The canoe gently ran aground on the pebbled shore of the island.
Ignoring her injured left hand, Long Jiu braced herself against the gunwale with her right hand and leaped nimbly onto the muddy shore.
Slipping a willow-leaf throwing knife into her right hand, she locked her gaze on a piece of driftwood lying near the water’s edge.
“Be careful. Something’s there.”
The piece of driftwood squirmed slightly, revealing a pair of cloudy yellow eyes.
It was a Dugbog.
It lay quietly in the pile of rotting leaves, its long, webbed claws digging into the mud, its grayish-brown skin blending perfectly with the surroundings.
Hermione took a deep breath, drew her wand, and strode out of the canoe.
“Watch Professor Newt and Frey, I’ll handle this thing. I, Hermione Granger, am Professor Newt’s student, not some bookworm who only knows how to copy texts.”
Long Jiu frowned.
“Are you sure? Its tongue shoots out fast, and its claws are sharp.”
“Let it try.” Hermione raised her wand, lowered her center of gravity slightly, and began to circle the Dugbog.
Her eyes remained locked on the Dugbog’s head, her fingers gripping her wand tightly as her mind raced through every line of *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*: *Dugbog, XXX-class dangerous beast…*
Provoked by the circling human, the Dugbog suddenly snapped open its wide mouth, which was filled with sharp, jagged teeth.
A long, pink tongue slick with foul-smelling mucus shot toward Hermione’s right leg.
Hermione neither retreated nor dodged.
With a flick and a swish of her wand, her voice rang out crisp and clear over the shore: “Wingardium Leviosa!”
The accuracy and timing of the Levitation Charm were flawless.
Her wand traced an incredibly precise, tiny arc, catching the long tongue right as it whipped through midair.
Because its tongue was suspended in the air, the Dugbog’s bulky body was yanked comically upright, its four short legs flailing helplessly.
“Glacius!”
White frost instantly encased the suspended tongue.
Immediately after, Hermione slashed her wand downward: “Diffindo!”
A red light flashed.
With a clean *crack*, the frozen tongue shattered and snapped.
The residual force of the Severing Charm carried on, plunging straight through the Dugbog’s open mouth and into its chest cavity.
The Dugbog slammed heavily onto the grass, thick blood spraying outward.
It twitched twice and fell still.
Sitting in the canoe, Newt clapped weakly.
“Splendidly done, Hermione. Suspending the tongue before using a Severing Charm—that’s a textbook response. Adding a Freezing Charm to make the tongue brittle was an exceptionally clever touch. I’ll consider adding this combination as an advanced tactic for dealing with Dugbogs in the next edition of the book.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
As she walked back, some of the tension on her face dissipated.
A flash of cold light shot past Hermione’s ear.
The sharp whistling sound of wind slicing through the air broke Hermione into a cold sweat.
Freezing in place, she looked back to see a venomous snake, which had been preparing to ambush her from behind a tree, pinned dead to the trunk by the throwing knife, its head still twitching.
Long Jiu stepped forward, yanked the knife out, and wiped the blood off on the grass.
“Did I scare you? It was hiding under the leaves, and I didn’t have time to warn you.”
Hermione stared at the snake, which had been less than half a meter from the back of her head, then at Long Jiu’s shoulder wound, which had reopened and was bleeding.
She patted her chest in lingering fear.
“I’m fine… Thank you, Long Jiu.”
Just then, a grayish-brown burl on the bow of the boat suddenly wiggled.
The Mimic Pygmy Marmoset, which had been curled into a tight ball, reverted to its monkey form.
Limping over, it hopped onto Hermione’s shoulder, grabbed her hair, and pointed toward several moss-covered boulders at the center of the island.
“Do you want to go there, Specs?” Hermione asked.
“Follow it and see. Keep a sharp eye on our surroundings,” Newt said, bracing himself against the gunwale to stand up.
Specs leaped onto the pile of boulders, eagerly clawing away a thick layer of pale gray lichen.
It grabbed a handful of the lichen, stuffed it into its mouth and chewed vigorously before spitting the grayish-green paste onto its completely gray hind leg.
“Squeak!”
Specs let out a piercing shriek, its fine fur standing completely on end as its tiny body shook like a leaf.
Yet, to their amazement, as the paste was absorbed, the deathly gray color on its leg began to recede, and the wound healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.
