Hogwarts: From Selling White Peppers to Becoming a God

Chapter 2 Pest Consultation Office

Rufus Scrimgeour.

Director of the Auror Office.

"Murphy." The other person saw him too, but kept walking.

Murphy stepped forward to walk alongside him. "Director Scrimgeour, what do you think about joining the Auror that I mentioned to you last time?"

If he had to work for the Ministry of Magic, Murphy would actually prefer to become a Silence, as the ability to study the nature of magic would be very appealing to him.

However, being a mutist is usually a lifelong commitment; becoming a mutist essentially means being disconnected from the world.

Secondly, the Auror class is also quite good. As frontline combatants, they not only have high salaries but also enjoy a very exciting experience.

It's much better than my current job, no matter what.

Scrimgeour walked with a brisk pace, and even as he spoke, his face remained tense, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

"I've looked at your school grades, they're excellent. Your aptitude test results are also good, and you're very skilled in using spells, but you can't become an Auror."

Why?

Murphy's eyes widened; he had already been rejected far too many times today.

"You failed the personality test. You are too impulsive, adventurous, and lack obedience. More importantly, we have discovered that you are full of prejudice and dissatisfaction with the magical world."

"What? I..."

Scrimgeour suddenly stopped and looked at him. "And you failed your background check. Your parents are dark wizards, and my analyst told me that it's probably because of their influence that there are so many dangerous elements in your personality."

Murphy was speechless for a moment.

"What we need are loyal warriors. The Auror office is not for you. Go do what you're supposed to do."

Scringer said, patted Murphy on the shoulder, and was about to leave.

"You mean you're suggesting that those idiots give advice on how to wipe out goblins?" Murphy couldn't help but retort.

Scrimgeour turned around and gave him a deep look. "You'd better watch yourself."

Background check.

Gan!

It's this again!

His previous application to become a silent person was also rejected due to a background check.

The son of a dark wizard clearly does not meet the requirements for holding a position in an important department of the Ministry of Magic.

Yes, his parents were dark wizards.

Sanders Darkholm and Natalie Darkholm, a pair of idiots who fantasize about following the Dark Lord to restore their family's glory.

Six years ago, Voldemort fell from power, and they successfully landed themselves in Azkaban.

And he died there about three or four years ago.

They also failed to leave Murphy any legacy.

The Darkholm family was already impoverished by Sanders' generation. After their deaths, all Murphy inherited was a dilapidated, drafty old house and a debt of about a few hundred gallons.

Fortunately, most of Sanders' creditors were in Azkaban, so no one came to collect the debts from Murphy.

Murphy has never complained about his background.

After all, as a time traveler, his parents were probably just a background introduction to him.

orphan?

Who isn't an orphan among those who transmigrate?

poverty?

Isn't this the perfect start for a king?

As for the parents being dark wizards?

cool!

When he was young at Hogwarts, he was bullied because of his identity as the son of a dark wizard. However, after he broke the legs of each of his bullies, no one bothered him anymore.

It wasn't until graduation that he truly experienced the troubles that came with this identity.

Who would have thought that the magical world also has political vetting!

Gan!

With the Auror run out, Murphy took the elevator to the fourth basement level, feeling utterly disheartened.

Department of Magical Creatures Control.

The door at the end of the corridor leads to Murphy's office.

The signboard had a few crooked, small characters written on it:

"Pest Consultation Center".

Murphy pushed open the door with a look of utter despair, only to hear a affected, pretentious voice.

"Oh, the lazybones finally remembered to go to work, but unfortunately, you're late again."

An irregular sphere encased in a lace sweater emitted a barbell-like laugh.

Murphy was momentarily dazed.

Wait, what's that inflatable Aunt Maggie from the movie doing here?

Okay, this is his boss.

Director of the Pest Consultation Office.

The pest that Murphy hates the most.

Belinda Pound.

"Grass!"

Murphy replied with a single Chinese character, as was his custom.

"Speaking in that strange language again, don't think I can't understand it."

"..."

