Chapter 23: No booths allowed within 200 meters of the venue

"So you mean this helmet will be useful?"
In the Gringotts Hall, Roman stood behind Dumbledore, carrying a heavy helmet, waiting quietly for Bill to negotiate with the leader.
If everything goes smoothly, he will have no less than half a month of vacation.
After all, he finished the work of the entire curse-breaking team for a month in one day.
"The helmet is not something you need to consider."
Dumbledore smiled and stroked his crooked nose.
"Didn't someone tell you not to touch your nose when you're lying?"
Roman tugged at the corners of his mouth, watching Bill in the distance signaling a successful move.
“Do you really need Bill as your guide? I think this place should be familiar to you.”
“Mr. Weasley is your guide,” said Dumbledore, greeting Bill cheerfully. “I'm quite busy.”
The Cairo Alchemy Research Center is the largest alchemy research center in the world.
Therefore, the International Alchemy Conference often chooses this location as the conference venue for alchemy experts to announce and exchange their research results on site.
除了真正的炼金专家外，其他所有人都是陪衬与跟班。
Unfortunately, whether it be Dumbledore, Nicolas Flamel, or even some heavyweight masters from other countries, they rarely appear at the alchemy conference.
Those names that once shone an era seem to deliberately hide their brilliance in recent years.
In order to maintain this tradition, the committee of the International Alchemy Convention has to take various measures, such as lowering the invitation criteria and holding competitions...
With the significant drop in grades, the atmosphere of the venue has become more and more lively.
As a response, the committee has put forward strict rules for the venue:
No stalls are allowed within 200 meters of the venue.
So, at a distance of two hundred and one meters from the venue—
"Sir, this is the latest unearthed mummy cloth fragment."
After Roman chased away the sixth vendor who attempted to cheat Dumbledore with a shroud, the seventh cheat came:
"Scarab beetle, scarab beetle."
"Hey kid, need some IQ enhancers? You must be a competitor judging by your age."
"If I were you, I'd smooth this out a bit more." Without his helmet, Roman pointed to the left front leg of the "scarab beetle," then put his hands on his head and followed Dumbledore out of the vendors' encirclement.
He didn't understand why the principal didn't just apparate directly to the venue, as the things these people were selling were worthless.
"There's a very powerful anti-apparition spell here." Dumbledore seemed to have eyes in the back of his head as he explained.
"Amitabha's signature."
"Amitabha's signature."
A monk dressed in a suit and a light-colored monk's robe held a stack of papers with vertical lines and blocked the entrance to the conference hall.
Of course, he was also warmly welcomed.
Two enthusiastic wizards have pulled out their wands and pushed him out the door.
"What nationality is he?" Bill showed his rare strange.
"They are from Japan - um -"
Different from other people who cannot distinguish Asian faces, experienced Roman can tell at a glance that the other party is a Japanese person who is living a good life?
"He is most likely neither a monk nor a fortune teller." Roman looked at the other party, but couldn't see any trace of a monk.
"Is it possible that it's a Chinese person?"
Bill had seen Japanese wizards before, but he was curious about Chinese wizards.
Roman didn't answer because Dumbledore had already turned his head.
He looked at Bill, not sure how to catch up the graduated student on this lesson of magical history:
"Many years ago--some unpleasant things happened."
"For a long time, we lost channels of communication with traditional Chinese wizards, until Chinese muggles living far from their homeland began to appear as wizards -"
“他们在各地的魔法学校学习魔法，最终一部分选择回到祖国。”
……
“但遗憾的是，世界上总是有层不出穷的争端——总之，当时的代表刘洮回国后，他们内部似乎发生了分裂。”
“从东方传来的消息越来越少；直到后来我得知，大量的老面孔已经死在那场战争中。”
“即便是近些年，中国也只是礼节性地派出青年代表，更多的交流发生在私人之间。”
Bill's curiosity about this piece of history couldn't spark any interest from Roman, despite Dumbledore's eloquent writing style.
He gazed at a nearby magical poster, impressed by its design.
Roger Davis' portrait is painted on it, and he nods and smiles at every passerby.
He also holds a stupid silver cube in his hand.
