Scotland Highlands, on the shores of Loch Lomond, Lass town.

Most of the townspeople are elderly. As the only church in town, Sunday morning is always the busiest and most bustling time of the week. The usually empty church is filled with four or five rows of people at this time.

However, most of the townspeople ignore the middle-aged priest during the service, instead praying softly to themselves.

Benitez's denomination is Roman Catholic, which is strictly speaking a different branch of Christianity from the Church of England, which is prevalent in Britain. Perhaps there are some differences in the understanding of doctrine, but in real life, both Protestant saints and Catholic saints often visit each other's services.

This is very much in line with the simple stance of most believers—

What God approves of, they approve of, and they don't add human conditions outside of God's judgment.

In the eyes of those old people by Loch Lomond, the place where Protestants gather is the Protestant church, regardless of who actually owns the church or what the priest of the church believes in: Roman Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy.

The church is a place for prayer, as for Father Benitez?

A respectable tool.

People came one after another, greeted each other, completed the service on their own, and left silently. Throughout the entire process, there was almost no further verbal communication, except for nodding to Benitez as they arrived and left.

However, Father Benitez was already used to this.

"...Thank you, Lord Jesus, for listening to the prayers of the children before you, in the name of Christ Jesus, Amen!"

Benitez softly finished the closing prayer of the service, closed the Bible in his hand, and walked down from the pulpit.

Accompanied by the middle-aged priest's voice, the few latecomers in the church also completed their respective prayers, stood up, waved goodbye to Benitez in a friendly manner, and left the church with hats in hand and peaceful smiles.

In less than half a minute, the huge church became empty again.

Besides Father Jose Benitez, there was only one old man left, dressed in a light gray robe.

"You Muggles are really interesting, especially after learning about the magical world. I didn't expect you to still maintain such calm and continue to pray every day... The most interesting thing is that the things you pray for are a little different."

The old man grinned as he spoke, closed the newspaper in his hand, and looked at the middle-aged man who walked up to him.

"I really don't understand, you would rather believe in gods than believe in the existence of magic."

"Wizards don't give us bread, but if you express piety in the church, when the church's financial situation allows, we clergy will give bread to those who need relief... Of course, there are many reasons..."

Benitez shrugged, sat down beside the old man, looked at the stained glass of the church, and continued.

"Some people want to seek spiritual sustenance, some want to get help, some want their life trajectory to have evaluation... As for me, it's just a job—when I was at my lowest and most terrible, the Brotherhood took in a guy like me who was kicked out by the church priests, sent me to study, and finally I passed the exam to become a clergyman."

"If there really is a God, then He must be the people around us, not a statue in some doctrine. It's not that we don't believe in magic, but that we believe it has no meaning for us who have no talent."

Benitez looked at the old wizard sitting next to him, scratched his cheek, and sighed helplessly.

"Okay, Mr. Apocalis, what trouble did Elena get into again? You shouldn't just be here to chat with me, right?"

"Elena? She's been very obedient recently. Right now... well, she should be playing Quidditch on the pitch."

Grindelwald took out a pocket watch from his chest pocket, glanced at it, and replied casually.

Then, before Benitez could speak again, the old wizard raised the newspaper in his hand.

"I'm actually here to see you, Mr. Benitez. Do you have any plans to change to a new job?"

"Hmm? Change jobs?"

Benitez took the newspaper from the old wizard's hand and glanced at it.

《English Premier League—Pay TV Broadcasting, Greed? Innovation?》

This was the most eye-catching title on the front page. Benitez didn't need to open it to know what it was talking about.

With the official start of the Premier League last month, this controversial and bold pay-TV broadcast event has been a hot topic in newspapers for almost a month. Whether it's the alliance or the unprecedented TV broadcast... people watch critics condemn the greedy alliance while excitedly discussing the exciting high-quality games.

Under such social heat, the Premier League and Sky TV seized the opportunity to add a lot of marketing.

