Chương 495: 0494 Cooperation
"Well, Mr. Barnah, it just so happens that the purpose of my visit today is to make up for that very regret."
When Bryan casually uttered these words, a palpable silence descended upon the luxurious office. Gerson Barnah, his old eyes never leaving Bryan's face, observed him with an intensity that could have bored holes through solid rock. The wrinkles on the goblin's skin, already similar bark of a centuries-old oak, deepened further, etching a look of cunning and suspicion across his face.
"How surprising and unexpected, Mr. Watson—" Barnah said slowly. Though his voice remained steady, beneath the surface, a storm of astonishment churned within him. The concept that a wizard of Bryan Watson's caliber and reputation would reverse a decision already made was as unlikely as snow in the Sahara. It opposed everything Barnah thought he knew about the man seated before him.
Mastering his inner turmoil with the skill of a seasoned politician, Barnah narrowed his eyes, allowing just the right amount of delight to appear across his face – enough to seem pleased, but not so much as to appear eager or gullible.
"I must express my deepest gratitude for your generosity, Mr. Watson," he continued, his gravelly voice carrying notes of warmth that, to the untrained ear, might have seemed genuine. "Of course, you needn't concern yourself with matters of compensation. In this particular venture, the goblin nation will waive all fees. Every Knut of advertising revenue will flow directly into Hogwarts' coffers."
"I fear you may have misinterpreted my intentions, Mr. Barnah." A soft chuckle escaped Bryan's lips. His eyes twinkling with amusement.
"My stance regarding advertisements during the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts remains unchanged. This isn't some common Quidditch World Cup arena where flashy banners and relentless promotions run rampant. An overly commercial atmosphere would be... inappropriate for an event of such historical significance."
As he spoke, Bryan's hand moved with grace, reaching into his exquisitely tailored robes. From within, he took out an object and extended the item towards Ragnok, who stood nervously at attention by his side.
The one-armed goblin, his nerves clearly frayed by the weight of the moment, took several agonizing seconds to react. When he finally did, his movements were a comedy of errors – fumbling, nearly dropping the object, and then scurrying to the other side of the table as if the floor had suddenly become molten lava.
Barnah's wrinkled hands closed around the object, his long fingers caressing its surface with a mix of intrigue and curiosity. Adjusting the pince-nez perched on his hooked nose, he scrutinized the item. Recognition dawned in his eyes almost immediately, and he spoke without a hint of hesitation.
"This is—" Barnah began, his voice carrying a hint of awe that he couldn't entirely suppress, "This is the monitoring mirror you detailed in your safety report to the event review committee during the last Wizards' Council gathering. A fascinating invention, I must say, and one with immense practical applications. The goblin nation has conducted an internal assessment of its potential. If this item were to be mass-produced, Mr. Watson, it would undoubtedly open up vast new markets."
The excitement in Barnah's voice was palpable, like a miner who had just struck a particularly rich vein of gold. His mind was already racing, calculating the potential profits.
Bryan nodded, a slight smile appearing across his lips. "Indeed, the applications for this device are widespread and varied," he acknowledged calmly. "However—for a multitude of reasons, both personal and ethical, I have reservations about allowing it to be used extensively in the daily lives of witches and wizards."
Leaning forward slightly, Bryan fixed Barnah with a penetrating gaze. "Mr. Barnah, given your evident understanding of the monitoring mirror's capabilities, have you perhaps considered its potential for broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament matches in real-time?"
The old goblin's composure, honed over centuries of high-stakes negotiations, cracked for just a moment. He was genuinely stunned this time. He hadn't anticipated Bryan Watson making such a suggestion. But—
Live broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament to all European countries with Gringotts branches.
His eyes widened; the cloudiness that had obscured them moments ago replaced by a sharp, predatory gleam.
"Can it truly broadcast images in real-time?" Barnah asked, straightening his slightly hunched back. His tone wavered between surprise and skepticism.
Bryan nodded, his movements thoughtful and assured. "It will require some adjustments and fine-tuning," he explained. "You would need to collaborate with the WWN – the Wizarding Wireless Network. By leveraging their existing network of signal receiving stations established across European countries and making some modifications to the monitoring mirrors, we should be able to achieve seamless real-time transmission."
