Hogwarts: From Selling White Peppers to Becoming a God

Chapter 1 Merlin's...

"Sorry, we're not hiring..."

"Sorry, we don't need any staff..."

"10 Outstanding Answers in OWL, 7 Outstanding Answers in NEWT... these results seem fake..."

"You're already working for the Ministry of Magic? And you're applying for a shop assistant position? Why?"

"This is succinate flavoring? Customers will consider this method of preparation unprofessional. Sorry, you can leave now."

"Your father is Sanders? That dark wizard? Get out of my shop!"

"No one is better at calculating than goblins, and Gringotts doesn't need presumptuous wizards!"

"The main job is cleaning up animal waste, and the daily wage is two Sickles..."

"A bartender? What's that? Does he put boogers in beer?"

……

"OMG Fuck!"

Stepping out of the Leaky Cauldron and standing on Charing Cross Road, Murphy couldn't help but swear.

Diagon Alley, the dog poop alley.

Dogshit wizard!

They're all a bunch of arrogant, stubborn, and unreasonable idiots!

call!

Murphy let out a long breath and calmed down a bit.

Finding a job in the wizarding world is fucking incredibly difficult!

Because of the existence of magic, Diagon Alley, as the most upscale shopping street in the UK and home to flagship stores of major chain brands, doesn't even have a decent job position.

After all, magic is so convenient that the shopkeeper can do most of the work by himself, without any need for employees.

Only places like potion shops, which require specialized skills, can recruit shop assistants.

But they didn't think much of Murphy's skills.

"The Muggle distillation method is clearly much more efficient than crucible distillation! And my White Dessert Essence is more than three times more effective than traditional refining methods!"

Gan!

Stubborn, brainless idiot!

Murphy quickened his pace while mentally cursing the blind shopkeeper.

The job interview I just did has already wasted too much time; I'm almost late for work.

Although I was extremely fed up with that job, at least I was still getting paid.

Moreover, he really didn't want to listen to that fat woman's sarcastic remarks anymore.

Damn FlooNet Management Bureau! If it weren't for their delay...

A screeching sound of brakes interrupted Murphy's mutterings, followed by a loud bang.

Murphy instinctively turned his head and saw a red Ferrari F40 struggling to stop, its body swaying. In front of the car, a small figure rolled many times on the ground before coming to a stop in front of Murphy.

"Ah!! Lisa!" a woman screamed and lunged at the figure on the ground.

A pale-faced man with a mohawk stepped out of the Ferrari.

"It's her, it's her who rushed out..."

car accident.

A Muggle-like car accident.

Murphy was also a little taken aback, glancing at the injured little girl.

One of her legs was bent at an odd angle, with broken bone fragments even protruding from the outside of her thigh, and blood gushing out.

"The artery has ruptured! Stop the bleeding!" a woman shouted.

She appeared to be a medical professional, and quickly pulled over a cloth to bandage the injured person, while instructing the girl's mother to press on the vein.

"I'm a nurse! Quick, call an ambulance! Can you help me? Hold this spot down..."

The nurse gave the order directly to Murphy, who was standing to the side. Murphy was taken aback for a moment, but did not object.

He took the towel handed to him by someone and pressed it against the wound as instructed, but blood continued to gush out, soaking the towel in no time.

"No! There are too many bleeding points; we can't stop it like this!"

The nurse said anxiously, but she didn't have many good solutions, so she could only ask Murphy to press harder.

"Is it enough to just stop the bleeding?" Murphy suddenly asked.

"Yes, with this amount of bleeding, if we don't stop the bleeding, the person might go into shock before the ambulance arrives. Do you have any ideas?"

Murphy said no more, threw away the blood-stained towel, took out a bottle of White Essence that he had made when he interviewed for a potions job in Diagon Alley, and poured it directly onto the wound.

He bought the raw materials for this fragrance, and naturally, he brought the finished product back with him.

A wisp of white smoke rose, and the horrific wound visibly and rapidly healed.

"What kind of medicine is this?" the nurse exclaimed in astonishment.

