49: Wolfsbane Potion and Transaction

49: Wolfsbane Potion and Transaction

Inside the Belby Estate, a structure resembling a Roman coliseum stood.

In the middle, there was a sturdy iron cage. The moonlight gradually peeked through the clouds.

Tonight was a full moon, and the man inside the cage was in excruciating pain.

He was curled up in the cage, his body convulsing as hair rapidly grew all over him.

"Look at this pitiful hideous creature. They are neither wolf nor human."

Damocles Belby held an ornate cane in his hand, and beside him, a quill was automatically recording his every word.

"The transformation process takes about half a minute. You are about to witness a historic moment."

Damocles's tone carried a hint of excitement. The development of the Wolfsbane Potion would be a monumental breakthrough.

He no longer sought wealth. As a master of potions, he was not lacking in money. He pursued fame.

If the Wolfsbane Potion succeeded, he would at least receive a second-class Order of Merlin.

This was an honor for a wizard and a scholar's aspiration.

John was the first witness to this clinical trial, indicating that Damocles already regarded him as an equal.

"Using the highly toxic wolfsbane as an ingredient, what a genius idea. Throughout history, every potions master who handled wolfsbane shied away from its toxicity."

His haughty words were all praises, calling it a genius idea.

The key lay in the dosage.

After causing partial paralysis in two werewolves and turning three into vegetables during experiments, that delicate balance was as elusive as a Golden Snitch.

John had been the one to pinpoint the crucial factor for him. Otherwise, there would likely be several werewolf corpses buried beneath the estate by now.

This wasn't particularly difficult for John, who had the keen sensitivity of a dragon's tongue and a subtle magical intuition that allowed him to discern the toxicity of a potion with his fingers.

Half a minute passed, and under their witness, the man who had been bitten by a werewolf for a year fully transformed into a bipedal werewolf. However, he seemed a bit dazed at first.

Damocles Belby tapped his cane on the iron cage and shouted, "Shelby, can you understand me?"

At first, the werewolf appeared confused, but as a few minutes passed, clarity returned to his eyes, free of the usual feral and violent cloudiness of a transformed werewolf.

He nodded, pointing to his mouth and laboriously uttering a single word, "Yes."

The Wolfsbane Potion had succeeded.

Damocles couldn't help but cheer, and John smiled too, though he still needed further confirmation.

The full moon continued, and the two kept observing Shelby. As the moon in the sky disappeared, Shelby began to revert from his werewolf state, gradually returning to his original form.

"It's a success."

Shelby had not displayed any irrational behavior throughout the night, signifying the success of the Wolfsbane Potion. John clenched his fist in triumph, while Damocles stripped off his clothes and ran naked through the manor in celebration.

John brought a set of clothes for Shelby and extended his hand with a smile, "Would you be interested in a job? One hundred Galleons a month."

John needed a reliable bodyguard for his shop in Knockturn Alley, and Shelby seemed like the perfect candidate.

Gray-blue eyes set in deep sockets, with hollowed cheeks giving him a wolf-like appearance. Under his gaze, there was an oppressive feeling of scrutiny. This demeanor was related to Shelby's previous occupation—he had been an Auror. Bitten by a werewolf during a mission, he lost his job and wandered, his life drastically changing, leaving him gaunt and weary.

Hearing John's offer, Shelby was incredulous. "I would be grateful for this job."

Though the pay was less than that of an Auror, for a werewolf, it was a high salary. This further solidified John's position as a boss in Shelby's mind; he didn't underestimate John because of his age.

John extended his hand with a smile, "John Wick. But I'd prefer you call me Johnny Silverhand at the shop. The guy running it is a thief; you can keep an eye on him."

Shelby shook John's hand, a smile breaking through his gloomy face. "Tommy Shelby. I think that's something I'm good at."

The two agreed to work together smoothly. Meanwhile, Damocles, after his celebratory run, also found working with John pleasant. Although he wished to monopolize the credit, John's contribution was too significant to ignore.

John shook his head, declining any claim. He smiled and said, "Damocles, developing the potion alone highlights the struggle and legend more. Two people might get two second-class medals, but one person could earn a first-class medal."

Damocles was tempted—who could refuse a first-class medal?

He watched John, trying to discern the conditions.

"I want exclusive selling rights for the Wolfsbane Potion. In return, I'm willing to give you a fifty percent share."

In exchange for letting Damocles have the sole glory, John wanted to leverage the Wolfsbane Potion to expand his shop.

Damocles declined; he had no desire for money, having more than enough for several lifetimes. "No need for a share. You know the potion's recipe; you can have it all."

This made John even happier. The wealth of a potions master was truly enviable. Although the initial profits might not be substantial, the long-term gains were promising.

Damocles' indifference to money left John in awe.

Ultimately, they reached an agreement: John obtained exclusive rights to the Wolfsbane Potion, and Damocles received the honor of its development.

With John's involvement, the Wolfsbane Potion would be significantly improved.

It could truly be considered a blessing for werewolves.

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