Advertising placements, league managers, scouts, venue security teams...

In this terrible period of global economic depression, this emerging league is rapidly expanding visibly, like a shooting star flying against the current. The booming job positions have greatly eased the British government's previous headaches.

"Sorry, Mr. Apocalis, I don't plan to apply for these positions..."

Benitez shook his head, folded the newspaper, returned it to the old wizard, and said with a smile.

"Perhaps the salary for these jobs is slightly higher than being a priest, and the prospects are much better, but if that's the case, I won't be able to take care of the children. Besides, a guy like me is more suitable to be a priest. I can't do complicated work."

"Oh, but I heard that girl say you quite like to watch that... um, football game?"

Grindelwald didn't reach out, but looked at Benitez with some curiosity.

"Young man, don't be too quick to refuse. You haven't even heard me finish what I have to say. How do you know what my suggestion is? If you can't bear to part with your current priest job, isn't it good to have an extra legitimate part-time job? For example..."

"Mr. Apocalis, really no need, you don't understand many things in the Muggle world..."

Benitez sighed helplessly, rubbed his forehead, and explained patiently.

During the month-long summer vacation, he encountered similar questions too many times. This old wizard from the "opposite world" clearly lacked many basic social common sense. In the old man's eyes, magic seemed to be omnipotent.

"...For example, how about the position of Chairman of the English Premier League Company?"

"...Job requirements and—huh?"

Benitez didn't have time to finish his sentence and looked at the old man next to him in confusion.

"Doesn't sound good? I also think it's a bit too simple. Then, CEO—that would involve public appearances, right?"

Grindelwald took out a document, looked at it, and muttered to himself thoughtfully.

"Right, Jose, which position name do you personally prefer? Look, we wizards can't figure out the twists and turns of your Muggle companies on our own. But the group and the bank have invested so much money, there has to be someone watching, right?"

"Uh, you wouldn't be saying—"

Benitez's eyes twitched, and his gaze quickly swept over a subtitle on the newspaper.

《Who exactly is the top mysterious investor in the Premier League?》

Something extremely absurd, but seemingly gradually reflected in reality, slowly emerged in the middle-aged man's mind. His vision began to drift uncontrollably towards the contract full of words in the old man's hand.

"Oh, I seemed to have forgotten to tell you that Gringotts Wizarding Bank is now the absolute controlling party of this football league."

Grindelwald glanced at the middle-aged priest next to him, a glint of light flashed in his eyes, and he said lightly.

"And our lovely Miss Elena Kaslana is now the Empress of Gringotts Wizarding Bank... in the true sense of the word, able to mobilize funds at any time, conduct various investments and financial transactions, the absolute controller."

"Sorry, cough cough... Mr. Apocalis, your story is a bit too—um—"

Benitez patted his cheeks, shook his head with a wry smile.

"In short, think about it carefully, Mr. Benitez."

Grindelwald put down the documents in his hand, stood up, and patted Jose Benitez on the shoulder.

"If nothing else goes wrong, those Muggle managers and officials should already be on their way. You have roughly one day to think about it. Their contact information is in the back. I believe you should use that... um, telephone."

"Uh, no, this..."

Benitez looked at the stack of documents in his hand somewhat blankly.

Apart from an empty signature, it looked quite decent, like a real letter of appointment and authorization.

"This is just a beginning, Mr. Benitez, look closely, learn well."

Grindelwald grinned, smiled meaningfully, and said.

"In our world, Elena is also planning to create an alliance for 'Quidditch League', but due to a lack of relevant experience and professional talents, it can only be shelved for now—didn't you always want to see that world? I think with your current work experience, the Ministry of Magic's review will be much easier..."

"Oh, by the way, there will be a young man named Frang coming over later, that's the personal assistant the girl arranged for you."

Grindelwald blinked nimbly and added casually.

