As Fang Senyan was wondering, a person suddenly appeared from the space next to him! Immediately followed by light spilling out, and the sound of voices could faintly be heard.

The person took a few cautious steps forward, then suddenly laughed: "A sailor, here too." Fang Senyan turned his face, catching the light, and smiled back: "Hey, Jack, what a coincidence?" It turned out this person was none other than the bearded man Fang Senyan had encountered when he first entered the Nightmare Space—the self-proclaimed Jack the Ripper. He looked pleased now, clearly having profited well.

Fang Senyan, eager to uncover the secrets of Number 13, Knockturn Alley, gave a hurried greeting and pressed forward, instantly perceiving the hidden mechanism. What appeared to be a desolate ruin of an 'open space' actually concealed a very well-hidden trapdoor.

Bending down, he gripped the handle and pulled, revealing a passage leading down. A sliver of light emanated from the side of the tunnel, and he surmised that during the day, some illusions or concealing enchantments must be placed over the ruins outside, only removed at night, making the entrance exceedingly secret.

Fang Senyan ducked his head and descended the narrow steps. A wave of hot, strong alcohol odor immediately assaulted him, mingled with the scent of blood and leather.

Ahead, a large hall unfolded, loud and boisterous. The hall was divided in two by a row of vertical iron bars.

Opposite the bars, there was a long counter that looked strikingly similar to a modern bank. Inside sat a group of fierce-looking men clad in leather armor.

However, nearly every one of them was physically disabled in some way. The decorations around the hall consisted mainly of knives, swords, and broken shields, punctuated by the skulls of bulls and deer that had been severed.

The sign above the hall was fashioned into the shape of a bull's skull, bearing a rather peculiar name: "London Meat Syndicate, Knockturn Alley Branch" "With a line underneath: Also dealing in various rare leathers, fresh offal, chicks and young beasts, and eggs." Seeing this, Fang Senyan immediately understood: this place must be the headquarters of those poacher organizations. In fact, even in the magical world, such gray industries must exist, with profit chains interlocked and likely already spread throughout the entire magical realm.

Take the paragon of righteousness, Professor Dumbledore, for example—surely the materials he used for his spells weren't entirely legal? Was the dragon egg Hagrid acquired obtained through legitimate channels?

Even Harry Potter could not avoid dealing with such things—his pet snowy owl Hedwig couldn't possibly have just wandered out of a breeding farm, and his wand, which was practically a weapon of mass destruction, contained a phoenix feather. It was said wand-making materials also included dragon heartstring, Veela hair, unicorn hair, and Thestral tail hair, etc.

It was hard to imagine these creatures willingly vying to offer up parts of their bodies just to make a wizard's spell power stronger… Upon entering, Fang Senyan was immediately stopped by a large man whose face was etched with harsh experience. A deep scar could be seen winding from his neck to the edge of his collar, clearly unfinished.

His words were clipped and carried a hint of menace: "Password, sir, or please turn 180 degrees and leave—or be carried out." "Shining gold coin," Fang Senyan smiled. The large man's face immediately contorted into a strange expression, as if a starving man, savoring rich meat and wine, suddenly realized he had swallowed several flies.

Clearly, Mr. Infinitus had not left the organization with the best impression.

Nevertheless, the big man stepped aside, gruffly pointing toward an empty window booth nearby. Fang Senyan walked straight over and sat down on the tall, aged stool, stating directly: "I need detailed information on Centaurs, preferably including their attack methods, weaknesses, and distribution areas." The person behind the iron bars murmured, "Oh," and couldn't help but scrutinize Fang Senyan a few times.

Seeing his strong build and decisive manner of speech, he conceded: "Though it seems excessive, if you lack sufficient capability, seeking out Centaurs will only make you an extra dish for their supper." Fang Senyan smiled: "Trust me, I'm not eager to die yet." The man inside said nothing more: "Thirty Galleons, and you'll get what you want." Fang Senyan sighed again. He still possessed a fifty-Galleon note he’d taken from the Crowbar, but this currency could be converted into universal points.

At this point, he had no choice but to spend it, so he handed over the note. The man promptly handed back a small booklet and the change.

Fang Senyan flipped through it; it contained detailed information on Centaurs: Species: Humanoid Height: 2 meters to 3 meters Characteristics: Human head, torso, and limbs attached to a horse's body; coat color varies. Preferences: Roasted purple clover meat.

