When Taka Hyuga woke with a start, he didn’t immediately realize his surroundings had changed.
For a split second, he thought he was still on the battlefield between the Hidden Leaf and the Hidden Stone.
It was only when he instinctively raised his guard and reached to draw a kunai—aiming to block an expected ambush—that he noticed he couldn’t extract any chakra, nor was there a kunai in his hand.
Taka snapped his eyes open and sat up, scanning the room.
The cold, lethal aura of his Hyuga Byakugan swept across his surroundings.
A wooden house, nineteenth-century European décor, a quiet and gentle atmosphere—the birds chirping outside and the faint murmur of human voices told him he was nowhere near a warzone.
Taka froze in confusion.
Looking down, he realized his sixteen-year-old body had shrunk to that of a ten-year-old, showing not a single trace of physical conditioning.
He glumly pinched the scrawny arms and flat stomach.
The six-pack abs he had spent years building, the pride of his physique…
gone after a transmigration!
Taka let out a heavy sigh.
After assessing his body and confirming there were no major injuries, he slid out of bed and began exploring the room, preparing to process this second transmigration.
He wasn’t surprised at all.
After all, he had already transmigrated once in secret, Taka thought glumly.
Thinking back on the past sixteen years of nonstop, grueling training, he almost coughed up a mouthful of bitter blood.
The Second Shinobi World War had been a terrible era to live in—too many ninjas, too many ninjutsu, brutal methods, and swift deaths.
If he had known that dying on the battlefield would lead to a second transmigration, he wouldn’t have trained so hard; he would have ended his own life much sooner.
The Naruto world was far too dangerous.
No one treated human life with respect.
Even after becoming a member of the Hyuga clan, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be killed by enemy ninjas—or even ninjas from his own village—while out on a mission.
Well, at least as a Hyuga, he had awakened the Byakugan and possessed decent ninja talent.
After more than a decade of hard work, he had become a capable shinobi.
Before his death, Taka had reached the strength of a Jonin.
If not for the restrictions placed on the Branch House—where certain ninjutsu were reserved exclusively for the Main House—he would have been officially promoted to Jonin long ago.
Taka found some food in the kitchen downstairs and ate as he walked around.
This world looked fairly peaceful.
Perhaps he wouldn’t need to work himself to the bone just to stay alive.
*I hope I can live to a hundred this time,* Taka thought with anticipation.
He had originally been an ordinary person.
If given the chance to live a peaceful life, who would willingly spend their days killing and committing arson?
The room where he had woken up was small, and judging by the items inside, it was his bedroom.
To find information about this body, he would need to check the master bedroom or the study.
Taka munched on his bread as he strolled through the house.
It was a small two-story building.
The first floor contained a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a guest room.
Up the wooden staircase, the second floor held a master bedroom, a smaller bedroom (the one he woke up in), a study, and another bathroom.
The layout was simple, with no hidden chambers or secret spaces.
However, the items inside the house felt slightly off, carrying an odd sense of incongruity.
There were modern appliances like a refrigerator, a television, and a dishwasher, but they looked so brand new it seemed as if they had never been used.
Yet judging by the wear on the sofa and carpets, it looked like people lived here regularly.
It wasn’t until Taka opened the study and saw the familiar Hogwarts crest hanging behind the desk that he finally understood what world he had come to.
Before his first transmigration, this book series had taken the world by storm.
As a native Chinese youth, he had loved it too.
The moment he realized this, a sharp pain shot through his head, and a flood of memories rushed in, forcing their way into his mind regardless of whether his brain could hold them all.
Taka clutched his head in agony, sweating profusely.
It took a long while for the memory transfer to end.
Closing his eyes to review the memories, Taka finally fully absorbed the original host’s life.
It was currently July 1982.
The Dark Lord had failed to assassinate Harry Potter just a few months ago and had vanished—or rather, died.
Pardon Taka for using the word “assassinate.” After all, creeping around on a dark and windy night to walk down a lonely alleyway didn’t exactly make the Dark Lord look like he had noble intentions.
The Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic had begun trying Death Eaters and pure-blood families.
