Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

The atmosphere at the dining table was lively. As a wizard band took their places on the stage at the front of the restaurant, beautiful and peculiar music began to play. Soothing and graceful notes, combined with the changing lights, reached the ears of every guest. Their faces were filled with joy as they nodded in agreement, occasionally whispering to the person next to them, eliciting knowing smiles.

This book is first published on the entire network by 𝕥 𝕨 𝕜 𝕒 𝕟 . 𝕔 𝕠 𝕞

"This is really good. I like this piece."

Nakel's stiff shoulders gradually relaxed. He picked up a napkin, wiped his mouth, and looked at the young male and female wizards on the stage. The tension he had been feeling eased considerably, causing him to lean back against the chair.

"Do you know, Mr. Black, tonight is probably the happiest night I've had in years."

He turned his head and glanced at Charlie, whose eyes were also sparkling as he enjoyed the performance and clapped his hands, unconsciously keeping rhythm. It seemed like a joke, but it was also exceptionally sincere.

"Delicious food, beautiful music, a peaceful atmosphere... everything is very good, Nakel."

Hearing Nakel's words, Charlie smiled, turned to face him, nodded, and praised softly,

"I am also particularly happy with this dinner. Thank you, my friend."

After speaking, the two of them said nothing more, tacitly raising their glasses from the table, and with a crisp "Ding—" sound, they clinked together in mid-air.

After an unknown amount of time, the music gradually came to an end. The performing male and female wizards simultaneously put down their instruments after the last note faded, and bowed deeply to the audience, earning a round of enthusiastic applause. The red wine braised chicken, which had just been finished, was taken away, and cream of mushroom soup was freshly placed in front of the three of them.

Seeing that the atmosphere was just right, after hesitating for a moment, Nakel finally chose to open his mouth and steer the topic towards his main purpose for inviting Charlie to this dinner.

"Mr. Black..." He slowly raised his head, put down the spoon in his hand, looked at Charlie Black in front of him, and called out softly.

"Hmm?" Charlie responded, shifting his attention back to Nakel. He didn't say much but slightly raised his eyebrows, waiting for the other person to continue.

Nakel still wore his usual faint smile, and as if struck by a sudden idea, he casually said to Charlie in a chatty tone,

"Actually, maybe it's because I'm really getting old... I've been feeling less and less of the enthusiasm I used to have for handling work these days."

"Normal." Charlie nodded, his words carrying a hint of agreement, as if hearing Nakel's words reminded him of his own state.

Immediately afterward, he couldn't help but sigh, pick up his wine glass, and gently swirl the unfinished red wine within. His posture also became a bit more weary. "Just like I said... time always makes people become lazy without realizing it. Even me, I have to hand over most of the work to the little elves and only be responsible for approving important documents. What's more, you're almost fifty years old? I still stand by what I said not long ago... learn to rest early, put down your work, and hand it over to Little Sanchez."

"Yes, just like you said." The smile on Nakel's face deepened even more. As he spoke, he turned his head and took a deep look at Gao Biqi Sanchez, who had been keeping his head down since the beginning, pretending to be air and not saying anything.

Seemingly feeling the meaning contained in his father's gaze, or perhaps understanding the direction in which the atmosphere of this dinner would proceed, Little Sanchez narrowed his eyes, quietly looking at the figure vaguely reflected in the soup bowl in front of him. His expression was like a puppet, stiff and carrying an undisguisable sense of powerlessness.

The other self in the soup bowl made him feel a little agitated. Finally, Little Sanchez took a deep breath and suddenly stood up from his seat.

His action attracted the attention of Charlie and Nakel, causing them to simultaneously stop what they were saying and turn to look at the tall and upright figure.

His height of 1.9 meters and broad frame fully inherited the excellent genes of his father, Nakel Sanchez. When he hunched his shoulders and stooped his back, it was still hard to see, but when he truly stretched out and existed openly in their line of sight, Charlie suddenly realized this.

Little Sanchez's eyes flickered, and his lips trembled slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but after a moment, it only turned into a sentence, "I'm full, Father, Mr. Black." After speaking, he earnestly bowed to Charlie, then left his seat and walked out of the restaurant without looking back... …

Leaving only Charlie and Nakel watching his back, their eyes each revealing a hint of inexplicable emotion.

… … … …

"What's going on?!"

However, at the same time that Little Sanchez left, in the back kitchen of the restaurant, a man in his thirties with shoulder-length, brownish-red curly hair, dressed luxuriously and nobly, was standing in the center with an unkind expression, coldly scolding.

The originally noisy and busy chefs also stopped their work for a moment, standing neatly in front of the man, carefully and restrained, lowering their heads, not daring to make eye contact with him in the slightest.

The man was holding a white porcelain plate in his hand, and the food inside was exactly the Belgian salad that had just been served to Charlie and Nakel not long ago.

The man glanced around, and seeing that no one answered his question, he paced over to a bald chef with glasses, about forty years old.

Seeming to feel him stop in front of him, the chef who had been lowering his head buried his head even lower, swallowing a mouthful of saliva as his Adam's apple trembled up and down.

"Did you make this salad?"

Finally, the man spoke.

"Yes... yes, Mr. Idel."

The chef raised his head with difficulty, responding with a stutter.

Yes, the man in front of him was the owner of this restaurant, Dutetann Idel.

Hearing the chef's answer, the expression on Idel's face became even more angry.

"Pa, cha!" With a sound, Idel suddenly loosened the hand that was holding the plate, causing the white porcelain plate and the Belgian salad inside to shatter into pieces with a crisp sound.

"So... you're feeding our restaurant's guests this kind of rotten, shit-like thing?"

As he spoke, he shook his hand... then suddenly grabbed the chef's collar, pulled him forcefully in front of him, and questioned him word by word.

"I think I once told all of you... the people who come here to eat, without exception, are the most distinguished and prestigious guests in the entire French magical world—which also means that the level of service they receive must be the highest standard in all of France... no! Even the highest standard in the world."

Having said that, he released the chef's collar, then suddenly raised his foot and stomped hard on the Belgian salad that had already been spilled all over the ground, until he crushed it into a pile of mush. Only then did he finally stop, deeply exhaling a breath, and continued to say,

"But now... you actually use this kind of thing to fool me, to fool our customers?!"

At this moment, the chef's lips were already white. It seemed that he had never seen his boss get angry to this extent. His legs trembled uncontrollably, and he looked at Idel with a pleading expression, softly defending himself,

"Respected Mr. Idel... I haven't been feeling very well these past two days. You know, there are too many things to do, I..."

"Those are all excuses."

However, before he could finish his words, he was directly blocked by Idel.

His expression suddenly lost the anger and excitement he had just had, becoming cold and terrifying. He stared blankly at the other person, slowly shaking his head.

"I will personally go out later to express my apologies to our guests. As for you... you no longer have a chance."