Gurgle. Gurgle. Under the effect of the flesh-and-blood transformation technique, countless bubbles emerged from the blood in the test tube. Char stared intently at the scene, silently counting in his mind. The 257th modification test in three days. I hope this one achieves the effect I want.
When the bubbles finally subsided, Char closed his eyes and used his [Toxin] ability to sense the changes. Compared to his first attempts, the extent of the blood's transformation had far exceeded his expectations. He estimated that if he were to make this new toxin explode, it would be more than ten times stronger than the original. This was the incredible transformative effect of Dark Magic Transfiguration.
But when Char opened his eyes, there was still a hint of disappointment in them. The toxin was more potent, yes, but against the massive marine magical creatures he expected to face, its effect would probably still be limited. What he had hoped for was to utilize the extraordinary vitality in his own blood to create a toxin that specifically targeted super-strong vitality. He was close, but there was still a significant gap.
Three days had already passed, and Char couldn't help but feel a little anxious. The Blood Jade and the Pute fruit were both related to the advancement of his legendary life and legendary power. They were extremely important. And to get them, he had to explore the North Sea. If he went unprepared and was lucky enough not to encounter any real danger, fine. But if he did, it would be a very difficult situation. The one thing Char hated most was leaving his fate to luck.
Still not working? he thought, frustrated. Calm. Calm. Try again— He took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising anxiety in his mind. He poured the blood he had just drawn onto the parchment and was about to wave his wand for the 258th time when his eyes fell on the words Voldemort had left behind: Dark Magic Transfiguration requires a profane, twisted will.
Char paused. He stopped trying to calm himself. He stopped suppressing the anxiety, regret, and frustration of his repeated failures. Instead, he let them permeate his mind. Before, I was following Voldemort's instructions, but I was still trying to use rational will to achieve a twisted result. I always habitually stay calm when I cast spells. It's good for most magic, but it's a hindrance to dark magic. The emotions need to be negative. I shouldn't remain calm; I should let the emotions be more intense.
He began to recall all the times he had felt frustrated, powerless, angry, or desperate. Negative emotions flooded his heart. And as they did, the black-iron luster of his Dark Magic Transfiguration on his system panel grew more intense, a bronze sheen rapidly emerging from within. His wand was no longer moving with a rational rhythm, but shaking violently, as if he were venting his frustration.
Finally, when the negative emotions in his chest had built to a peak, he began tapping his wand frantically on the test tube of blood, growling, "Change for me. Change for me. Hurry up and change into what I want!"
A negative magical energy, unlike anything he had ever felt before, flowed from the tip of his wand into the test tube. This time, the blood reacted more violently than ever before, churning with countless bubbles like a volcanic eruption. When the bubbles finally subsided, Char was still gasping for breath, not yet recovered from the emotional outburst. After a moment, he carefully sensed the changes in the blood. And then, finally, a look of pure joy appeared in his eyes.
In a lavish mansion somewhere in the magical world, an owl flapped its wings and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet on a bedside table. The headline trumpeted the Ministry of Magic's full support for Hogwarts students' pioneering and entrepreneurial ventures, and how the Ministry under Fudge's leadership would do its utmost to improve the lives of the wizarding community. It was the biggest topic of discussion on the streets, Umbridge's death long forgotten. People everywhere were talking about applying for land reclamation permits.
But at that moment, a pair of resentful eyes were fixated on the name "Char Sprout" mentioned in the report. A bandaged arm grabbed the newspaper and began tearing it to shreds with a hysterical scream.
"Char Sprout! You damn bastard! You've ruined my reputation and my career, and now you can't have an easy time of it!"
A house-elf, hearing the noise, hurried over. "Mr. Charlemagne?! The healers at St. Mungo's said the damage from the Shadow Thorn hasn't healed yet! You can't move so violently for several months!"
At the mention of the Shadow Thorn, an extremely crazed look appeared in Porgy Charlemagne's eyes. "What did you say?! How dare you say that in front of me?!"
The house-elf shuddered, the color draining from his face. His lips trembled. "No, no—Mr. Charlemagne, Master, please forgive me—"
Porgy Charlemagne pulled a long, barbed whip from the bedside. Amid the house-elf's terrified cries, he grinned. "Don't hide." The master's contract made it impossible for the house-elf to disobey. He could only squat on the ground, holding his head and trembling. The whip came down hard, again and again, until the house-elf was a bloody mess, his breathing weak.
