After leaving Grindelwald's study, Kyle had been pondering the issue of Human Transfiguration.
Professor McGonagall had mentioned in her Transfiguration class that incomplete transfiguration was usually accompanied by terrible consequences.
The Quintapeds living on the Isle of Drear at the northernmost tip of Scotland were the result of wizards performing Human Transfiguration on themselves. They lost their human forms and their sanity, confined to the island for their entire lives as highly dangerous magical beasts.
Tracing back further, there were the Sirens and Harpies born in ancient Greece. These were all results of failed Human Transfiguration.
The reason Human Transfiguration was dangerous was that it involved changes at the cellular level. A wizard performing transfiguration on themselves was essentially converting their own human cells into those of another creature.
This is what is known as an Animagus.
But Kyle was thinking, what if his human transfiguration didn't involve modifying his cells?
Shape changes between the same type of matter were considered the simplest category of Transfiguration.
If he simply adjusted his skeleton, muscles, and skin, was it possible to take on another person's appearance without drinking Polyjuice Potion?
That's right, this was the Transformation Technique, one of the Three Basic Jutsu.
And on the foundation of the Transformation Technique, he could develop the legendary Forbidden Jutsu—the Sexy Technique.
If he were to transform into Grindelwald while sparring with Dumbledore—specifically the classic Sexy Technique version...
He wondered if Dumbledore would still be able to attack.
Forget it, better not ask for a death wish.
Even if Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, he could tell Grindelwald exactly what happened. If that actually happened, Kyle felt he probably wouldn't live to see the sun rise the next day.
However, research into the Transformation Technique would have to be put on hold for now.
Kyle pulled a small memo pad from his pocket and jotted down the research ideas he had just come up with regarding the technique on a blank page at the back.
The earlier pages of the memo pad contained more content, but the completed items had already been crossed out.
As for the remaining uncrossed items, the one at the very top was Nature Transformation of magic power.
Kyle was currently only proficient in transforming Shadow magic. For other attributes like Fire, he still had to spend a long time building it up before he could squeeze it out, just like Naruto when he first mastered Sage Mode.
In actual combat, there wouldn't be that much time for him to charge up a big move; enemies weren't idiots.
The second item was the research on the Flying Thunder God formula. This was also the thing Kyle wanted to complete most at the moment.
He even had the Hokage cloak ready; he couldn't just fail to master the Flying Thunder God Technique forever, right?
In the time that followed, Kyle returned to a state akin to secluded cultivation.
Every day, he was either researching his projects or getting beaten up by the two old men at home.
In his remaining free time, Kyle the Casanova wrote letters to the three girls—Hannah, Hermione, and Konan—to bond with them.
As for George, who still owed him a suit of armor, as well as Fred and Cedric, he had completely thrown them to the back of his mind.
What was there for a bunch of guys to write about?
Meanwhile, our Savior, Harry, was suffering at his uncle's house.
Since returning home for the holidays, Harry's uncle, Vernon, had locked Harry's spellbooks, wand, robes, cauldron, and broomstick—all that messy stuff—into the small, dark cupboard under the stairs.
Even Harry's owl, Hathaway, was locked in her cage and hadn't been let out for a moment.
Harry had agreed to write to Ron and Hermione over the summer, but after returning home, he had absolutely no chance to let Hathaway deliver any letters.
Strangely, it had been almost a month since the holidays began, and he hadn't received a single letter from his friends.
Today was Harry's birthday. He didn't expect his uncle's family to remember it at all.
Vernon Dursley had been busy lately with an order for drills. On Harry's birthday, Harry was warned by Vernon not to make the slightest noise while he was discussing business.
As a result, that evening, while Vernon was discussing business, a house-elf claiming to be Dobby—who knew whose family he belonged to—smashed a pudding onto the head of Vernon's business client.
Oh boy, he was done for.
Harry not only received a warning letter from the Ministry of Magic but also exposed the fact to the Dursleys that he couldn't use magic outside of school during the holidays.
Then Harry's life turned into a tragedy.
He was locked in his room by Vernon; prisoners in jail were treated better than him.
The situation continued until the third night, when a tank shell blew the roof off Vernon's house.
"Damn it! What's going on?!"
Vernon's roar rang out from downstairs, along with the screams of Petunia and Dudley.
Harry, who had also been awakened by the sound of the tank firing, looked through the iron bars on his window and saw that freckled face, red hair, and long nose.
Ron's image in his mind had never been taller than it was right now.
"Harry, get back!" Ron leaned half his body out of the tank's hatch and waved at Harry.
The Savior stared blankly and obeyed.
The next second, the Centurion Star Destroyer smashed directly through his bedroom wall, crushing all the furniture in his room to powder, and finally stopped in the center of the floor.
Fortunately, Hathaway's cage wasn't placed against the wall, otherwise Harry might have had to get a new pet.
Thud thud thud!
Vernon's heavy footsteps snapped Harry out of his stupor.
"You guys go! Uncle Vernon is coming up!"
Another red-headed figure popped out of the hatch. "Don't worry, Harry."
Unable to tell if it was George or Fred, he patted the tank cannon on their vehicle, making a clanging sound. "We have this."
As soon as the words fell, Vernon, like a furious bull, forcefully rammed open Harry's bedroom door.
For a moment, Uncle Vernon froze in the doorway.
What was he seeing?
A ferocious-looking army-green tank was parked in the center of his nephew's room, its cannon pointed right at his forehead.
The muzzle of the barrel still held the residual heat from the shot just fired.
Vernon instantly collapsed to the ground.
According to his understanding, weren't wizards supposed to hold wands and go pew pew pew at each other?
What was with driving a tank?
He crawled backward in terror, wanting to leave this nightmarish place.
"Sir, I advise you not to make any sudden moves," Fred said indifferently. "Our gunner's finger is right on the firing button. No one can guarantee his hand won't slip."
Facing a life-threatening danger at such close range, Vernon decisively chose to succumb to cowardice.
He didn't dare say a single word, terrified that the steel beast in front of him would open fire the next second.
"Harry, go get your luggage," Ron said.
"But it's all locked in the cupboard under the stairs..."
"Don't worry." Fred handed Harry a lump of white clay. "Stick this on the cupboard door. Remember to stand back."
A moment later, an explosion rang out from downstairs, instantly causing Vernon to howl loudly in fright.
He thought the tank cannon in front of him had fired.
The smell of urine permeated the room.
Vernon had wet himself in fear.
Everything in Harry's room had been crushed to smithereens, so he had nothing to pack.
After hauling his magical things out of the cupboard under the stairs, with Ron's help, Harry climbed onto the Centurion Star Destroyer.
"See you next summer!" Harry shouted at his uncle before dropping into the cabin.
After he spoke, Harry ducked inside, and Fred shifted the gear into reverse, slamming on the gas.
The tank reversed quickly out of Harry's room. After executing a beautiful drift turn in mid-air, it carried the four young wizards and charged toward the moon.
Harry still wore an expression of disbelief. He was actually free.
And it was the three Weasley brothers driving a tank, smashing through Vernon's house, who had come to pick him up.
He hadn't dared to even dream of something so crazy.
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