He paused, allowing the full weight of the proposition to settle. "While the Triwizard Tournament might be viewed by some as simply a competition for young wizards, we must not underestimate its significance. This traditional event holds considerable status in the magical history of European countries. I believe many people would be interested in it—"
Interested indeed!
Even the smaller goblins, Ragnok and Laddie, who had been doing their best to blend into the background, couldn't suppress a sharp intake of breath as they realized the enormity of the opportunity.
Ticket sales for viewing the tournament? That was just pocket change, the appetizer before a feast. The real treasure, the mountain of gold that made Barnah's old heart race, lay in the myriad opportunities surrounding the broadcast. Advertisements strategically placed at viewing locations across Europe, each getting premium rates due to the captive audience. Gambling operations organized by the goblins, offering odds on every aspect of the tournament from the grand outcomes to the tiniest details of each task. The potential for profit was limited only by their imagination and their ability to exploit every angle.
When Bryan Watson had initially refused to cooperate in producing the monitoring mirrors, Barnah had felt a twinge of disappointment. Now, however, as he contemplated the amount of opportunity laid out before him, he felt the blood in his aged veins stirring, pulsing with an excitement he hadn't experienced in decades.
"This is indeed an excellent business opportunity, Mr. Watson—" The old goblin's hoarse voice quivered with barely contained excitement, like a dam on the verge of bursting. "With this brilliant idea, you stand to become one of the wealthiest individuals in the wizarding world. And if we could extend this method to Quidditch league matches, well—" He trailed off, his mind already racing ahead, envisioning the wealth empire built on the foundation of this revolutionary broadcast technology.
Bryan raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise flashing across his features. He had to admit, he was impressed. This old goblin's business acumen was razor-sharp. Bryan had just introduced the concept, and already Barnah was innovating, expanding, and seeing opportunities within opportunities.
It was truly an idea with the potential to generate wealth continuously, a golden goose that could lay eggs for generations to come. However, before it could become a stable, reliable source of income, there were still many obstacles to overcome.
Observing the aged goblin, who seemed lost in visions of industrial revolution and financial domination, Bryan tapped his long fingers on the table. The soft sound, barely audible, was nonetheless enough to draw Barnah back to the present moment.
"Your business acumen is indeed remarkable, Mr. Barnah," Bryan said, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. "However, I believe we're getting somewhat ahead of ourselves. These long-term considerations, while undoubtedly important, are matters we can discuss at a later juncture. For now, let us focus our energies on the more immediate concern – broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament."
Barnah blinked rapidly, as if awakening from a particularly vivid dream. "Ah, of course. Please forgive my momentary lapse, Mr. Watson—" Barnah inclined his head slightly towards Bryan, a gesture of respect that seemed to cost him some effort. "It's been quite some time since I've encountered an idea of such brilliance and potential. You're absolutely right, of course. We must concentrate on the task at hand – the live broadcast of the Triwizard Tournament."
The goblin's mind, honed by centuries of financial maneuvering, was already racing, plotting out the necessary steps. "We'll need to move swiftly to secure an agreement with the WWN. Venues must be rented across Europe, advertisements placed in every magical newspaper from the Daily Prophet to Le Cri de la Gargouille (The Gargoyle's Roar). The logistics are intimidating, but the potential rewards..." He trailed off, his eyes gleaming with greediness.
"Indeed, the profits promise to be substantial," Bryan said with an enigmatic smile, uttering words that the goblin found unbelievable. "Which brings us to the matter of remuneration. The goblins will pay me one-tenth of the profits—This one-tenth will be distributed among the champions participating in the Triwizard Tournament, as a token of appreciation for their contribution to the European magical world through their excellent performances."
In other words, Bryan Watson, the mastermind behind this potentially revolutionary venture, was declaring that he had no intention of claiming the lion's share of the profits for himself. Instead, he was proposing to leave the vast majority of the earnings in the goblins' capable (and eerily long-fingered) hands.
