Bang!
Mundungus slammed his hand onto the iron table, his face full of frustration.
What kind of life had he been living for the past month?
Terrified, on edge; every morning at the crack of dawn, he was woken up by the sound of people using the toilet. If anyone got up in the middle of the night, his rest was completely disturbed.
However, not only could he not lose his temper, but after everyone else had used the toilet, he had to obediently grab a cloth, scrub it clean, wash his hands, help the cell head fold his clothes, and roll the cigarettes for them while they ate.
After everyone had finished breakfast, the leftover, cold, tasteless food without oil or salt was all that was left for him.
While the other prisoners might share a little canned food, by the time it reached him, the cans had already been dunked in broth, and there wasn't a single morsel of meat left to be seen.
That wasn't all. Before bed, he had to help the cell head stretch his muscles and tend to him. Only after sweating half his body out could he finally lie down on his dark, damp bed and sleep.
Even the lowest-ranked prisoner dared to mock him while he was sweeping the floor. All of this came from the special treatment he received when he was first imprisoned.
Originally, the prison was divided into three levels, but after he arrived, it quickly turned into four. Mundungus, on his own, had caused those others to be promoted a level.
So, after all this special treatment, Mundungus thought that it would be perfectly reasonable to take all of the prisoners' savings before he left. After all, considering the labor he had put in, the savings of these people didn't even compare to his wages.
However, what Mundungus didn't expect was that, after using his years of thieving experience to search through every corner of the prison for hidden stashes, the total amount he found was only 9 sickles and 15 knuts!!!
Not even a full galleon!!!
This tiny amount made Mundungus so furious that he was beside himself.
These poor fools ate and drank to their hearts' content every day, their chocolate and cigarettes never running out, and yet this was all they had saved?
No way, I can't just leave like this. I'm going to eat all their chocolate, throw all their tobacco in the toilet, and scribble all over their papers! I'll even use their blankets as toilets!!!
Countless thoughts of revenge filled Mundungus's mind, especially against that guy named William, who seemed all innocent but was actually full of malice; he was the one who looked like a decent person, but in reality, had nothing human about him!
Without hesitation, Mundungus marched towards William's bed, his anger overwhelming him. He undid his belt.
Just then, the cell door was swung open.
Everyone in the cell, without exception, was watching him, smiling.
The big guy was at the front, his knuckles cracking repeatedly.
"Hey, isn't this our new guy?"
The big guy took a few steps forward, pressing his hand down on Mundungus's shoulder and looking down at him. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Heh heh, heh heh…"
Mundungus grinned foolishly as his mind worked quickly. A thought flashed into his mind like lightning.
"Well, you know, this morning, the story got me a little riled up, and there were too many people around, so I felt embarrassed not to…"
He flashed a shy smile, shaking his body as he hid the money even deeper. At that moment, he was extremely thankful that he hadn't found more money, nor had the chance to take any further action.
"Pfft—"
A deep sound came from between the big guy's teeth in response, and he turned to look at Nine-Fingers.
"What's the big deal about calling everyone over secretly? This kid's sentence is long, what's he going to cause trouble for? Nine-Fingers, let him have a look at it himself."
Everyone else also felt it was pointless, so they started to disperse. Just as they had taken a few steps, the big guy suddenly turned back and looked at Mundungus.
Mundungus's heart, which had just managed to calm down, immediately started to tremble.
"Take it easy, don't provoke those black cloaks—this isn't without precedent. Those guys are hungry today."
"Yes, yes, yes, I'll be careful." Mundungus nodded repeatedly like a chicken pecking at rice, thinking quickly to get the situation over with. The guards had already sent out an owl, and Mad-Eye Moody would be coming today. If those guys surrounded him before Moody arrived, getting a beating would be pointless.
He wasn't worried about whether Moody would help him, but he certainly didn't have the nerve to ask for it.
Forget it, no more revenge. Although everyone thought his sentence was long and wouldn't dare cause trouble, the guy who switched beds with him wasn't a good person. From the moment the morning shift started, that guy had probably been watching him. He couldn't afford to lose this small advantage.
With that in mind, he simply headed towards the prison door; he didn't want to smell the atmosphere of Azkaban for even a second longer.
"What are you in such a rush for?"
The voice of Nine Fingers stopped him, and a piece of paper was thrown at him.
"Be careful with it. If you dirty it, I'll beat you for a week!"
Nine Fingers threatened, then quickly walked out of the cell, still reminding him, "I'll close the door for you, but take care. If you really attract the Dementors, I don't think you'll want that paper when you're in Azkaban."
Tch!
Who cares about that! I'm not like you guys—I have connections. I've made contact. Tonight, I won't be watching the moon by the sea breeze. I'll be at old Tom's tavern drinking my fill. I'll make you poor fools who have no cigarettes, no alcohol, and no chocolate jealous!
Mundungus cursed bitterly but didn't let go of the piece of paper in his hand.
Going out rashly would only draw the attention of the other prisoners in the same cell, and that wouldn't be good for someone like him, who was about to be released. Even if Mad-Eye Moody helped him beat those guys up, did he think the beating would be any lighter?
Acting was the way to go.
He simply lay down on his bed, unfolded the paper, and pretended to read it for the others to see.
***
Just at that moment, the prison door opened again.
I knew those bastards weren't good people. They wouldn't let me go easily. Fortunately, I'm clever, pretending like this.
Mundungus forced a panicked expression on his face and looked at the new arrival, but in that instant, the expression became real.
At the door of the cell, there appeared a face that looked almost stitched together. Every feature of this face was missing something, as though God had deliberately left it incomplete. But Mundungus knew very well that every wound on this face had been caused by a top-level dark wizard, almost impossible to heal.
And the owner of this face had provided many tenants for the prison beneath his feet.
Mundungus had wanted to escape this prison, and half of his chance had been thanks to his relationship with the owner of this face.
But now, this was exactly the face he least wanted to see.
The uneven eyes of the face stared at him closely, and the joy of a reunion and the awkward helplessness were entirely replaced by another expression.
The large, round magical eye, like a coin, was fixed on the paper in Mundungus's hand; this magic eye had many uses, one of which was to see through certain things.
"Good afternoon, Fletcher—looks like you're doing pretty well?"
…
Far away, William suddenly received a prompt:
[A magical creature has recognized you more deeply, and you have earned a treasure chest.]