Chapter 1279: Minor Characters of the Marketplace (Part 3)

Ian squeezed through the crowd, only to find two wizards facing off at a stall selling magic fabrics. One was a skinny figure in a gaudy robe.

The other was a burly man, shirtless, revealing a chest covered in totem tattoos.

“Damn Cafu! How dare you use inferior chameleon hide to pass off as moonlight worm silk! My invisibility cloak only lasted three uses before failing! Compensate me!”

The skinny wizard shrieked, waving a cloak that indeed seemed somewhat dim.

“Nonsense! Don’t talk rubbish! Makulu! You clearly cast improperly, your magic power backlash ruined my good materials! Still trying to extort me? Get lost!”

Burly Cafu boomed back, not backing down, even giving the other a hard shove.

Makulu staggered backward from the push, knocking over a basket-selling stall nearby, seething with anger: “You dare lay a hand?! Eat my ‘Tickling Curse’!”

He shakily chanted an incantation, and a weak red light shot towards Cafu.

Cafu clearly wasn’t going to be outdone either; he roared, punching the ground directly, causing weak seismic waves to ripple out, making the surrounding spectators stumble, while also inadvertently disrupting the tickling curse, making the red light go astray and hitting an innocent bystander’s ankle.

The person immediately clutched their ankle and roared with laughter.

“Is that all you’ve got? Watch my ‘Greasy Technique’!” Cafu took a horn from his waist and blew out a puff of odd-smelling black smoke, enveloping Makulu. Makulu couldn’t dodge in time; his feet suddenly became incredibly slippery, and he fell flat on his back, utterly embarrassed.

Their street fight seemed more like a child’s scuffle.

Ian watched with relish.

The two continued in the middle of the street, attacking each other with clumsy and uncoordinated magic. Sometimes feeble beams of light flew around, sometimes the ground trembled slightly, then there were inexplicably hazy smokes and slippery areas. It was more of two kids playing with cheap toys than a wizard duel.

The scene was laughably funny at times, with spectators not afraid but rather bursting into laughter and instigating. Some even started betting on who would win.

These two wizards’ magic skills were truly unimpressive. Their casting was crude, their control over magic power was extremely poor, and they used nothing but petty tricks. At Hogwarts, they’re likely no better than third-year students. This also, from a side angle, reflected how African magic education perhaps focused more on practicality and tradition.

Where non-systematic theoretical learning led to the varying levels among the grassroots wizards.

As the farce threatened to spill over into more stalls, suddenly, a series of urgent and coordinated footsteps approached.

“Stop! Magic Market prohibits private fights!”

A team of wizards in navy blue uniforms, wearing badges, with serious expressions, quickly parted the crowd and rushed in. They moved efficiently, coordinating seamlessly, and paired in twos, indiscriminately binding Makulu and Cafu, who were still cursing and tussling, tightly with binding spells.

“Disrupting market order and damaging others’ property, according to the East African Magic Market Management Regulations, detained and fined!” the leading enforcement officer sternly declared, giving the two no chance to argue. The spectators who were jeering suddenly quieted down, clearly quite apprehensive of the enforcers.

Makulu and Cafu, like two chickens having their necks pinched, instantly deflated, sullenly escorted off by the enforcers. The farce quickly came to an end.

The market soon resumed its normal order as if nothing had happened.

Only Ian was left wanting more.

“I’m really quite the gossip-loving little rascal.”