Porgy Charlemagne finally managed to vent some of his anger. But whenever he thought of Char, the madness and rage began to churn again. The last academic review at Hogwarts… because of Char, he had been almost beaten to death by Shadow Thorns and Devil's Snare. He had lain in a hospital bed for half a month. Now, the "Herbology Master" was a complete laughingstock. Even the journals for which he had been a contributor had stopped commissioning his articles. And it was all because of Char. His hatred was a bottomless well.
The thought that Char, with his incredible talent and now the full support of the Ministry, was on a sure path to becoming a master of Herbology was more painful to him than death. A venomous thought had been spreading in his mind for weeks. "Char Sprout. I want him dead. What's the use of a bright future if you're dead? I want to watch him die with my own eyes!"
Before, with Char safe in the castle, he had no chance. He had tried to post a bounty in Knockturn Alley, but the dark wizards, threatened by Snape, hadn't dared to accept. But now… Porgy Charlemagne clutched an old, ornate piccolo, a twisted expression on his face beneath the bandages.
"I got the news from Hogwarts. Char Sprout has been at sea a lot lately, exploring islands, looking for land. Very good, very good… then this piccolo, which cost me most of my savings, the one that can summon the legendary Kraken, will finally come in handy. On the vast ocean, the Kraken is an invincible monster. Even a dragon would be dragged into the sea and torn to pieces! Char Sprout, I want you to die at sea to wash away the humiliation I have suffered!" He drank a bottle of pain-relieving potion, then climbed onto a flying carpet and flew out of the castle.
Char carefully plugged the test tube. He had already tested the new toxin. It was something entirely new, a poison that, after an attack, could rapidly absorb vitality to fuel its own growth. The stronger the victim, the faster the toxin grew. Against an ordinary person, it would do little more than cause a headache and nausea. But against an elephant, a whale, or a creature with even more vigorous life force… the speed at which it would spread would be unimaginable.
Even Char's own blood couldn't withstand it. In less than five seconds, a sample had turned pitch black. Is this what my blood and Dark Magic Transfiguration can create? he thought, a new appreciation for the strange and dangerous power of the art dawning on him. But such a powerful toxin was perfect for dealing with the huge marine creatures of the North Sea. Even the legendary Kraken should be vulnerable. Its great size was its main defense, but its life force was not necessarily greater than his own.
With this new weapon, Char had an extra trump card. "Since it's a toxin that specifically targets large creatures with strong vitality," he decided, "I'll name it the [Giant Killer]."
His heart was now determined, his eyes resolute. He looked out at the sky. It was already evening. "That's enough delay. We can't wait any longer. Tonight, we explore the North Sea." He gave his equipment a final check, ensuring his Nimbus 2000 was in perfect condition, then flew out towards the sea, which was already stained blood-red by the setting sun.
After he left, Tonks followed from a distance. For the past three days, Char had not gone to sea, and she had taken the opportunity to rest. But she had found no new clues about Umbridge's death. The professors, especially Professor Sprout, were not happy with her investigation. And the Forbidden Forest was too vast to search on her own. So, she had returned her focus to Char. And today, after three days of inactivity, he had chosen to fly out to sea in the evening, taking a different route than before. This unusual behavior rekindled her hope that she might finally find a breakthrough.
In her haste, however, she didn't notice the dark shadow following her. Porgy Charlemagne, on his flying carpet, watched them both. When he saw Char flying toward the North Sea, a burst of ecstatic glee erupted in his heart. "The North Sea… at night? This is the Kraken's territory. As long as I blow the piccolo, it will come." A grim look settled on his face. Char is dying, he thought. And the woman following him? His bodyguard, no doubt. Anything related to Char… everyone must die! It never even occurred to him that Char might escape. A first-year wizard, at sea, against the Kraken? Even Dumbledore or the Dark Lord would have died. And when he's dead, he thought with a vicious smile, Pomona Sprout will surely come searching. Then… I'll give you a complete reunion!
At that moment, Char had already flown over the familiar sea area and was getting closer to the North Sea. Then, an island came into his sight, and his eyes suddenly lit up. "This is?!"