Soft sunlight brushed across the headboard like pale golden gauze. The warmth, washed by morning dew, wasn't blinding—just full of life.
"Another beautiful day."
Tiger casually pushed away Gunpowder sprawled across him. Amid a chorus of meows, he dressed and left the room.
At the bar, Nia was organizing plates.
Arthur and the others had already finished breakfast. They sat around the round table, sipping Irish whiskey while discussing recent business.
Theodore sat by the cradle like an idiot, staring straight at the baby, trying to catch the little one's attention with his expressionless smile.
"Morning, guys."
With a yawn, Tiger pulled out his wand. He pressed the sharp tip against his neck and cast a quick cleaning charm.
Since coming home, he'd gotten much lazier.
Though the sight made people's hearts skip, Arthur and the others just rolled their eyes.
"Tiger, Mom's been looking at you funny lately."
Tommy tapped his cigar. "You should watch yourself..."
Actually, it wasn't just because of Tiger.
Those ten puffs of cigar through the eyes the other day had pushed human limits.
The Cossack gang was thoroughly impressed. They acknowledged human willpower was strong, but they'd never seen it this strong.
Though they'd used potions afterward, Mother Polly still felt faint stinging in her eyes. Her temper wasn't great either.
"You should watch yourself, Tommy."
"Thanks, Nia..."
Tiger took the breakfast Nia handed him, then glanced at Tommy with obvious disdain.
That undisguised thought made Tommy's mouth twitch. This guy hadn't been home in days, not even a message. Mother Polly was furious.
Big brother shouldn't lecture second brother.
Getting hit was nothing—he could take a beating way better than Tommy.
"Right, you should watch yourself."
"Tommy!"
Mother Polly's voice suddenly rang out. Except for Theodore, the brothers flinched.
Arthur quickly walked to the cradle, playing the loving father. John hurriedly lowered his head, sniffing his collar, trying to mask the mixed perfume scents.
"What have you been busy with lately?"
Mother Polly casually opened a bottle of whiskey. As the liquid poured, her sharp gaze turned to Tommy.
Her son hadn't come home for nights on end.
The reason was one of two things—either business trips or women. But considering Tommy's past "record," Mother Polly had to be cautious.
Tommy rubbed his temples with a headache.
Honestly, sometimes he really hated his ability. But for his family's safety, he had to keep it active constantly.
"Trust me, Mom."
"I really won't repeat past mistakes. John taught me a lot. But you know—people are complex. Their thoughts are too dark. I can only wait patiently..."
At Tommy's rather pale defense, Mother Polly raised her eyebrows slightly, maintaining skepticism.
"Maybe..."
She understood her son's pain.
This ability to read hearts was both fortune and curse. But she worried more about him getting hurt again.
"I've been negotiating business with the Ministry lately. Fudge is greedy, but fortunately he's stupid enough."
Tommy smiled helplessly, then explained what he'd been doing.
Aurors were the crucial profession maintaining order in wizarding society. The problem lay precisely with the Aurors themselves.
In this wizarding world—not too big, not too small—due to Voldemort and the Pure-bloods' past dominance, elite Aurors had mostly died in previous chaos.
The remaining young Aurors gradually became a "vulnerable group." This high-risk profession made fresh blood hard to come by.
Aside from true idealism, no adult wizard wanted to send their children to a dangerous department where they could die anytime.
Those Hogwarts stars, after leaving school, either entered the Ministry's power departments, joined St. Mungo's, went to magical creature research institutes, or joined potion research associations...
The rest? On wanted posters.
Most likely working for Pure-blood nobles. After all, Pure-bloods weren't idiots—they didn't keep useless people.
These fugitives could use the Unforgivable Curses without restraint, while Aurors faced huge restrictions even using Veritaserum. Some Aurors even colluded with dark wizards.
So whether in strength or influence, rank-and-file Aurors were clearly at a disadvantage. Even with ample Ministry funding, enforcement always fell short.
"Hiss..."
Hearing Tommy's analysis, Tiger and the others' faces showed indescribable weirdness. Every detail felt so familiar.
Wasn't this just another Surrey?
"Pretty miserable."
John shook his head sympathetically.
"Come on..."
"They're Aurors, not superheroes."
Tiger rolled his eyes.
Obviously, he thought of Surrey's police, completely controlled by the Shelby Family.
But the Shelbys would never order those cops to take out government officials or British nobles.
Yet these Aurors received orders from the Minister to arrest Pure-blood nobles or Death Eaters.
And the wizarding world had no death penalty.
When these people got out through various means, the Aurors who arrested them would suffer terribly...
This was why Minister Fudge faced constant criticism from ordinary wizards.
Tommy, with his keen insight, caught this key point.
So he entered the Ministry representing the Nott family, proposing the "Strikers" plan.
Simply put—temporary "contract workers" assisting Aurors.
Extremely low entry requirements.
Strikers only had temporary external positions at the Ministry. No enforcement authority, but arrest powers.
Of course, this required Ministry-signed orders.
When problems arose, Fudge could completely shift blame to Strikers, providing "accountability" by firing them.
Aurors wouldn't have to hold back in enforcement either.
For Aurors working with Strikers, the Nott family would provide protective equipment...
"I like this plan."
John couldn't help applauding his brother.
This seemingly disadvantageous plan was actually key to the Shelby Family smoothly infiltrating law enforcement.
Once Auror casualties dropped dramatically, this largest enforcement department in the wizarding world would inevitably become a popular choice everyone competed to join, creating massive dependence on protective equipment.
Then Strikers would transform from their original marginal position into indispensable members of law enforcement.
No one would generously provide expensive protective equipment without expecting anything in return.
Especially not Pure-bloods.
But Tiger and the others weren't worried.
Knowing Tommy, he'd never let Fudge detect any hidden traces.
"So, what position did you ask Fudge for?" Mother Polly looked at her son thoughtfully.
"Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
Remembering Fudge's barely concealed glee at finding a bargain, yet still putting on a serious, upright facade, Tommy couldn't help a wicked smile.
Among the Ministry's many departments, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office was undoubtedly a marginalized corner—no real power, endless trivial matters.
But for the Shelby Family, this was a stage tailor-made for them.
After all, they were Surrey's only arms dealers.
"In the coming days, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office might have quite a few vacancies..."
A gleam flashed in his gray eyes. Tommy turned to Tiger, his smile thoroughly wicked.
"My dear brother, I'm sure you'll help me prepare the manpower, right?"
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