Seven days passed.
Linus Alvin stood in the center of the laboratory, staring at the corpses covering the floor, his brow deeply furrowed.
Ten werewolves and five Dark wizards had all perished in the past week of experiments.
He had attempted to modify the Life Code countless times, yet he remained trapped in the exact same dead end.
The complexity of the Life Code surpassed all imagination.
Altering even a single minute symbol would trigger an unpredictable chain reaction.
This was a struggle against the very “laws of existence,” and he was not yet qualified to win.
Yet he was still advancing.
This week had not been entirely without gain.
Through his research, he had discovered a major breakthrough—the Magic Core.
Within the body of every wizard existed such a core; it stored magical energy and served as the source of spellcasting.
Some cores were spherical, others triangular, and a rare few possessed cubic structures.
Ordinary wizards mostly had spherical cores, while top-tier sorcerers like Dumbledore and Grindelwald possessed core structures that were complex and stable.
Even more interestingly, even Squibs had cores within their bodies— Except their cores lay dormant, devoid of light or breath.
In earlier years, he had tried transplanting wizard cores into others to boost their magical power.
He solved dozens of technical hurdles, yet still ended in failure.
First, the core was difficult to extract.
It was not a physical organ, but an entity existing between soul and bloodline.
Even if forcibly extracted, it would disintegrate in an instant.
And when he successfully transplanted it using a special method, there were only two outcomes: Either no reaction whatsoever, or the recipient suffered severe rejection, causing their internal magic to go wild and ultimately kill them.
It wasn’t until after researching the Life Code that he finally understood the reason.
Bloodline dictated the core’s mode of existence, while the soul dictated the core’s ownership.
The core carried the soul imprint of its owner; when transplanted, this imprint collided with the recipient’s soul.
That was the true root cause of “rejection.” The experiments were temporarily paused.
He had no more fresh materials and no new inspiration for the moment.
Continuing would only needlessly multiply the pile of corpses.
He sighed, extinguished the rune array, and left the laboratory.
“Perhaps I need a change of perspective,” he murmured softly.
“If I could observe a developing wizard life—from embryo to birth—perhaps I could see the natural formation process of the Life Code.” The thought flickered into his mind, causing a sudden jolt in his heart.
His expression grew solemn, his breathing faltering slightly.
He knew he had always been calm and rational, but he would never harm children.
Such a thought should not have entered his mind.
He lightly pressed his forehead.
“It seems…
my mental state has developed a problem.” Linus packed up all his experimental tools and stepped out of the trunk.
After leaving the manor, he Apparated and vanished into the night.
A moment later, he appeared in a dim alleyway in London.
Changing into ordinary Muggle clothes, he raised a hand to summon a gust of wind, stealing a few newspapers from a street corner to confirm the location and time.
Then, he Apparated again, appearing at a massive concert venue.
The stage lights were dazzling, the crowd roaring, the music deafening.
Tens of thousands of Muggles were immersed in revelry, laughter and song weaving together into pure, unadulterated joy.
Linus stood in the shadows of the crowd, raised his wand, and whispered softly.
“Patronus Charm.” A silver light shot into the sky, and a massive silver eagle spread its wings, soaring into the night air.
As its wings unfurled, it felt as though even the starlight stirred.
Yet, no Muggle could see it.
In their eyes, it was merely a breeze brushing past, the lights flickering.
The silver eagle flew high, hovering in the sky before opening its beak in a swallowing motion.
Countless tiny silver specks of light floated up from the crowd, slowly swallowed by the eagle.
Those were happy memories.
This was another of Linus’s inventions— A reverse technique adapted from Dementors.
Unlike a Dementor, his Patronus wouldn’t devour souls or steal happiness.
It merely stimulated the Muggles’ beautiful memories and absorbed the resulting positive energy fluctuations.
A few minutes later, the silver eagle had expanded several times in size, glowing with a brilliant light.
It swooped down, merging back into Linus’s body.
In that instant, a warm energy flowed through his whole body, completely dispelling the suffocating shadows.
His thoughts cleared once more, and even the air felt lighter.
He exhaled a long breath.
“That’s much better.” He knew deep down that Dark Magic eroded the caster’s mind.
Especially for someone like him who deeply researched its true nature.
Without proper defenses, his mind would eventually be swallowed by darkness.
So he had modified the Patronus Charm, turning it into a literal “mind guard.” He called it—the Mind-Soothing Art.
Linus had never considered himself a Dark wizard.
He admitted he was ruthless, rational, even cold-blooded, but he had never lost his moral baseline.
Just like now, he could still cast the Patronus Charm—that in itself was proof.
To summon a Patronus, a wizard had to possess sufficiently powerful happy memories in their heart.
And Linus possessed far more than just a single memory.
He remembered the sound of his parents’ laughter when they were still alive.
The pride in his mother’s eyes when he received his first wand.
Even amid the fear and darkness of the war years, they would still light a lamp for him at the dinner table.
Later, after his parents died in battle, his aunt Amelia adopted him.
Outsiders thought her cold and stern, but Linus knew she was simply accustomed to disguising warmth behind a harsh exterior.
That quiet, unspoken love was the final warmth that carried him through his youth.
Looking back now, he could still manage a soft smile.
He had experienced death, and he had been reborn.
The meaning of being alive was clearer to him than to anyone else.
He pursued magic not for power, but for understanding— The passion of exploring the unknown far surpassed any glory.
Every time he unveiled a layer of truth, a subtle sense of fulfillment washed over him.
It was as though the mysterious Goddess of Magic stood before him, and he was slowly lifting her veil, piece by piece.
Even if only a corner was revealed, it was enough to make his heart pound wildly.
This was his reason to keep moving forward.
As the night deepened, the beat of the music continued to thrum.
Linus looked out over the sea of lights, a slight smile appearing at the corner of his lips.
“Not a bad therapy session.” He turned, pulled out a communication mirror he carried with him, and tapped its surface lightly with his wand, casting a shimmering projection of runes.
“Are you free right now?” A few minutes later, the mirror lit up, and a familiar voice responded— “I am.
Coming over?” Linus smiled faintly.
“Of course.” With a flash of light and shadow, his figure vanished into the night sky.