Below are various languages marking the theme of the poster:
Winner of the Silver Contribution Award at the International Alchemy Congress.
"Alchemy is beyond redemption," Roman shook his head, "The gold award winner's creation couldn't possibly be a wizard's robe that is marked with the owner's spell casting habits and can be remotely detonated at any time, could it?"
Dumbledore blinked and pulled Bill over to whisper a few words to him.
He then hurried towards the conference hall.
The two wizards at the door made no attempt to stop Dumbledore's figure.
"Alchemical progress is becoming increasingly difficult, even Regulus can't see its future." Dumbledore led Roman along the cobblestone path, casually looking around at the flowers and grass, "until-"
He didn't continue speaking, but Roman guessed a few things.
And Roman also inferred from between the lines, Dumbledore himself has been stagnant for many years in the research of alchemy.
"Perfect creation, eh?"
"But afterwards, a greater confusion and emptiness engulfed him." Dumbledore shuddered slightly. "For the clear-headed, death is merely another great adventure."
He looks at Roman, seeming to expect him to catch his words.
"But staying clear-headed is difficult," Roman attempts to guess, "sometimes, maintaining ignorance on certain levels is what keeps you clear-headed on other levels."
"There's no such thing as a perfect wise person," Dumbledore said with a pleased smile, "unless they have no brain."
But how can someone be wise without a brain?
Roman felt like he understood, but not completely.
An undersized, balding wizard with a big beard greeted him from afar.
"Professor Dumbledore, you have missed several conferences," he said.
"Mustafa," Dumbledore nodded gracefully, his purple cloak shining in the sunlight. "Please forgive me, there is always so much to do."
"Of course, you're a busy man."
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, this world-class Quidditch referee refused to miss the opportunity to squeeze Dumbledore.
"But there is a matter that we need your help with. Our current Bludger has a problem, and someone is taking advantage of this loophole to place bets."
"As you know, the Quidditch World Cup is being held in England in two years and I don't have much time. As well as starting the construction of the venue next year, I also have to organize the referee team."
"Don't worry, Mr. Mustafa," Dumbledore said softly, "the technology for the snitch is very sophisticated, and if there are any loopholes, I believe we just need to make targeted modifications to some details."
Can this be said?
Roman watched as the bearded wizard quickly dragged Dumbledore away and felt like he had missed a chance to make money.
"This is your registration material, and some of it needs to be signed by you personally."
Bill ran up to Roman gasping for breath, and handed him several sheets of parchment paper covered in words.
Roman looked around in confusion, not seeing any kind of reception area, but did see a very annoying woman.
"Your classmates have already embarked on the path of pioneering contributions, while you are still participating in student competitions. Do you have anything to say?"
A hand was placed in front of them.
The fingers were thick and fat, with nails that were over two inches long, painted bright red and resembling claws.
"I know you have had some small disputes with the Ministry of Magic and the Prophecy Office before,"
She rummaged through the crocodile-skin handbag slung over her arm and pulled out a long, brightly green quick-quotes quill. Matched with her all-green robe, it was almost too green to handle.
"I think I have the right to refuse an interview with the Prophet Daily." Ronan tugged at Bill to prevent him from revealing the color of his underwear to Rita.
"Evening Prophet! This time it's for the Evening Prophet," Rita Skeeter flicked her heavily drawn eyebrows and showed off the three gold teeth in her mouth.
“看上去，你对自己同学的发明并不服气。”她看着羽毛笔飞速地在空中舞动，小作文便在顷刻间写就。
“罗杰·戴维斯的小发明，很有意思。”罗曼皮笑肉不笑地看着眼前这个浓妆艳抹的女人，“另外，窃听是违法的。”
She had her blonde hair done into elaborate, stiff, and weird curls, which paired with her large chin made her look quite awkward.
If magic wasn't restricted, he would have pulled out his wand and cast a powerful spell on her.
"Little invention, let me see..."
The shorthand pen flew rapidly across the writing board as Rita kept muttering the words "little invention", her jewel-encrusted glasses sparkling.
She thinks that after getting a chance to interview Roger, she will be able to write an explosive article.