The final act of the werewolf experiment froze on the screen, the blood analysis chart flashing like a storm.
Linus Alvin leaned back in his chair, his brow deeply furrowed.
Even after a Muggle turned into a werewolf and underwent an undeniable genetic mutation, there was still no detectable magical reaction in their body.
He could feel he was only a single step away from the truth, yet an invisible barrier always stood in his way.
After pondering in silence for a long time, he suddenly stood up and turned toward another storage room.
It was the potion room.
Hundreds of jars and bottles were neatly arrayed on shelves, their labels marked with various potion names—some contained half-filled remnants, while others were long empty.
He searched carefully and finally found a small, clear glass vial on the top shelf.
Inside flowed a liquid like molten gold.
The name beneath the label gleamed softly—Felix Felicis.
It was the “liquid luck” he had brewed with his own hands.
Linus curled his lips into a smile.
Without hesitation, he threw back his head and swallowed the potion in one gulp.
A warm, golden stream trickled down his throat and instantly spread through his entire body.
An indescribable wave of confidence surged over him like a tide.
He knew that at this very moment, he was standing on the “optimal path” of destiny.
He returned to the laboratory and raised his wand once more.
With a flash of light, a Dark wizard was teleported onto the experimental table— This time, it was not a Muggle, but a captured Dark wizard.
Linus had the werewolf bite him, then quickly separated the two and sent the Dark wizard into the analysis pod.
He pulled up the data and observed intently.
On the screen, a double helix structure rotated slowly.
Suddenly, a faint pulse of energy flickered across the display—an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible magical oscillation.
“Found it.” Linus’s heart tightened.
He zoomed in, attempting to capture the shape of that energy.
However, the instruments failed to recognize it; all data fields remained completely blank.
He narrowed his eyes, suddenly remembering something.
“Dementors are invisible to Muggles…
Perhaps machines can’t see magic either.” Although the instruments were modified with magic, their essence was still a product of technology.
If that energy existed on a “spiritual” plane, the machine naturally could not observe it.
Linus took a deep breath and put away his wand.
“Looks like I need to switch methods.” He cast every vision-related spell he knew: From the most basic extrasensory spell to his self-developed “Spiritual Vision,” a new spell formulation he had derived after dissecting the eyeballs of countless magical creatures.
Runes flashed in his eyes as his pupils turned silver.
When his gaze fell upon that spot once more— He saw a completely different world.
It was a bizarre space woven from symbols, light, and totems.
Countless symbols and lines floated in the air like an endless stream of text.
Those symbols flickered like flowing water at times, and plummeted like falling stars at others.
He concentrated his gaze, finally recognizing a familiar shape— Ancient runes.
He had studied Ancient Runes under Professor Babbling at Hogwarts and had corresponded with numerous researchers over the years, rendering him long since a master of the subject.
He immediately pulled out a notebook, rapidly recording and deciphering those “characters.” Hours later, the results left him almost breathless.
This was not an ordinary language, but a structural code existing deep within life itself.
He named it—the Life Code.
It was the foundation of all life, composed of three parts: Body, Soul, and Bloodline.
The Body portion corresponded to DNA, determining a person’s physical form and physiological traits; The Soul portion determined consciousness and mental capacity; And the Bloodline portion was the core of magic.
Linus’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Finally…
I’ve found it.” He discovered that Muggles also possessed a Life Code, except their “bloodline segment” was completely blank, and their soul portion was extremely weak.
This meant that the difference between Muggles and wizards lay neither in their organs nor in their intelligence, but in the presence or absence of a magical bloodline.
His mind raced.
If he could modify the “bloodline segment,” could he enable Muggles to gain magical power?
Or—make a wizard’s bloodline even stronger?
He couldn’t help but recall certain examples.
Voldemort’s Parseltongue talent stemmed from Salazar Slytherin’s bloodline; And Harry Potter, after being invaded by a fragment of the Dark Lord’s soul, had gained the exact same ability.
This proved there was a transferable link between bloodline and soul.
“Bloodline…
is not merely biological inheritance, but an extension of the soul.” Having gained this insight, Linus turned back to the experimental table to continue his deductions.
A problem quickly arose: If the Life Code really existed, how could he modify it?
Countless possibilities flashed through his mind.
Alchemy?
Too crude.
Potions?
Incapable of penetrating down to the genetic level.
Runes?
Able to record, but unable to alter.
Suddenly, a thought struck him— Transfiguration.
Transfiguration could directly alter the structure of matter, and Human Transfiguration could reversibly restructure life forms.
In theory, it had every potential to reach the Life Code.
He acted swiftly, securing the Dark wizard onto the dissection table.
The experiment began.
Taking a deep breath, Linus focused his mind and used Transfiguration to reach out and touch that bloodline code.
He felt a strange connection, as if his soul vibrated in resonance with the wizard’s “life structure.” He attempted to gently alter one of the symbols.
The next second— The wizard’s body twitched violently as blood erupted from his ears, nose, and mouth simultaneously.
A few seconds later, he collapsed, completely devoid of breath.
Linus walked over to examine him, discovering that the man’s DNA had completely collapsed and his Life Code had been torn apart.
His brow tightly furrowed, he remained silent for a long while before giving a light wave of his wand.
The corpse was sent to the incineration zone, and a fresh subject was teleported in.
“It seems the intervention of Transfiguration is too crude.
I must find a more precise method.” He placed another werewolf on the experimental table, beginning a new attempt.
Time and again, failures followed in rapid succession.
Yet his gaze grew only more determined.
“No matter how many times it takes…
I will unlock the truth of life.” He murmured softly, his fingertips brushing past the silver screen of light.
The chain composed of ancient runes flickered before him, as if awaiting a future waiting to be deciphered.