During this time, Louis copied and photographed everything, finally making a "backup" of all the precious magic books in his trunk. He then stored them safely and buried them, considering it an extra layer of insurance.
After completing this necessary task, he devoted more of his energy to actual magic practice.
The results... how should he put it?
First, the good news.
Through unremitting effort, he finally succeeded in mastering "Lumos."
Although the brightness was somewhat unstable—at times like a searchlight and at others like a firefly—it could at least be used as a flashlight.
Immediately following that, he unexpectedly "conquered" an offensive magic spell with a very personal touch.
Louis grandly named it—"A Single Spark Can Start a Prairie Fire."
Well, in reality, it was just a severely weakened version of "Incendio."
Because for some unknown reason, no matter how he waved his wand or adjusted his emotions, the tip of the wand could only spray out a few pathetic sparks; its ignition efficiency couldn't even match a matchstick.
However, looking at those few orange-red spots of light that vanished in an instant in the air, Louis was not discouraged. Instead, he savored a bit of philosophy from it.
As the saying goes, "A Single Spark Can Start a Prairie Fire!"
Thinking about it this way, how was this a failure? This was clearly an auspicious omen of great luck!
Louis comforted himself quite optimistically.
Counting the previous Wingardium Leviosa, Scourgify, Aguamenti, and Episkey, plus the Revealing Spell that unexpectedly succeeded on the trunk, and Lumos... looking at it this way, the number of spells he had mastered had already reached a staggering seven!
Among them was even a Wingardium Leviosa that could be cast without a wand and was as natural as using his own arm. Compared to the "Muggle" who could only stare and worry when he first transmigrated, he was now fully upgraded.
"At this rate..."
Louis lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling, thinking happily, "Rounding it off, I'm only about a hundred or so spells away from becoming a Great Wizard like Dumbledore!"
On the back of the chair by the bed, the owl chick named Robin pricked up its pointed ears, blinked, and let out a timely string of soft trills, as if seriously echoing him.
Louis casually scratched its warm red chin and said earnestly, "You need to step up your game too, Robin."
"As a Wizard's owl, your goal can't just stop at catching mice."
"In the future, guarding, scouting, or sending letters across states will all depend on you. We must strive to surpass Hedwig and aim to be a legendary owl who has seen the world, understand?"
Whether it understood this grand blueprint or not, Robin's gaze became a bit dazed, but in the end, under Louis's expectant gaze, it cooed twice hesitantly, which counted as agreement.
Just as this person and bird were immersed in beautiful fantasies of the future—
"Knock, knock, knock!"
A sudden commotion from downstairs ruthlessly interrupted their beautiful dream.
"Louis, are you there?"
Sophia's voice came from outside the door, "Uncle Rick wants everyone to gather in the living room downstairs. He says Dr. Jenner has something important to announce."
...A few minutes later, the spacious living room of the farmhouse was crowded with people.
Rick and the others, along with Hershel's family, were all gathered here. Everyone's eyes were focused on Dr. Jenner, who stood in the center.
Dr. Jenner stood before the fireplace, holding a prepared handwritten report in his hand.
He took a deep breath, glanced at Rick standing beside him, and after receiving an affirmative nod from the other, he finally spoke.
"Everyone, during this time since the world collapsed, we have been looking for the reason, searching for the source that turns dead people into monsters."
Dr. Jenner's voice was a bit raspy, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.
"In my final days at the CDC, I analyzed a large number of samples. And the results were not ideal."
He paused for a moment and dropped the cruel truth:
"We... are all infected."
"What?!"
"That's impossible! I've never been bitten!"
Exclamations and doubts rose one after another.
Dr. Jenner raised his hand, suppressing the noise of the crowd, and then explained everything related to the walker virus in detail.
A sense of unease was like ice water pouring down, instantly soaking everyone present.
Just as panic was about to spread, Dr. Jenner followed the script previously discussed with Rick and Louis, and shifted the topic.
"But!"
He raised his voice, "This doesn't mean we are without hope."
"Before leaving the CDC, I had already made some progress in this field!"
"Although we can't yet completely eliminate the latent virus in our bodies, I am developing a new type of serum!"
He looked at everyone's brightening eyes and continued to up the ante: "This serum, theoretically, can inhibit the speed of the virus being activated to a certain extent, and might even delay the onset of the virus!"
"Of course, nothing is completely certain yet. Everything will have to wait until we find proper equipment and a safe environment."
In these words, three parts were true and seven parts were false.
The so-called "serum" was merely a life-saving straw woven for the desperate crowd under the premise of covering up Louis's secret.
But for a drowning person, even a straw is hope.
"Is it true?!"
Hershel, who had been silent all along, suddenly stood up.
The old man's hands were trembling violently, and in those aged eyes, a startling light suddenly burst forth.
"Doctor, are you serious? Can it really be cured?!" Hershel rushed to Dr. Jenner and grabbed his arm tightly, "What about the patients who have already turned?! They can recover too, right?!"
Dr. Jenner was stunned for a moment; he hadn't expected Hershel's reaction to be so intense.
To these questions, he could only nod vaguely: "Although theoretically, as long as the brain structure is not completely necrotic, a tiny spark of life exists, but..."
"Thank God! I knew it! I knew it!"
Hershel didn't care at all about those "theories" or "tiny" chances; he only heard the words he wanted to hear: spark of life.
He made the sign of the cross on his chest and abruptly turned to look at Maggie, his voice trembling:
"Did you hear that? They can still come back!"
"Just wait for the cure... just wait for the doctor to research that serum..." he muttered to himself, as if he had already seen the scene of his wife coming back to life.
Rick frowned; he keenly sensed something wrong in Hershel's words.
"Wait, Mr. Hershel."
Shane stepped out from the crowd, squinting his eyes as he looked Hershel up and down with a scrutinizing gaze, "What are you talking about?"
Hershel's expression changed, and he pursed his lips, seemingly realizing he had misspoke.
But Shane continued to press him, like a shark that had caught the scent of blood: "Are there any other patients here that we don't know about?"
"That has nothing to do with you." Hershel still didn't want to answer, but Maggie could no longer hold back.
"Enough! Dad!"
Maggie stood up from the sofa. Looking at her father who was still deceiving himself, her eyes were filled with tears, but also burned with anger.
"Stop lying to yourself! There is no cure that can bring the dead back to life!"
"Do you want to know why he hasn't let you get close to that place?!" She raised her hand and pointed toward the eerie Barn outside the window:
"Because what's locked in there are all Walkers!!"