“What is this? Will it work?” Hermione crouched down, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.
Newt pushed up his spectacles and leaned in to inspect it closely.
“It’s a lichen. Hard to say exactly what species, but likely a symbiotic mixture of fungi, moss, and locally infused magical spores. It forces rapid cellular regeneration—nature’s own raw potion.”
“There are things even you don’t know, Professor?” Hermione looked up.
“I always thought of you as a walking encyclopedia.”
“Don’t flatter me, child,” Newt said with a wry smile.
“Humanity’s knowledge of this world is but a drop in the ocean. Every inch of soil in the depths of this rainforest could harbor entirely new discoveries.”
Watching Specs roll around on the ground in agony, Long Jiu grit her teeth and tore open the bandage on her left shoulder.
Looking down at her blackened, necrotic wound, she snatched up a handful of the lichen and stuffed it into her mouth.
“Long Jiu!”
Long Jiu chewed rapidly, the bitter juice trickling down the corner of her mouth.
She slammed the masticated lichen onto her shoulder, instantly letting out a muffled groan.
Her white T-shirt was instantly drenched in sweat, clinging tightly to her frame.
She collapsed weakly onto the ground, her body trembling continuously for nearly five minutes before she slowly raised her head.
“It… it works. The toxin is gone.” Long Jiu pushed herself up to a sitting position, her voice hoarse.
“But the feeling… it’s like pouring lava directly onto the wound.”
“Starving,” Long Jiu said weakly, glancing at Hermione.
“I feel like I haven’t eaten in a year.”
“That’s a normal side effect,” Newt explained.
“The lichen forcibly drained your fat and energy reserves to stimulate tissue growth. Go grab some food from the bag—something high in calories. Prepare some for Frey, too. And get some fruit for our helpful little friend here. Hermione, help gather some more lichen for Frey.”
As Hermione gathered lichen from the stones, she asked curiously, “Professor, what exactly is Specs?”
“Ah, he’s a Mimic Pygmy Marmoset, a highly rare magical beast. They can understand human speech. Many wizards want to keep them to gather herbs or… do rather less reputable things, like pilfering Galleons. They’re too weak on their own, so they usually seek out the protection of the strong in exchange for food.”
Having fully recovered its energy, Specs hopped onto the head of the unconscious Frey and poked out its tiny tongue to lick his forehead.
“It seems the little fellow has taken a liking to Frey,” Newt said with a smile.
“When Frey wakes up, tell him to sleep carefully so he doesn’t crush it.”
Specs gave Newt a remarkably human-like nod.
Hermione stuffed some lichen into her own mouth.
“Mph… *gag*!”
A flavor reminiscent of fermented bitter melon, vinegar, and garlic instantly flooded her mouth.
Hermione nearly threw up.
She gingerly unbuttoned Frey’s clothing around his shoulders and abdomen.
His once pale skin had turned a sickly, decaying gray from the toxin.
As Hermione tried her best to gently apply the chewed-up lichen paste, the unconscious Frey suddenly convulsed violently.
“Ah!”
Frey’s eyes snapped open, but they were devoid of any awareness, staring blankly and out of focus.
He was wheezing like a broken bellows, drenched in sweat.
His right hand shot out suddenly, clamping down on Hermione’s wrist like a steel vise.
“Frey! It’s me! Let go!” Hermione cried out in pain, tears welling in her eyes.
Frey’s grip was incredibly strong, and a ring of deep purple bruises rapidly formed under his fingers.
Long Jiu walked over carrying a bowl of freshly warmed roasted potatoes.
Seeing this, she set the bowl down on a rock.
“Don’t struggle. He hasn’t regained his senses yet; he’s acting on pure animal instinct. Here, take this.”
Long Jiu handed Hermione a clean handkerchief.
Gritting her teeth, Hermione let Frey hold her right wrist while she used her left hand to gently wipe the cold sweat from his forehead with the handkerchief.
“Give him some of this. It’ll help,” Long Jiu said, tossing a bar of chocolate to Hermione.
“Then feed him some of those roasted potatoes you make so well. I doubt he’ll be a picky eater right now. He needs energy.”
Looking into Frey’s unfocused eyes, Hermione ignored the sharp pain in her wrist and whispered softly, “Frey, please eat something… please.”