Impossible!
The word blazed through Barnah's mind like wildfire. Every instinct honed over his long career screamed that this was too good to be true. In his centuries of dealings with wizards, he had encountered countless traps. Invariably, these traps were wrapped in the most enticing of packages. But Barnah knew all too well that if one allowed themselves to be blinded by greed, to thoughtlessly take the bait, the consequences could be utterly disastrous.
Yes, the goblin race pursued profit with a single-minded determination that often shocked and appalled other magical beings. But this relentless drive for wealth did not equate to foolishness or a lack of caution. On the contrary, it was precisely because of their insatiable desire for gold that goblins had developed a level of financial acumen and wariness that far surpassed that of most wizards.
"Your generosity is... most unexpected, Mr. Watson—" Barnah spoke slowly, each word carefully chosen. The wariness had crept back into his voice, replacing the excitement of moments ago. "However, I find myself compelled to point out that you, as the brilliant mind behind this idea, and Hogwarts, as the host of the tournament, should also receive substantial compensation. It's only right and proper, wouldn't you agree?"
Bryan's smile never wavered. "I believe you may have misunderstood my intentions once again, Mr. Barnah," he said, his voice as smooth as ever. "Allow me to clarify: neither I nor Hogwarts will accept a single Knut from the profits generated by the live broadcast. However—" he paused, allowing the tension in the room to build to a crescendo, "that does not mean we have no demands."
Barnah leaned forward; his attention fully captured.
Looking at the attentive old goblin, Bryan spoke calmly,
"On the surface, the goblin nation appears to focus solely on Gringotts' banking operations, But we both know that's merely the tip of the iceberg, don't we, Mr. Barnah? In reality, goblins have their fingers in many pies. Beyond simple investments, you directly control various alchemy workshops scattered across different countries. What I require is a fully functional alchemy workshop within British borders."
Barnah's drooping eyelids trembled slightly.
"A fully functional alchemy workshop, Mr. Watson—" His voice carried a hint of displeasure. "Surely you're aware of the immense value such an establishment represents."
"Oh, I assure you, I'm acutely aware," Bryan replied calmly, his posture relaxed but his eyes never leaving Barnah's face. "However, I believe you'll find that the profits from broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament should more than cover the acquisition of an alchemy workshop, don't you think? In fact, I could easily use my share of the earnings to purchase one outright. But you see, Mr. Barnah, time is a luxury I find myself short of these days. My energies are required elsewhere, which is precisely why I've chosen this more... convenient approach."
Barnah fell silent, his mind working furiously, performing complex calculations with a speed that would have put the most advanced Arithmancy professors to shame. As the numbers merged in his mind, he had to admit, that the deal wasn't a loss. Far from it, in fact.
However, a nagging sense of unease persisted. Not knowing the urgency behind Bryan Watson's desire to acquire an alchemy workshop left him feeling as if he were navigating treacherous waters without a map.
As the goblin pondered, his gaze fell upon the monitoring mirror still resting on the table before him. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning illuminating a pitch-black sky, the old goblin's eyes lit up in realization. His eyes widened with a mixture of triumph and wariness as he blurted out,
"You intend to establish this alchemy workshop for the mass production of monitoring mirrors, don't you, Mr. Watson?"
Barnah was certain he had uncovered the truth, like a prospector striking gold after years of fruitless searching. The monitoring mirror, as an alchemical device of immense potential, had applications so wide-ranging they boggled the mind. As its inventor, Bryan Watson could easily obtain a production license, meaning he could enjoy the profits from this revolutionary invention exclusively. In the long run, he stood to benefit enormously from its use in Quidditch league matches and beyond. It all made perfect sense now – this explained why he had previously made excuses to refuse cooperation on the monitoring mirrors.
"Ah, Mr. Barnah," Just as the old goblin was certain he had unraveled the mystery, Bryan shook his head slightly, and chuckled. "I believe I've already made my stance quite clear on this matter. As I said before, I have no intention of widely introducing this particular invention into the daily lives of witches and wizards. The alchemy workshop I seek is needed for the mass production of... other items."
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