Under the guidance of George and Fred, Link went on to tour several other classrooms.
Only then did Link suddenly realize that George and Fred's black-market workshop business had completely taken over more than five classrooms along this corridor, the scale was ridiculously large.
Aside from the dungbombs he'd seen earlier, their "industrial empire" also included counterfeit and shoddy love potions, all kinds of alchemical prank devices, and even one classroom specifically used as a packaging workshop for their products.
All of these so-called workrooms shared many things in common.
Terrible hygiene, serious safety hazards, very few workers, most of whom had to multitask, and, worst of all, the workers themselves were of extremely low skill and quality.
After finishing the full tour, Link and the others once again stood in the corridor.
Link was silent, deep in thought.
George and Fred, however, were looking at Link and Emily nervously, their hearts pounding.
They knew perfectly well that the fate of their workshops now rested entirely in Link's hands.
Even though Emily had hinted to them earlier that Link probably didn't come here with much hostility this time, they still couldn't help but feel uneasy when the moment came.
Finally, Link spoke.
"Didn't you say before that so many people had signed up to work that you were even thinking of expanding? Why is it that I don't see many people here now?"
George and Fred were startled by the sudden question. They exchanged a quick look before Fred stepped forward with a forced smile and replied, "Of course, plenty of people applied! But we have to keep costs under control, you know."
"If one person can handle a job, there's no need to hire two. And as for those students in the NEWT-level Potions or Alchemy classes, sure, they're really skilled, but we can't afford them! Besides, the stuff we make honestly isn't that technical. We don't really need people like that."
"Then," Link continued, "how much are you paying your current student workers?"
"Twenty Knuts an hour," George said matter-of-factly. "That's already a very high wage! After all, the work they're doing isn't exactly difficult or skilled."
Hearing this, Emily's expression didn't change much.
Being born into wealth, she had little concept of what a Knut was worth anyway.
But Link's expression control clearly faltered.
When he first entered the wizarding world, he had studied its financial system and prices in detail in order to adapt quickly.
And what did twenty Knuts mean?
A copy of the Daily Prophet cost five Knuts.
That meant these students were working an entire hour just to afford four newspapers.
More importantly, from what Link had observed, these students were definitely not doing "a one-person job," as Fred claimed.
Each of them was doing the work of two or even three people.
And yet they were being paid this insultingly low wage.
Good grief, in a society where labor costs were already inflated like crazy, George and Fred Weasley had managed to push worker exploitation to its absolute limit.
Link glared at George and Fred with the kind of look one reserves for scum.
"Treating your workers like this, doesn't your conscience hurt?"
"Oh come on, Link, that's unfair!" George and Fred protested anxiously, talking over each other.
"We're already treating them pretty well! You have to remember, when it was just the two of us developing and producing things ourselves, our working conditions were way worse than this! We worked way harder than they do now!"
Link nodded slightly.
He actually believed that.
The education he'd received in his past life had taught him plenty about how evil capitalism operated.
He knew that, when a tiny enterprise first begins, the people the founders exploit the most are often themselves.
Through that self-exploitation, they learn the proper methods of squeezing value from others, by practicing on their own bodies, they take their first firm step toward becoming true capitalists.
Perhaps noticing Link's long silence, Fred got nervous and tried to joke.
"Hey Link, you know what's funny? When we first started, we were actually offering one silver Sickel per hour!"
"But so many people applied that they started underbidding each other just to get hired! They literally lowered their own pay! We thought it was hilarious."
"Ha! So you even ran into worker competition, huh?"
Link shook his head with a half-smile.
"Competi... what? What's 'competition'?"
George and Fred clearly had never heard the term, and looked confused.
But Link just waved them off and went back to thinking.
As terrible as George and Fred's behavior was, it had provided Link with an important piece of information.
Right now, students were desperate to earn pocket money.
After all, young wizards from Muggle families could only exchange a small amount of Galleons from Gringotts each year. Even kids from ordinary wizarding families had less pocket money because Hogwarts provided food and lodging.
And then there were the extra material costs for advanced NEWT-level Potions and Alchemy practice.
All of this meant that even a harsh, miserable job like this one was still highly sought after, to the point that students were competing for it.
Having confirmed this, Link suddenly had a new idea for how to counter Umbridge.
What if he created his own part-time job platform for students?
Not to make money, but to strategically spend it, to distribute wealth in a limited, controlled way.
Link thought that was a good idea.
Umbridge could win favor by making big empty promises to the older students.
He, on the other hand, could win them over by simply throwing money around.
After all, he had plenty of it.
Across Germany and Britain, the Fleury family's vast network of both legal and not-so-legal enterprises poured in endless streams of wealth.
Even just a fraction of that income would be enough to fund this plan.
If he could get this platform running, everything would soon fall back under his control.
Thinking that, Link turned back toward George and Fred.
Now only one question remained.
Did their black workshops still need to exist?
The answer was yes.
They had to exist.
And not just exist, they had to continue for a long time.
Link reached this conclusion quickly.
Throwing money around could indeed win people's hearts in the short term.
But human desire is endless, and becoming a wizard doesn't change that.
If you keep handing out money forever, people only become greedier.
The old stories of the rich man and the beggar, or of gratitude turning to resentment, had already proven that.
To keep winning people's loyalty, you had to let them see heaven while also being reminded of hell.