Murphy didn't answer, only saying, "This medicine can only heal her wounds, but it might cause tissue displacement..."

As he spoke, Murphy handed the remaining white cinnamon essence to the nurse. "Never mind, you can take the rest of the medicine too. Taking it directly can also help with internal injuries. If there is internal bleeding, you can try it in an emergency. Also, give her some drops after the surgery to prevent scarring during healing."

After saying that, Murphy wanted to leave immediately.

Compared to a life, a bottle of white sage essence is nothing, but he couldn't explain the problem with the medicine, so he decided to slip away as soon as possible.

"etc."

The Ferrari owner with the mohawk stopped Murphy.

"That medicine you just used... I've never seen a medicine with that kind of effect before..."

"Get out of my way." Murphy didn't have time for a Muggle rich kid.

"Wait, wait, I'm a director of Jelida Pharmaceuticals. My dad's the boss. If your drug..."

The mohawk man seemed very excited, and even grabbed Murphy's clothes.

"I said get out of here!"

The mohawk-haired man was startled by Murphy's gaze and hurriedly withdrew his hand, making a gesture of surrender.

After Murphy had walked a distance, he called out from behind:

"If you're selling your formula, contact me! We'll give you a lot of money..."

"Ha, Muggle." Murphy scoffed, not turning his head.

Selling potion recipes to Muggles?

Putting aside the issues of raw materials and refining, is the Wizarding Secrets Act just for show?

After walking another block, Murphy found the red phone booth.

After dialing 62442, a female voice came from the phone booth: "Name, reason for contact?"

"Murphy Darkholm. Time to get to work."

"Oh, poor lad, hasn't Belinda processed your employee permit yet?"

"Merlin's asshole? No!"

"Okay, please come in."

The floor sank, transforming into an elevator that took Murphy directly to the Ministry of Magic's main hall.

As soon as Murphy stepped out of the elevator, he saw a bald, short man emerge from the fireplace across the street, meticulously adjusting his robes while trying to stand on tiptoe to appear taller.

"Hey, shorty... cough, Dorf!" Murphy went up and patted the short man on the shoulder.

"It's Chief Dorf! Kid!"

"Has my application for the Firewall Floo Network been approved?" Murphy asked.

"It's in the process, what's the rush?"

"I have to walk three blocks to get to work every day, do you think I'm in a rush?"

"You can Apparate to work; I remember you have a license."

"My employee permit hasn't even been processed yet, and I've already Apparated..."

"That's illegal. Yes, I even helped draft that law, which was designed to strengthen the Ministry of Magic..."

"So, I only have FiluNet left," Murphy interrupted the other person's incessant chatter. "Where exactly is the application stuck? It's been a month!"

"Your fireplace is a problem, you know, because of your parents. It was deregistered before, and getting it reinstated requires a lot of paperwork..."

"How much longer?"

"Maybe a month, maybe two months, or if other things get busy, maybe three or four months..."

"Damn it!" Murphy couldn't help but swear.

"What?"

Murphy was speaking Chinese, so Dorf didn't understand.

"You son of a bitch! I'll fucking kill you! You shorty! You idiot! You pig who only eats and doesn't work!"

It's still in Chinese.

"Are you insulting me?"

Murphy turned and left, not wanting to stay by the short man's side for even a second longer.

Holy crap!

Ever since graduating from Hogwarts and entering the Ministry of Magic, Murphy's temper has worsened day by day, making him like a grumpy porcupine. Just now, he almost lost control of his anger, wishing he could slap that ugly face that seemed to have goblin blood.

"Phew, calm down, calm down..."

Wizards are all fools, wizards are all fools...

Forgive them.

With their sardine-like brains, just surviving is already difficult enough.

Generous, generous.

After some mental preparation, Murphy regained some of his composure.

Turning my head, I saw another person.

"Director Scrimgeour!"

I just realized a few words in this chapter title have been censored. I'll just add some back, otherwise it looks a bit odd.

(End of this chapter)