A powerful counter-curse shot from the old man’s wand, attempting to dissolve the fiery magic.
This should have been child’s play.
After all, the old man standing before him was Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the contemporary age, while the fire magic had come from the hand of an unschooled child.
Yet the reality was—he failed.
The powerful counter-curse did little more than weaken the flame slightly before completely dissipating, as if someone had merely fanned a raging fire, and nothing more.
The flames surged forward unchecked, on the verge of engulfing Glenn.
Dumbledore, true to his reputation, raised his hand in the nick of time and cast another spell.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” Dumbledore’s Levitation Charm hit Glenn, sending him floating high into the air.
Caught off guard, Glenn dropped his handgun, which was swept into the wave of fire and instantly melted into a puddle of molten iron.
“AAAHHH!
FUCK!
FUCK—” Having survived the ordeal, Glenn floated in midair, flailing wildly and screaming.
In a matter of minutes, his worldview had been thoroughly shattered.
First a red-eyed boy who produced fire, and now an old wizard with a wooden stick—was this still the world he knew?
“Silence!” Dumbledore lowered Glenn to the ground, casually casting several Memory Charms on the human traffickers.
“Take your two men and leave.
Tonight, you never stepped foot out of the house.
Understand?” With a dull, vacant gaze, Glenn nodded.
He hoisted up Nick, who had passed out after hitting the wall, and called over Bart, who was under a Confundus Charm outside the alley, to carry the severely injured, unconscious Riff.
The four of them stumbled out of the alleyway.
Finally, only an old man and a young boy remained in the dim, cramped alley.
Shendu’s eyes returned to their normal color.
He had extinguished the fire the moment he saw Dumbledore.
Though his face was as calm as a still lake, his mind was churning like a stormy sea.
*You stupid system, which dimension did this stick-wielding wizard pop out from?
Where do wizards and magic come from in the real world?* Shendu roared inwardly.
[…Zzz…
System analyzing…
Analysis complete…
Ding!
Impersonation task completed.
System unbinding…
Evacuating…
Wishing you a pleasant life.] *Holy shit!
You trash system, you’re running away?!
At least return my Talisman powers!
Hey—!* However, the system went dead silent, giving no further response.
Shendu was furious.
He had naively thought the stupid system had merely embezzled his Talismans.
But looking at things now, the world this system had brought him to was not a real world devoid of supernatural powers at all.
In his current weakened state, facing wizards who wielded magic, he was no different from fish on a chopping block—entirely at their mercy.
“Damon Ignis!” Dumbledore called out.
No answer.
“Damon Ignis!” he called again.
Only then did Shendu realize that Dumbledore was calling him!
Damon Ignis—the name of this body.
Truth be told, with a name like that, no wonder the stupid system had said this body was the most compatible match in this world for his demon soul.
In that case, from now on, he was the human Damon, no longer the demon Shendu hated by all.
“Mysterious sir, did you come looking for me specifically?” Damon asked.
The old wizard knew his name and maintained a friendly demeanor even after seeing him attack ordinary people.
At least for now, it seemed he had no ill intent.
So long as he didn’t expose any flaws.
“There’s no need to be nervous.
Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and a wizard,” Dumbledore said with a gentle smile, trying to ease the young wizard’s guard.
“I believe you have already noticed the extraordinary talents you possess, much like the fire you produced just now,” Dumbledore continued.
From the moment Dumbledore uttered his name and the name of that school, Damon froze as if struck by a bolt of lightning that split open his memories.
Even though he had lived as Shendu for thousands of years, and his original memories had long grown hazy under the wash of time, he still vaguely remembered this famous work.
The Boy Who Lived, the Dark Lord, and a wondrous magical world.
So this was the world of *Harry Potter*!
“So…
sir, do you mean to say I’m a wizard too?” Recovering his senses, Damon immediately displayed his seasoned acting skills, blending astonishment with delight.
This was a top-tier skill honed over thousands of years.
It was precisely through his superb acting that he had been able to deceive other demons and sorcerers time and again.
“Yes, you are a wizard,” Dumbledore said, his eyes focused.
“And a wizard with a rather exceptional talent.
I must say, the fire you produced just now appeared quite extraordinary.” “Sir, do you mean this?
I don’t know how it works, but I seem to be able to control fire naturally.” Damon feigned ignorance as he raised his hand, channeling his Fire Demon Qi.
A flame immediately ignited in his palm.
Dumbledore carefully sensed the flame.
The magical fluctuations contained within it were unlike any magic he had ever encountered.
It could not be warded off by a counter-curse, yet it was not Dark Magic filled with malice—it was simply pure burning.
Could it be some kind of ancient magic he had never seen before?
Did this child possess some bloodline of ancient magic that he was unaware of?
He wondered if Hogwarts’ library could provide an answer.
Thoughts racing through his mind, Dumbledore stepped closer to Damon and said, “Your talent is remarkable, but it is also very dangerous.” “At Hogwarts, we do not only teach you how to use magic.” Dumbledore bent down slightly, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles gazing intently at the boy.
“We also teach you how to control it.
You just used magic to attack those Muggles—you nearly killed them.” He paused, as though giving Damon time to digest the weight of his words.
“I believe it was unintentional, and the professors at school will teach you how to master your magic in the future.” “However, I must warn you: in the wizarding world, using magic maliciously to take a life is a severe crime.
The Ministry of Magic—the government body governing the wizarding world—would sentence you to life imprisonment in Azkaban.
Believe me, that is a punishment worse than death.” Dumbledore’s tone grew increasingly stern.
His eyes reflected Damon’s silhouette, yet it seemed as though he were looking through the boy, catching the outline of someone else—equally handsome, equally pale, and equally gifted.
A lingering shadow of regret flickered deep in his eyes before being swiftly suppressed.
Damon took it all in.
He had seen that look far too many times over the course of millennia.
The old man wasn’t just warning him—or at least, not only him.
“I understand, sir,” Damon nodded obediently, though inwardly he couldn’t have cared less.
“It seems I’ve frightened you.
I spoke too severely.
I hope you can forgive an old man’s rambling—I am over a hundred years old, after all.” Realizing he had lost his composure, Dumbledore blinked and restored his warm smile.
“I think your advice is completely right, sir,” Damon replied, his eyes filled with sincerity.
Dumbledore’s smile broadened.
The invisible weight hanging over his heart seemed to lighten a bit.
Perhaps…
he had overthought things.
This child had clear eyes and a sincere demeanor—he was vastly different from *that* person.
“Shall we go?” Dumbledore’s voice turned cheerful, even the folds of his robes seeming to loosen.
“Where to, sir?” “Diagon Alley.
A place where you can get a little taste of the wizarding world.
Believe me, you’ll love it.”