Happiness is born from contrast.
And George and Fred's black workshops were perfect for being that "hell."
However, as they stood now, their "hell" wasn't quite convincing enough, they'd need to make it a bit more extreme.
A slow smile spread across Link's face.
Seeing that, George and Fred suddenly felt a chill run down their spines.
It was as if the person standing before them wasn't their schoolmate, but a beast baring its fangs, ready to tear them apart and devour them whole.
"George, Fred, I'm not going to stop you from running your student workshops. In fact, I'll even protect you, make sure they can keep going for a long, long time."
Link smiled. "But, in return, you'll have to cooperate with me on something."
"We understand! We totally understand!"
George hurriedly pulled a heavy little pouch from his pocket. His face was smiling, but his expression was pained.
Inside that pouch were twenty whole Galleons, all the savings the twins had left.
"No, no," Link shook his head. "I don't need your pitiful little coins. What I need you to do is make your workshops even more exploitative. Harsher conditions, lower pay, ideally, even let a minor accident or two happen. Nothing serious, of course."
George and Fred looked at each other, their faces darkening.
They couldn't figure out what Link stood to gain from this.
And not understanding meant there was potential danger.
"Don't overthink it," Link said calmly. "I'll take care of any problems that arise. You can trust my capability. And I'll also compensate you for your cooperation."
As he spoke, Link reached into his own robe and pulled out a pouch, tossing it to the floor.
Clatter!
The bag fell open, and a cascade of gold coins engraved with fire dragons spilled out, forming a small, shining mound.
"There are a thousand Galleons here. Once we sign the contract later, they're yours."
He said it with a gentle smile.
But George and Fred barely heard the words, their eyes were glued to the glittering pile of gold.
Seeing that, Link didn't rush them. He and Emily just stood quietly and watched.
The twins' faces were full of greed.
It was a look Link and Emily had seen countless times before.
People like that were slaves to money, blind to what it truly was.
To Link and Emily, who understood a portion of the world's true nature, money was nothing but a tool, holding no inherent value of its own.
Industries, resources, manpower, those were real wealth.
In fact, Link's dramatic act of throwing gold was a kind of test for George and Fred.
A momentary daze was fine.
But if they couldn't pull themselves out of it, it would prove they were just ordinary fools, slaves to money.
If they could resist, however, it meant they still had potential.
Huff!
After a long silence and a few heavy, gasping breaths like drowning men breaking the surface, George and Fred finally came to their senses.
Their eyes were bloodshot, sweat soaked through their clothes, they looked utterly spent, as if they'd just fought for their lives.
"We'll do it," George said hoarsely. "But we need to know, what exactly do you mean by a 'minor accident'? Like this?"
He pointed toward the classroom that had just suffered a dungbomb disaster, where unfortunate students were still being hosed down.
Link frowned.
"That's too much. I need you to attract anger, not make everyone hate you. Remember this, the student workers can get hurt, but not seriously. The injuries have to be minor, the kind Madam Pomfrey can fix easily."
At those words, George and Fred exchanged another look, and each saw the same answer in the other's eyes.
They could do that.
The twins weren't truly greedy people.
They made money only for one reason, to fulfill their dream of opening a joke shop.
And with Link's thousand Galleons, their startup fund would finally be complete.
As long as Link's demands weren't too extreme, they'd do whatever it took, even if it meant being expelled from Hogwarts.
As for why Link wanted this done?
They didn't really care anymore.
In their minds, Link had always been a weird guy, maybe this was just another one of his strange moods.
"We agree! When do we sign the contract?"
Both twins spoke at once.
Link nodded in satisfaction.
They had barely passed his test.
That was both good and bad.
The good part was that they were capable and could help handle more things.
The bad part was that people like them couldn't be easily bound by money, so there'd be no way to use an Unbreakable Vow to fully control them.
Link pulled out a piece of parchment stamped with a Gringotts goblin seal.
"Let's sign it now. We'll discuss the terms together."
George and Fred's expressions grew serious.
They recognized that parchment immediately.
A goblin magic contract.
Breaking such a contract wouldn't kill you, but it would definitely make you wish you were dead.
The twins didn't have much worldly experience.
To them, this contract already looked extremely formal and binding.
"Alright," George finally said after a long pause. "Let's discuss it."
Half an hour later, after heated arguments, the contract burst into flames and turned to ash the moment all three names were signed.
The tension in the corridor finally eased.
"Well then, Link, we won't keep you any longer!"
"Yeah, yeah, go get dinner! We'll stay here!"
George and Fred said cheerfully, already crouching to gather the remaining gold.
Link didn't respond. Instead, he turned toward the nearby classroom still sealed with his ice spell.
"What about that?" he asked.
"Oh, that?" George looked up casually.
"We'll just board it up with some wood and mud later, don't worry. We'll make sure the smell doesn't spread. The stuff inside's worthless anyway, just materials, and the tools were all brought by the workers themselves, so we don't have to pay for anything."
"Don't you think… that's a bit much?"
Emily, who had been silent this whole time, finally couldn't help but speak.
Fred lifted his head with a grin and shrugged.
"Hogwarts is full of weird, gross traps anyway. One or two more won't make a difference. Nobody'll care."
And with that, he happily went back to scooping up coins.
Emily was speechless.
Link couldn't help giving them a thumbs-up.
"Truly worthy of being you two!"