickened his pace.
He had wasted too much time on the job search just now, and he was almost late for work.
Although he was extremely tired of the job, at least he was still getting paid.
Besides, he really didn't want to continue listening to the fat woman's sarcasm.
Damn the Floo Network Authority! If it weren't for their delay...
"Squeak--" A harsh brake sound interrupted Michael's mumbling in his mind, followed by a "bang".
Michael turned his head subconsciously, and saw a red Ferrari F40 swinging its body to a difficult stop, and in front of the front of the car, a small figure rolled on the ground for many circles and stopped in front of Michael.
"Ah! Lisa!" A woman screamed and rushed towards the figure on the ground.
And a pale-faced Mohawk-haired man also got off the Ferrari.
"It's her, it's her who rushed out..."
Car accident.
A Muggle car accident.
Michael was also a little shocked and took a look at the injured little girl.
One of her legs was bent at a strange angle, and there was even a broken bone on the outside of her thigh, and blood was gushing out.
"The artery is severed! Stop the bleeding!" a woman shouted.
She seemed to be a medical staff. She quickly pulled a cloth towel to bandage the injured and told the girl's mother to press the blood vessels.
"I'm a nurse, hurry up, call an ambulance! You, come and help! Press here first..."
The nurse directly ordered Michael, who was standing aside. The latter was stunned for a moment, but did not object.
He took the towel handed by someone and pressed it on the wound as instructed, but the blood still gushed out and soaked the towel in a short while.
"No! There are too many bleeding points. It can't be stopped like this!"
The female nurse said anxiously, but there were not many good ways. She could only ask Michael to press harder.
"Is it enough to just stop the bleeding?" Michael suddenly asked.
"Yes, with this amount of bleeding, if the bleeding is not stopped, the person may not be able to wait for the ambulance to come, and he will go into shock. What can you do?"
Michael said no more, threw away the blood-stained towel, took out a bottle of white essence of dittany made when he was interviewing for a potion shop clerk in Diagon Alley, and poured it directly on the wound.
He bought the raw materials of this bottle of essence, and naturally let him bring back the finished product.
A wisp of white smoke rose, and the horrible wound healed rapidly, visible to the naked eye.
"What kind of medicine is this?" The nurse was stunned.
Michael didn't answer, but just said: "This medicine can only heal her wound, but it may cause tissue dislocation..."
As he said that, Michael handed the remaining white essence of dittany to the nurse, "Forget it, take the rest of the medicine. If you take it directly, it will also be useful for internal injuries. If there is internal bleeding, you can also try it if the situation is urgent. Also, give her some drops after the operation to avoid scars when healing."
After speaking, Michael wanted to leave directly.
Compared to a life, a bottle of white essence of dittany is nothing, but he couldn't explain the problem of this medicine, so he slipped away as soon as possible.
"Wait."
The owner of the Ferrari with a Mohawk stopped Michael.
"You, the medicine just now, I have never seen a medicine with such an effect..."
"Go away." Michael didn't have time to care about a Muggle rich second generation.
"Wait, wait, I'm the director of Jielida Pharmaceuticals, my father is the boss, if your medicine..."
The Mohawk man looked very excited, and even grabbed Michael's clothes.
"I said get out of here!"
The Mohawk was frightened by Michael's eyes, and hurriedly retracted his hand, making a surrender gesture.
After Michael walked away, he shouted from behind:
"If you sell your formula, contact me! We will give you a lot of money..."
"Heh, Muggle." Michael sneered and turned his head away.
Selling potion formulas to Muggles?
Let's not talk about the issue of raw materials and refining. Is the "International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy" a decoration?
After walking another block on foot, Michael found the red telephone booth.
After dialing 62442, a female voice sounded in the phone booth: "Name, reason?"
"Michael Darkholme. Going to work."
"Oh, poor boy, Belinda hasn't gotten your employee permit yet?"
"Merlin's beard, no!"
"Okay, come in."
The floor sank and turned into an elevator, sending Michael straight to the lobby of the Ministry of Magic.
As soon as Michael got out of the elevator, he saw a bald dwarf coming out of the fireplace opposite, tidying up his robes in a serious manner, while trying to tiptoe to make himself look taller.
"Hey, dwarf... cough, Dolph!" Michael went up and patted the dwarf on the shoulder.
"It's Director Dolph! Boy!"
"Did my fireplace's Floo Network application pass?" Michael asked.
"We are going through the process. Why are you in such a hurry?"
"I have to walk three blocks to work every day. Do you think I am in a hurry?"
"You can Apparate to work. I remember you have a license."
"I haven't got my employee permit yet. You Apparate directly..."
"It's illegal. Yes, I participated in the formulation of that law, which is aimed at strengthening the Ministry of Magic..."
"So, I only have the Floo Network," Michael interrupted the other party's chattering, "Where is the application stuck? It's been a month!"
"Your fireplace is very troublesome, you know, because of your parents. This fireplace was removed from the list before. If you want to restore the registration, you need a lot of procedures..."
"How long will it take?"
"Maybe one month, maybe two months, maybe three or four months if I get busy with other things..."
"Bloody hell!" Michael couldn't help but swear.
"What?"
Michael used a Muggle swear word, so Dolph didn't understand.
"Damn you! Damn you, you idiot! You shorty! Stupid! You pig
Here is the continuation of the chapter:
who only eats and doesn't work!"
Still using Muggle curses and insults that Dolph didn't comprehend.
"You seem to be scolding me?"
Michael turned and left, not wanting to stay with this dwarfish wizard for another moment.
Damn him!
Since graduating from Hogwarts and entering the Ministry of Magic, Michael's temper has been getting worse day by day, and he was like a grumpy hedgehog. Just now, he could hardly control his anger and wanted to hex the ugly goblin-like face.
"Breathe, calm down, calm down..."
Wizards are all idiots, wizards are all idiots...
Forgive them.
With their brains like puffskeins, it is not easy for them to live.
Be generous, be generous.
After some psychological preparation, Michael regained some of his composure.
He turned around and saw another person.
"Director Scrimgeour!"
(End of chapter continuation)
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