Chapter 1248: The Informant Merchant (2)

A lean middle-aged Black man sat behind a low wooden table, with a long pipe clamped between his lips, squinting at Ian as he entered. He wore a flamboyant suit, though the fabric was old, and several exaggerated rings, seemingly emitting magic fluctuations, adorned his fingers.

“What do you need?” The man blew out a ring of smoke, his voice hoarse and heavily accented, speaking English. This sharp discernment certainly belonged to a qualified intelligence merchant.

Ian sat down on the cushion opposite him, smiling slightly.

“I’m looking to inquire about something.”

This was straight to the point.

The man glanced Ian up and down, shaking his head: “You have some dangerously familiar feelings about you. I don’t know who you are, so I choose not to do business with strangers.”

“Leave.”

His tone was indifferent, laced with an indisputable flavor.

Ian was not discouraged and maintained his smile: “A few words exchanged, and we are no longer strangers, aren’t we? I can pay the consultation fee upfront.”

He intentionally took out a small money bag, filled with several silver coins from other worlds, which appeared to be in decent condition. He had previously used magic to alter their appearance to conform to this era.

Baboua glanced at the money bag, his eyes flickering, but immediately shook his head decisively, his tone more unfriendly: “Can’t you understand? Leave. Or…”

He raised his hand holding the pipe, with the other hand seemingly casually placed on the table, yet his index finger slightly raised, aimed at Ian. A weak but malicious magic fluctuation began to gather — a silent threat spell, typically used to make unruly customers feel slightly uncomfortable and thereby retreat.

The smile on Ian’s face vanished.

He sighed, seeming somewhat regretful: “What a shame, I intended for a civilized transaction.”

Before the words were finished, Ian merely lifted his eyelids and casually glanced at Baboua. In an instant, an invisible magic fluctuation spread — a Magic Seal Technique.

No incantation, no gestures. Yet Baboua suddenly stiffened, a look of terror flashing on his face! He felt the magic flowing through his body instantly freeze, obstructed as if firmly locked by invisible shackles! He tried to mobilize magic to resist, but it was as futile as an ant trying to topple a tree.

The inscrutable force suppressed him to the point where even breathing became difficult, and those rings gleaming with faint light on his fingers dimmed instantly. It was an advanced restriction magic blessed by the Sun God, capable of severing the connection between the target and the source of magic power in an instant. The merchant’s inner magic was like a river frozen solid, completely stagnant.

“You… you…” Baboua’s voice trembled violently, cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

Even when the pipe fell from his mouth onto the table did he remain wholly unaware.

Only now did he truly realize that the seemingly ordinary stranger before him was definitely one of the most unfathomable wizards he had ever encountered in his life!

His petty tricks were likely child’s play in the eyes of the opposite party.

He had lived forty years, never witnessing such precise and formidable mental suppression. The opposing party didn’t even use a spell or make a move; just one look reduced all his reliance to ruin.

Ian calmly watched him, his voice still gentle but carrying indisputable authority: “Now, can we properly discuss business? I like fair transactions and can pay the price. But I don’t like being threatened.”

Baboua, perspiring profusely, nodded hastily, his tone becoming incredibly respectful: “Of course! Honorable sir! Just… just now, it was my fault! I have eyes but failed to see! What do you want to inquire about? Baboua will certainly speak openly!”

He hastily brushed aside the pipe from the table and wiped the surface with his sleeve.

As an intelligence merchant, he knew more than most wizards, and for this reason, he recognized encountering a genuine hardball — not an ordinary wizard.

But rather one who walks among legendary presences.

“This is much better. It’s this kind of feeling; I prefer civilized communication.” Ian placed the small money bag on the table and pushed it over.

“Start with that.”

He nodded slightly toward the direction of the announcement board outside the tent, “The International Wizarding Federation’s announcement, concerning smuggling. What’s it about? Why is the African Ministry of Magic so tense?”

Baboua cautiously picked up the money bag, not even glancing before putting it into his pocket, then lowered his voice to say: “Sir, you’ve asked the right person! Indeed, I know some things about that.”

He licked his lips, leaning forward, “The Federation and our local Ministry of Magic have indeed been keeping a close watch. It’s said they’re guarding against a… super troublesome smuggler.”

“Oh? Super troublesome?” Ian cooperatively asked.

“Yes!” Baboua nodded vigorously, “It’s said to be a white man, seemingly gentle, but incredibly formidable! Especially skilled in dealing with those dangerous magic creatures, it’s rumored he has a mysterious suitcase capable of accommodating an entire zoo! Many want to acquire that suitcase but later those people disappeared.”

“I reckon they became food for those fantastic beasts inside; believe me, the man is no benign character.” Ahbaku swallowed, seeing Ian indicating he started detailed narration.

“He appeared a month ago in the Lualaba Province, carrying a huge brown leather suitcase. Local witch doctors mentioned the suitcase contained a ‘living storm’ and ‘flying snakes’.”

“He attempted to trade rare herbs and a bottle of ‘Phoenix Tear’ for access to the ‘Holy Rainforest’ but was refused by the elders because the Federation had already issued a ban.”