The fat woman turned to Murphy's side, holding a form in her hand, and deliberately drew a big X on it with a pen.

"You got marked late again, the third time now. Guess what? You're going to fail your attendance check at the end of the month..."

"hehe."

"Murphy, what kind of attitude is that! The director is talking to you!" a thin, balding man chimed in. "Don't young people these days have any manners at all?"

This is Murphy's second most hated pest: Stav Moore, the deputy director of the advisory office.

"Belinda, don't be angry. Try this ginger tea. I added a drop of florper's slime, which is good for treating insomnia. I know you like it sweet, so I added extra sugar cubes."

Stav eagerly handed Belinda a steaming cup of black tea, watching with anticipation as she frowned and took a sip.

Floppard caterpillar...

No wonder he's the deputy director in charge of pest control; his taste is just that unique.

Murphy decided to ignore the two oddballs flirting with each other, lest he offend their eyes.

He went to his desk and saw a large stack of letters piled up on it.

The Pest Advisory Office, as the name suggests, provides advice and suggestions on pest control to witch doctors' families.

For example, the most common task is to eliminate garden goblins, and occasionally, to drive away lost ghouls.

Specifically, it means replying to the letters from wizards who are harassed by pests.

For Murphy, this job was extremely tedious and boring. Most of the so-called pest problems in the letters could actually be solved with just a little knowledge of magical creatures or a little common sense.

At first, Murphy was able to provide relatively detailed solutions, but after only a month, he became utterly fed up and his replies became increasingly perfunctory.

Nowadays, he usually replies to those letters with phrases such as "burn it," "bang on the basin," or "kick it," or sometimes just a single word, such as "fire," "basin," or "kick."

He doesn't care whether the other person can understand it or not; he just wants to give up.

Suppressing the urge to tear the letters to shreds, Murphy mustered his spirits and replied to a few, only to become increasingly agitated.

I never want to go to this lousy class again!

Instinctively, Murphy reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

This is a habit I developed in a past life; when I'm feeling irritable, I crave a cigarette.

However, since transmigrating to this world, I've been living at Hogwarts, so I've long since given up smoking and don't carry cigarettes in my pockets, which is why I can't find them now.

But after rummaging around for a while, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket.

It turned out to be the business card of that mohawk man from before.

David Stik.

Director and CEO of Jelida Pharmaceutical Group.

When did that bastard put his business card in my pocket?

"What are you doing? Why aren't you replying? Who do you think is responsible for all the complaints about our department's inefficiency? These people are being plagued by pests! They're waiting for our help! And we can't do anything because you haven't even started writing!"

Belinda roared.

So why the hell don't you write it yourself?

"Belinda, your sense of responsibility is admirable," Stav Moore said, offering timely flattery.

Ugh, can you two just go die first?

The boring day has finally come to an end.

Before leaving get off work, Murphy received another piece of bad news.

"Due to several magical disasters last month, coupled with a decrease in donations, salaries for this month will be temporarily suspended. The department is raising funds as quickly as possible to make up for the shortfall next month..."

Murphy rolled his eyes in frustration as he listened to the declaration of the current minister, Milison Bagno.

A government whose main source of funding is donations and various examination fees and fines.

Unstable income, along with equally unstable expenditures, has led to frequent disruptions to the department's cash flow, and unpaid wages have become commonplace.

Damn, who came up with this kind of fiscal model?

These idiots!

The entire Ministry of Magic can't muster a single brain!

Reason and logic are like air to these wizards.

"Merlin's rotten crotch! Dog shit!" someone cursed from not far away.

Clearly, Murphy is not the only one dissatisfied with this.

The man cursed a few times, then saw Murphy and greeted her, "Murphy, come on, let's grab a drink. Damn it, I'm so angry!"

This man's name is Orton Forrest, a Muggle-born wizard a few years older than Murphy. He works for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and the two share a common interest in criticizing the Ministry of Magic.

After thinking about all the unpleasant things that had happened that day, Murphy agreed.

"Come on, three brooms."

(End of this chapter)