On the first floor, in a dim little room sparsely furnished with only a shabby wardrobe and a small iron cot, the space felt stark and bare.
In the gloomy corner before the bed, Tom sat on a gray blanket, his gaze fixed intently upon his right hand.
And twined around his right hand was a small green snake.
"Hiss, hiss, hiss..."
From Tom's throat came the continuous sound of a serpent's hiss.
Yet the little snake seemed to understand him, nodding with almost human comprehension.
A moment later, the little snake slithered down from Tom's hand, crawled out through the narrow window, and quickly vanished from sight.
"Vivid... what on earth is the secret to your strength? I'll soon have my answer... Whatever you can do, I can do as well!"
Watching the direction where the little snake had vanished, Tom clenched his fists in silence.
...
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Thud!"
A gray rat dropped straight down from the window sill, stiff as a board.
Vivid picked up a green stick from beside him and poked it, feeling as though he were prodding a stone.
Vivid pondered for a moment, then made a simple gesture with his hand.
"Finite Incantatem!"
"Squeak!"
The gray rat, previously as hard as rock, came back to life. It sprang fiercely up from the floor and bolted away like a mad thing.
Yet, with so little furniture in the room, the gray rat had nowhere to hide and could only rush repeatedly at the half-meter-high window sill.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Squeak!"
"Finite Incantatem!"
"Squeak..."
...
After being put through this torment a dozen or so times, the gray rat stopped running altogether.
It simply lay in the corner, legs up in the air, playing dead.
Vivid paid the rat no further heed and instead resumed browsing through the spell book in his hand.
Sure enough, practicing offensive spells like this required a living target to be truly effective.
Yet what puzzled Vivid was this: no matter how great his natural talent, could practicing a dozen times really enable him to successfully cast a reasonably difficult spell without a wand?
This learning speed was simply too fast!
Moreover, when facing Tom's attack the other day, Vivid had discovered that his magical onslaught felt like nothing more than a gentle breeze against his skin...
Let alone posing a threat, it wasn't even strong enough to serve as a fan...
According to the book, there was only one reason for such a phenomenon: a vast disparity in the strength of their magic, which had little to do with practice.
Logically speaking, this shouldn't have happened; Tom was the future Dark Lord, and his talent was undoubtedly extraordinary.
At the same age, even if his own talent surpassed Tom's, it shouldn't have reached the point of utter suppression.
Ultimately, Vivid found the answer in the section of the spell book detailing the principles of magic.
[...As a wizard grows older, the intensity of their magic also increases, reaching a theoretical limit upon reaching adulthood. If one neglects practice, or refuses to use magic for other reasons, the strength of their magic will wane or even vanish entirely... According to research, the strength of a wizard's magic is also linked to the strength of their soul...]
Having finished browsing, Vivid recalled a certain fact: he was not truly Tom's peer in age.
In reality, after crossing over into this world, only his physical body had grown younger. His actual age was already that of an adult! Thus, the strength of his soul was very likely still that of an adult's soul.
From this, Vivid formed a preliminary hypothesis: the magical strength he now possessed had already reached the level of an adult wizard!
Fighting an underage Tom meant that no matter how gifted Tom was, it was essentially an adult beating a child... It was hard not to crush him utterly.
"Then... can my magical strength continue to grow naturally? If it cannot grow naturally, is there a way to break through this bottleneck?"
Vivid was not particularly anxious about this question. As once the youngest biologist, figuring out how to break through human limits had been his primary research topic before crossing over.
Only now, the subject of his study had simply shifted from ordinary humans to wizards...
...
Tom turned the pages of the book in his hands listlessly, though his gaze never truly rested on the text.
In truth, the little snake he had sent out had still not returned, making him increasingly restless.
He knew very well that whenever Vivid closed his bedroom door, it meant he was conducting his secret practices.
Tom had sent a snake to spy, intending for it to report back with what it saw so that he might catch a glimpse of the secret behind Vivid's growing strength.
Yet now, the snake that should have returned long ago was nowhere to be seen...
An hour later, Tom could wait no longer. Taking a deep breath, he walked toward Vivid's room.
Vivid's room was on the second floor.
As soon as Tom walked up, he saw Vivid's door.
To his surprise, the door was left ajar! As if waiting for someone...
Suppressing his nervous imagination, Tom slowly pushed the door open.
He saw Vivid gently poking a gray rat on the floor with a green stick.
Yet... Tom suddenly felt that stick looked somewhat familiar?
Vivid turned his head, catching sight of Tom peering in through the doorway, a gentle smile involuntarily blooming on his face.
Merit points have arrived...
"Tom, you're here! I was just about to tell you, I've discovered a rather interesting use for our special ability."
Only when Vivid stood up did Tom realize why he had found the stick in Vivid's hand so familiar...
It was unmistakably a small snake that had somehow become stiff as a board!
Tom's hanging heart finally shattered completely...
"Ding! Detected that the host has caused a slight deviation in the life trajectory of the future Dark Lord, rewarding the host with 100 merit points!"
Vivid: ?
...
Hogwarts.
A roaring fireplace kept the circular headmaster's office warm as spring.
"Armando, I happen to be heading to London. Leave these two children to me." Dumbledore jingled the two letters in his hand.
"Oh, of course, no problem..." Dippet sat behind his expansive desk, stroking his somewhat disheveled white beard, his cloudy gaze turning toward Dumbledore. "Has it been confirmed? Has he really come to London?"
"Not yet confirmed, merely indicated by certain signs. But... you know, I cannot take any news concerning him lightly... Besides, this time the source is exceptionally reliable." Dumbledore carefully slipped the two envelopes into his coat pocket.
"Mm... Scamander wrote to tell you, didn't he? Back then, he didn't quite graduate normally from Hogwarts..." Dippet asked rather offhandedly.
"Yes... But I assure you, Armando, Newt is entirely trustworthy. Furthermore, his capabilities are truly plain for all to see." Dumbledore said with earnest earnestness.
"Mr. Scamander has indeed proven his ability and stance through his actions; I harbor no distrust toward him. I have always trusted your eye for people. So... the chances are high that he really has gone to London. Then, have you made preparations?"
Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Of course, I made preparations to face him long ago. It's just that over these past few years, his whereabouts have grown very covert, and he has not appeared before me again."
"Good, I am glad you have reached a final resolution... If you need help, just say the word. Though I am somewhat older, I am not yet so feeble that I cannot wield a wand..."
"I will, Armando... And thank you so much for your understanding and help all these years."
"Enough of this sentimentality; you would manage well enough without my help. Go on, go to London, and bring a thorough end to all of this... Naturally, once matters are concluded, don't forget to deliver the acceptance letters to those two children. They are both at the same Muggle orphanage, and require a professor to visit in person to explain the situation."