If he had been given a choice, Louis would much rather have gone to Hogwarts to face a troll or even Voldemort than remain in this apocalyptic world where mere survival was a daily struggle.
But, since he was already here...
As a transmigrator with an adult soul, he understood one thing very clearly, complaining was the most useless emotion in this world.
What mattered now was only one thing.
Survive.
Louis lowered his head and looked once more at the vintage suitcase in his arms.
This was his reliance, and also his greatest secret.
He carefully rearranged the contents inside, his mind working at an unprecedented speed as he began to outline a blueprint for survival.
First and foremost, the most critical point:
His magic had not disappeared during this bizarre second transmigration.
The faint warmth that resonated with his blood when his fingers touched the wand earlier, and the smooth, liquid-like sensation of the invisibility cloak, were undeniable proof.
This meant that although he was currently a "semi-Muggle" who didn't know a single spell, he possessed infinite potential.
As long as magic existed, he could learn.
As long as he could learn, he could change his fate.
Second came the assessment of his current assets.
The ebony wand was the source of his future power, but for now, its practical use was extremely limited.
The first-year textbooks, especially The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, would become his "bible" for the foreseeable future.
And then there was the invisibility cloak.
Louis's eyes brightened slightly.
This high-end item, one he had originally begged his parents to buy so he could sneak around Hogwarts at night, had now become the most valuable lifeline he possessed in the apocalypse.
The Walkers' senses of sight and hearing were sharp. Although this cloak couldn't compare to that Deathly Hallow, it might still be capable of concealing his presence from a Walker's vision, or even its sense of smell.
In theory, as long as he was careful enough, wearing the cloak would allow him to move through the city like a ghost: scouting, evading, and surviving unseen.
However...
Whether it was his magic or the existence of the invisibility cloak, he absolutely, absolutely could not let a second person know.
Louis's gaze turned solemn.
The reason was simple.
In a world where order had collapsed and morality had rotted away, anyone capable of doing things beyond normal understanding would not be viewed as a miracle, but as a monster.
Fear bred hostility.
And an object that could make someone vanish into thin air would be an irresistible temptation to any survivor.
If exposed, he, an eleven-year-old boy with no real strength, would only be stripped of everything he had, or worse, cut open and studied like a specimen.
Therefore, until he possessed enough power to protect himself, he had to disguise himself as an ordinary, harmless, even somewhat weak child.
Only then could he lower others' guard.
Once his thoughts were roughly organized, the tight knot in Louis's chest loosened slightly.
The next priority was clear.
He needed information, especially from the seemingly upright Officer Shane.
More specifically, the exact point in time.
That alone would determine every plan he made going forward.
Before long, footsteps echoed from the stairwell.
Shane descended with a serious expression, carrying two bottles of water and an unopened chocolate bar.
"It's temporarily safe upstairs. I checked, those things aren't there," he said, handing the water and chocolate to Louis. "Eat and drink first. We need to move as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Officer Shane," Louis said softly, obediently accepting them.
Shane looked at the small figure before him, dusty, pale, yet still delicate. For some reason, he thought of Carl.
His heart softened, and his tone became noticeably gentler.
"You're welcome, kid. What's your name? How did you end up alone out there?"
"My name is Louis. Louis Green."
He used his mother's surname.
Louis looked up at Shane, his blue eyes carrying just the right amount of fear and confusion.
"I hit my head earlier, and a lot of things are fuzzy. I only remember getting separated from the others. I went out to look for food, but I didn't expect…"
He trailed off.
The lingering terror on his face said the rest.
It was a perfectly reasonable explanation, especially with the conspicuous bruise on his forehead. The suspicion in Shane's eyes faded considerably.
Shane had initially thought the kid had been scared out of his wits. He hadn't expected Louis to have gone out on his own to look for supplies.
At that thought, the tight knot in the deputy sheriff's chest finally loosened a little.
Shane had only just escaped from the hospital, where he had witnessed the military firing on civilians without hesitation.
When he fled, he already knew the truth, his brother, lying unconscious on that hospital bed, was far more likely dead than alive.
Before everything collapsed, Shane had promised to look after his brother's family.
And now?
Now he was trapped in the middle of hell with an unfamiliar child tagging along.
Every minute wasted here could mean his brother's wife and son were in danger.
Yet when Shane looked into Louis's clear blue eyes, eyes filled with fear, yet still steady, he ultimately suppressed the irritation rising in his heart.
After all, he was a police officer.
Protecting civilians was his duty.
"You're very brave, Louis," Shane said, his voice softening. "But you can't be this reckless again. Not ever."
Louis lowered his head slightly and asked in a quiet voice,
"Officer Shane, will someone come to save us?"
"They will." Shane answered without hesitation, as if he were trying to convince himself. "The military is setting up safe zones. As for your parents…"
He paused briefly before continuing.
"Don't worry. They're probably waiting for you somewhere safe. We'll find them."
It was a lie.
One he didn't even believe himself.
But he told it smoothly, instinctively, offering the boy the only comfort he could.
Louis responded exactly as a child should.
His eyes reddened slightly, but he stubbornly refused to cry, nodding hard instead.
That forced composure reminded Shane painfully of his best friend's son.
Carl.
Only then did Shane truly realize that the boy named Louis was much like Carl, far calmer and sharper than most kids his age.
"Thank you, Officer," Louis said after taking a sip of water. Then, as if casually, he added,
"After I hit my head, I've been a little confused about time. When did this terrible 'flu' start?"
"Not long ago," Shane replied after thinking for a moment. "Maybe, just a few days. Everything went bad really fast. I was at the hospital with my partner back then. By the time I came out, the world was already like this."
Before the main plot even begins!
Louis's heart skipped a beat, though his expression didn't change at all.
This was the best possible news.
It meant he still had time, time to learn magic, time to prepare, maybe even time to find himself a safe and reliable "nanny team."
"We need to move," Shane said, standing up and listening intently to the sounds outside. "After dark, those things get more active. We have to find a safe place before sunset."
"No problem, Officer." Louis rose immediately, tightened the cap on the water bottle, and slipped the unfinished chocolate bar into his pocket, looking extremely cooperative.
His obedience and sensibility earned him another point in Shane's eyes.
In this godforsaken apocalypse, encountering a kid who didn't cry, scream, or make trouble, and knew how to cooperate, was a rare relief.
However, just as they were about to leave through the back door...
A shrill cry suddenly echoed from the street outside.
"Help! Is anyone there?! Save me! My leg's injured!"
It was a man's voice, filled with pain and desperation.
Louis's heart tightened. Instinctively, he leaned toward the door.
"Don't move." Shane immediately pulled him behind himself, lowered his body, and cautiously approached a grimy window, peering toward the source of the sound.
Outside, a man in a jacket staggered down the street, dragging a bleeding leg.
Three… no, four Walkers followed closely behind him.
Shane's brow furrowed deeply. The veins on the hand gripping his revolver stood out.
Reason told him the truth.
He could barely protect himself as it was, and he was responsible for a child.
He couldn't afford complications.
But watching a living person being chased to death made his sense of justice scream in protest.
At that moment of hesitation, the injured man spotted the office building.
Like a drowning man grasping at the last straw, he rushed toward it with everything he had.
"Hey! There's someone inside! I saw you!"
"Open the door! Let me in!"
His shouts rang out like a death knell.
"Oh no…"
Shane's expression darkened instantly.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath.
They'd been spotted.