After several months, those who belonged in Azkaban were sent there, those who needed to pay fines paid them, and those claiming to be under the Imperius Curse got off.
Things had finally settled down.
Then the original host, Jelair Print, along with his father, the pure-blood wizard Lawrence Print, and his mother, the Muggle-born witch Anne Dawson, returned from hiding in the Muggle world.
Although Lawrence was a pure-blood, he didn’t come from a prominent family.
He had simply been lucky over the generations, as his ancestors had consistently married pure-blood wizards.
Their family tree contained skilled wizards, weak wizards, and even a few Squibs.
All in all, after several generations, they remained unremarkable in the magical world.
His father and mother had met and fallen in love during their school days, marrying after graduation.
Back then, the Dark Lord had not yet risen, and although the magical world looked down on Muggle-born wizards, it was still relatively peaceful.
It was only shortly after Jelair was born that the Dark Lord rose to power, and life for the family took a turn for the worse.
To protect his wife and son from the Dark Lord’s persecution, Lawrence decisively chose to leave the magical world and go into hiding in the Muggle world.
Initially, this was a wise decision.
They enjoyed five or six happy years together.
Taka’s newly acquired memories showed that during those years, even the air tasted sweet in little Jelair’s mind.
Reflecting on the original host’s name, Taka couldn’t help but sigh with emotion.
His parents had truly loved him deeply.
*Jelair.* Derived from an ancient tongue, it meant “flying hawk”—soaring freely like a melody in the wind.
They wanted him to grow up free from restraint and far from conflict, living life on his own terms.
They were even willing to stand against the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters for his sake, raising their wands to strike back without hesitation.
Right before the Dark Lord vanished, they had fought a fierce battle against Death Eaters and suffered mortal wounds.
Just as a Death Eater’s curse was about to hit Jelair, the Dark Lord vanished.
Sensing that something was wrong, the Death Eaters halted their attack, pulled up their sleeves in sheer panic, and fled within seconds, having no time to finish off Jelair’s family.
Jelair’s parents managed to survive the night, but their injuries were too severe.
Neither survived more than a few months before passing away.
Unable to handle the tragedy, little Jelair had fallen into deep grief, shutting himself away at home.
And then, he starved to death.
That was how Taka Hyuga had ended up here.
“So we really were fated,” Taka murmured.
“You’re Jelair, the hawk, and my name meant hawk as well.
Your parents wanted you to be free, and I want freedom too.
Don’t worry—I’ll live well and cherish this second chance at life.”
With that thought, Taka decided that from now on, he was Jelair Print.
At that moment, the harmony between his soul and this body surged to a new level.
*Indeed,* he thought, *magic has a profound connection with the soul and consciousness.*
*Tap, tap, tap.*
A soft knocking sound came from outside the window.
Jelair turned his head and raised an eyebrow.
Well, well.
Standing right there on the windowsill was an owl—the very creature he had yearned to see before his transmigrations—staring at him with its head tilted to one side.
Jelair opened the window, took the letter from the owl, and walked over to the kitchen to fetch a slice of bread and a slice of ham, along with a small bowl of fresh water, rewarding the messenger.
The owl let out a pleased hoot and gently rubbed its head against Jelair’s hand.
Jelair patted the bird before opening the letter.
There wasn’t much to say—it was the exact standard acceptance letter, just with a different name.
He found a pen in the study and carefully wrote a response, expressing his delight at attending, then sat back to wait for the owl to eat and drink its fill before attaching his reply and sending it off.
Jelair felt a surge of excitement.
Attending Hogwarts during this era should be peaceful and safe.
By the time the Savior entered the school, Jelair would have already graduated as an adult.
He would possess the means to protect himself and could travel anywhere in the world.
No matter how powerful the Dark Lord was, what could he do if Jelair took a passport and went to ancient China?
And seven years later, when the Dark Lord died for good, Jelair would be living comfortably.
*This life is set.
I’m going to live to a hundred!* Jelair thought happily.
Feeling satisfied and refreshed, Jelair decided to head to the bathroom to use the facilities.
Catching a casual glimpse of himself in the mirror, Jelair froze in shock.
Wait…
what was going on?
Did his Byakugan transmigrate with him too?!