Habits: Centaurs are highly intelligent and speak human languages, but they maintain a strong disdain for humans. When attacked, they often exhibit intense vengefulness.

Relations with Humans: Centaurs with brown/white coats tend to be more friendly toward humans. Even if unwilling to interact, they will not cause harm.

However, a small minority of black/gray Centaurs are filled with hostility toward humans and often initiate aggressive attacks upon encounter. Many hikers and mountaineers who disappeared in Europe were victims of dark Centaurs.

Social Structure: They live in herds, usually numbering between ten and fifty. As omnivores, they sometimes hunt individually when separated from the group.

Abilities: Generally, brown/white Centaurs are masters of Herbology, Divination, and Astronomy. Black/gray Centaurs are excellent javelin throwers and can cast some basic healing spells and Dark Arts, though they are not masters of any specific discipline.

Weaknesses: Centaurs generally do not possess high intelligence, leading to an inability to sustain prolonged combat. Typically, they only carry three to five spears; once the spears are exhausted, they are reduced to unarmed combat.

Precautions: A Centaur's hooves, both front and rear, possess tremendous power; a kick delivers immense force. Therefore, it is best to maintain an attack from the side.

Centaurs are highly intelligent; if they sense defeat, they will invariably flee. If possible, targeting their legs first to incapacitate their movement is advisable.

Distribution Areas: Yorkshire, Glasgow (Black/Gray Centaurs) Distribution Areas: The Forbidden Forest in the valley of Tay (Brown/White Centaurs) Looking at this data, Fang Senyan had made up his mind. As he turned to leave the entrance, the large man stopped him again: "Since the password is 'Shining gold coin,' you must have been introduced by that stingy, little green-skinned dwarf, right?" Fang Senyan shrugged helplessly and smiled: "I have a favor to ask of Mr.

Infinitus." The big man sneered: "As long as you pay, calling him that to his face will still make that goblin smile widely—no need for pleasantries. What does that Goblin want you to do?" Fang Senyan hesitated slightly, then realized the man would likely gather intelligence on what he’d purchased from his own people anyway, so he didn't hide it: "He needs Centaur livers." "That idiot," the big man spat on the ground dismissively: "I won't lie to you.

The organization is in urgent need of a batch of Centaur hides. If you can procure some, we'll buy them at a premium price.

What do you say?" Fang Senyan's heart stirred, followed by immense delight. Dealing with the Goblin would certainly cost a lot of money, but it simultaneously offered an opportunity for compensation.

He immediately asked: "What price?" The big man said: "My name is John. If you return alive with Centaur hides, come find me here to trade.

White/brown Centaur hides fetch the highest price, four hundred Galleons each; black/gray Centaurs are a bit lower, two hundred each." Fang Senyan nodded and walked out, pointing back at the big man: "If I were you, I'd start gathering enough funds right now." The big man, John, paused, then let out a loud laugh, saying nothing more. After leaving Number 13, Fang Senyan went back to find Infinitus.

Since he had found a source of income, spending the remaining twenty Galleons didn't matter much. This time he sought out the well-informed Goblin to save time.

The Centaur habitats were in sparsely populated regions, and travel to and from would cost Fang Senyan at least two or three days of road time—not counting other necessary tasks. Therefore, Floo Powder, which allowed instantaneous travel via fireplace, was the optimal choice now.

This time, Infinitus readily agreed to Fang Senyan's request, although it didn't seem to be due to any particular fondness for him; it was more likely that the twenty Galleons of magical currency held greater utility. Moreover, Fang Senyan could use Floo Powder for the return journey, saving a significant amount of time in the interim.

Infinitus even dispatched a House-Elf to accompany Fang Senyan to help him familiarize himself with the terrain—though the elf was utterly useless in combat. This fully embodied the truth that with money, goblins could procure valuable goods.

Despite feeling quite exhausted, Fang Senyan immediately used Floo Powder to teleport to Yorkshire. Hehe, next, a little promotion for a good brother—though 99% of people have heard his book.

Xian Ni (Renegade Immortal), I hope friends who have the heart will go check it out, hehe. Although my advertisement is very late, it is at least a heartfelt effort.