"Don't worry, he's a well-trained negotiation expert. With his help, I believe you should be able to successfully complete the dialogue with those Muggle managers and adapt to your new identity in a short period of time—even if there are problems that can't be solved, he should ask for help—of course, you can also write to ask that girl for more details."

The old wizard took his hat in his left hand, raised it elegantly, and said with a smile.

"So, happy weekend? My son."

*Pop.*

The next moment, Grindelwald apparated directly out of the church.

"Hey? Wait—I didn't agree to this!"

Benitez looked at the empty church and shouted angrily.

It's been so long, why hasn't this stubborn old wizard given up on this matter?!

But……

Benitez looked at the stack of documents piled up on the old man's previous seat, rubbed his temples with a complicated expression.

That little girl Elena is going to magic school, how come she's only been studying for a year, and has become the owner of the wizard bank without a sound, and even invested in the Premier League company... this is simply...

Looks like he needs to have a good chat with that kid this Christmas.

…………

Meanwhile, Hogwarts School Great Hall.

"Hey, Danny, you need to eat more—flying in the sky is quite exhausting."

Hannah spread a thick layer of strawberry jam on a slice of bread and handed it to Danilova's plate.

The Quidditch assessment at Hogwarts is not an easy thing. Due to different positions and talents, in order to maximize the potential of each person, it is common to test all the relevant flying positions.

For example, as Hufflepuff's star rookie this year, Hannah will participate in all tests except for Seeker.

"That's enough, Hannah, are you trying to make Danny throw up on the broom?"

Luna glared at Hannah for once and said irritably.

"Besides, our first-year team is originally ranked ahead of all the teams. Eating less might make you more agile in the sky. It's not like everyone is like you and Elena, the more you eat, the better you perform."

"I suggest you pack some food to the pitch, they'll be tired today—"

Hermione put down her *Quidditch Weekly* and said seriously.

"After all the teams are formed, the freshman team will have a qualifying match against a temporary team randomly composed of returning graduates—although it is instructional, it cannot be ruled out that they will lose their qualifications due to poor performance."

"Qualifying match? How come I haven't heard of this?"

Hannah frowned, the smoked sausage hanging in the air, looking at Hermione suspiciously.

A silver "A" glittered on the girl's chest, which was the emblem of the Hogwarts freshman team.

Compared to the other wizards who were still waiting for the assessment, Hermione Granger was the first student to determine the team, but her identity was the head coach of the Hogwarts freshman team, rather than a player flying on the pitch.

"It's normal, because it was decided temporarily this morning... Ravenclaw dropped out, didn't you hear?"

Elena said casually, putting down the half-eaten honey bread and taking a big gulp of hot milk.

"They don't seem to be able to gather the minimum number of participants. In this case, the freshman team this year will not be an extra slot like last year, but a formal team participating in the Quidditch House Cup competition... Therefore, Madam Hooch and Professor Dumbledore seem to be considering whether to open free team formation in Hogwarts."

"Of course, the premise is that the freshmen's performance is too bad... Then maybe let the graduates temporarily fill the vacancies."

Elena said, nodding towards the Gryffindor table next door.

"Gryffindor's Charlie Weasley, if nothing goes wrong, Luna, your opponent today should be him... As for the positions of the other graduates, I don't know too well. The only thing I know is that they fly well, and they were all the main players of the Quidditch teams of various houses when they were at school... But don't worry, their team's problems are much bigger than yours."

"Because of the combination of the four houses? I understand..."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully and said softly.

As the first designated head coach of the freshman team, or the entire Hogwarts, what the final qualifying match today will test is not just the freshmen—if she cannot submit a qualified answer, she will also lose her qualification.

Ever since she heard this news from Elena, she has been thinking about how to fight against opponents like an all-star lineup.

However, now she seems to have some ideas.

The rest is to go to the Quidditch pitch later to see the performance of the other freshmen, as well as their ability to execute and understand tactics, and then make follow-up arrangements—Quidditch is never a one-person game.

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Yay!