Hogwarts: The Wizarding World's First Capitalist

A red light slowly flew out from the tip of Carl's wand.

Looking at the weak light and the spell that he had never heard of.

Professor Quirrell was extremely disdainful, and just as he had promised, he did not make any defensive gestures.

He didn't even move the hand holding the wand, he just stood there straight, even trying to look as handsome as possible.

It was just because of the outfit that he looked particularly funny.

It took the red magic light three full seconds to fly across the distance of less than ten meters.

The bullet hit the opponent's stomach, and as expected, Professor Quirrell did not feel any pain.

He even felt a little warm in his stomach. He shook his head in disdain and habitually wanted to say something harsh to Karl.

But this time, he didn't have any chance to speak, he just raised his wand.

Suddenly, I felt a movement in my abdomen and the sound of bubbles bursting continuously, coming from Professor Quirrell's abdomen.

The professors and students were all puzzled after hearing this.

After a moment, the magic took effect, and even though Professor Quirrell tried hard to tighten his sphincter, he was still unable to control his sphincter.

Realizing that he had been tricked, Voldemort immediately returned control of his body to the poor fellow.

After all, if you have diarrhea in class, what does it have to do with me, Voldemort?

After regaining control of his body, Professor Quirrell immediately thought of escaping, but the students and teachers had already retreated to the back.

He had already blocked the door and stood in front of everyone with a distorted face, wanting to shout loudly.

Yet he didn't dare to breathe in, for fear that if he exhaled deeply, he would be plunged three thousand miles into a waterfall.

Finally, Old Deng noticed something unusual, pushed everyone aside, walked up to the other person, patted him gently on the shoulder, and asked with concern.

"What's wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell?"

This time, the well-intentioned concern became the last straw that broke the camel's back, that pat on the shoulder.

It also disrupted the balance of muscle strength that Professor Quirrell had worked hard to maintain.

"It's over!!"

Professor Quirrell had lost all hope in life. After a loud roar, a strange liquid mixed with some solid substances appeared.

It started to pour out of his body because this guy had been eating garlic and had been constipated for a long time.

Those things continued to ferment in his stomach and intestines, and when they suddenly opened up, you can imagine the smell.

The whole classroom was filled with an indescribable stench, as if it had been attacked by a dung bomb.

Dumbledore, who was standing closest, suffered the most. His body was stiff as he watched himself slap the other person's right hand.

He looked at the dark brown, indescribable thing under the other person's body again.

Suddenly realizing that he might not be clean, he suppressed the intense nausea and pulled his right hand back forcefully.

This violent movement caused Professor Quirrell to lose his balance, and he had no desire to live.

It was no longer possible for him to maintain his balance through his own efforts, just like that in the eyes of everyone.

Professor Quirrell fell backwards in a daze into a pool of indescribable substance, dark brown solid mixed with yellow brown liquid.

There were ripples and splashes of liquid, even landing on Dumbledore's robes.

Many students couldn't help but vomit wildly after witnessing this scene.

After a while, it was completely impossible for anyone to stay in the classroom, whether it was the professor or the students.

They all rushed outside, and Carl was even faster after casting the spell.

He was alone, and while no one was paying attention, he quickly hid under the table on the podium and just stuck his head out.

I saw that the podium was covered with smelly objects. Fortunately, I was smart, otherwise I would have been "covered with shit".

So he dodged, crawled out from under the table on the podium, and then kicked out with a big kick.

He kicked open the door in front of the classroom and shouted.

"Go this way, there's no one here."

Seeing that there was still an escape passage, the students immediately split into two groups and passed through quickly.

Of course, before leaving, I couldn't help but cover my nose and suppress my nausea. I looked around and felt like I had lost all desire to live.

Professor Quirrell was lying on the ground motionless with tears in his eyes.

The students were still retching until they reached the corridor, surrounded by professors and Dumbledore.

All the professors looked at Dumbledore with disbelief and thought to themselves.

How did you pick such a weirdo to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?

Professor Snape's eyes were full of pride, which made Dumbledore extremely embarrassed.

At this time, Karl, the caring little cotton-padded jacket, hurried over, but he avoided the main point and ignored him completely.

This matter was caused by him alone, he said with worry and anger.

"Headmaster, I must begin to doubt the quality of teaching at Hogwarts. This is something I have never seen before."

"But adhering to the original intention of seeking the welfare of all students, I still want to say that the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor should be decided immediately."

"As for Professor Quirrell." Carl said this, as if he cared about the other person, and deliberately stuck his head through the gap in the door.

He looked at Professor Quirrell, who was lying alone in the classroom, and said helplessly.

"He may need some psychological treatment for a period of time."

Hearing this, Dumbledore was almost furious. He had never been so angry since 1945.

Those eyes, through the half-moon lenses, stared at Karl with unusual resentment, and asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Then Mr. Hohenzollern, as a top student, what do you think? Who do you want to recommend?"

These words immediately attracted a burst of cold gazes, and Professor Snape stared at Carl.

Karl looked at the other person with a smile and slowly extended a ring finger, his meaning was very clear.

If you want me to speak well of you, you must promise me what I said before.

Professor Snape certainly understood what this meant. He first sighed, then quietly turned his head to look at Harry who was still retching at the door.

After accidentally making eye contact with him, she took a deep breath and nodded lightly.

After Carl finally got what he wanted, he immediately said it bluntly.

"We need a professor with integrity, courage, teaching experience, and kindness to teach important lessons."

"So I recommend Professor Knepper. I think no one should doubt his achievements in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I've finished speaking, who's in favor, who's against."

This may sound a bit arrogant, but now the professors just want to leave this disgusting place as soon as possible.

Dumbledore didn't want to dwell on it any longer. He could already tell for sure that this little guy was really poisonous.

You cannot communicate too much with the other party, otherwise you will be led into the other party's language trap.

As for what happened today, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future to settle accounts with the other party.

So he looked down at his already dirty robe, suppressed his nausea, and shook his hands.

"Well, that's all, Severus. I'll just trouble you for a while."

As he said that, he asked Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick to take the student who was still retching away and go to the infirmary quickly.

The health and safety of students always comes first, and this is what Professor Quirrell said the moment those things were discharged from her body.

It has been completely forgotten.

But Professor Snape's happiness didn't last long. The old man still held a grudge. After all, looking at the whole matter.

The old man had a feeling that Carl and Professor Snape had teamed up to set a trap for him.

So he came back halfway, unwilling to give in, looked at Professor Snape, and said with confidence.

"Oh, by the way, please send Professor Quirrell to the infirmary and clean up this classroom."

"After all, you still have to use this classroom."

After saying that, he quickly walked away. Snape, who was assigned to this task, had his cheeks twitching wildly.

Then, he looked at Karl with an extremely unfriendly look.

Karl ignored the other party, snorted coldly, and said disdainfully as he left the corridor.

"Why are you looking at me? The old man didn't ask me to clean up. This is not your class. You have no right to punish me."

"Take the time to consult your predecessor. He will be very helpful to you, dear professor."