Ever since Eric secretly installed a few little devices, the Wayne family had enjoyed an entire week of peace.
And during those days, the Daily Prophet’s front-page headlines had surprisingly shifted to the soon-to-enroll Boy Who Lived.
“Harry Potter…”
Every day, Eric would hoarsely mutter that name several times.
“Dad, isn’t this a good thing?”
Recently, Vincent had become increasingly concerned about his father’s receding hairline.
“Maybe that reporter got scared.”
“That would be ideal.”
Eric’s slightly dissatisfied face clearly revealed the truth.
He was jealous.
Hopelessly jealous of Vincent’s future classmate.
So what if he drank a bottle of Gamp Ale?
Could that little bit of fame really compete with the savior who sent Bald Socket Man packing?
Vincent, on the other hand, had recently achieved enlightenment.
Ever since blowing up most of the third floor repeatedly, he’d developed the calmness of someone who had seen through worldly attachments.
Limited-edition Famicom destroyed?
Whatever.
The IBM 5100, supposedly desired even by time travelers?
Nothing worth regretting.
Signed albums from top celebrities?
Reprints existed.
None of it mattered.
Absolutely none.
At least— that was his public position.
According to Hoot, the only witness— this supposedly calm young man had spent last night kneeling before a pile of shattered fragments in silent despair.
Ah, Merlin…
The price of learning magic was simply too high.
If Reparo didn’t exist, Vincent probably would have gone insane already.
A few days after mastering the spell, he’d rapidly progressed to intentionally breaking objects just to practice repairing them.
Under the famous Vincent Principle— every appliance and piece of furniture inside the Wayne household now permanently existed in a state somewhere between broken and repaired.
Five days before school started— after dominating headlines for over half a month, the Boy Who Lived finally vanished from the Daily Prophet’s front page.
Potter and Wayne: The Strengths and Weaknesses of Half-Blood and Muggle Families
Just reading the title made it obvious:
Someone wanted trouble.
After breakfast, the Wayne family exchanged knowing glances.
If predictions held true— something was definitely happening tonight.
Smiling cheerfully, Eric took out an oversized beauty from the display cabinet and loaded shiny peanuts one by one.
“Private property is sacred and inviolable…”
When Eric said those words—
Vincent thought he looked unbelievably cool.
“Dad, try not to kill anyone.”
“Relax.”
“I know my limits.”
Under four mischievous smiles— night quietly descended.
The latest generation of night-vision monitoring equipment showed absolutely nothing unusual around the entire building.
“Patience.”
Wearing night-vision goggles, Eric held a brand-new AW sniper rifle while carefully observing nine different screens.
Holding his wand, Vincent glanced outside.
“Mom, you didn’t call the police, right?”
“Not yet.”
Evelyn brushed aside her pale blonde hair.
“After we catch someone…”
“That might change.”
“WHOO—!”
Hoot suddenly widened its eyes.
It had sensed something.
Following the owl’s gaze, the family immediately spotted a small beetle flying low beneath the cover of darkness.
“Captain, powerful magic is ready.”
“Good.”
Eric rested the rifle against the windowsill and instantly lined up the target heading toward the first floor.
“Vice Captain, keep watching the monitors.”
“Understood.”
Evelyn’s smile vanished immediately.
“Prepare…”
Eric focused completely as his finger slowly tightened against the trigger.
“Fire!”
The 7.62-caliber peanut tore through the night sky.
Amid a thunderous sound, it raced toward the tiny wings fluttering to the left.
POOF—
Eric hadn’t missed.
The beetle had simply moved too quickly.
Vincent immediately reacted and raised his wand.
“Locomotor Mortis!”
Invisible waves burst from the wand tip, instantly covering the area around the front entrance.
The beetle struck by the spell suddenly had all six legs lock together as if glued in place.
Struggling desperately, it swayed unsteadily in the air.
Eric released the trigger.
“Captain Hoot—your turn!”
“WHOOO—!”
Round little Hoot launched itself heroically into the air— then descended toward the beetle with unstoppable force.
BONK—
Less than three meters from the front door— using its newly regrown fluffy backside, Hoot successfully pinned down the mission target.
That victorious little expression of absolute pride instantly engraved itself into the minds of the Wayne family.
An owl this amazing— absolutely deserved the surname Wayne.
How could Hogwarts’ shabby conditions possibly deserve a divine beast of this level?
Under the watchful gaze of three pairs of green-glowing eyes at the doorway, the beetle trapped beneath Hoot began trembling violently.
It had lost.
Lost because it underestimated Muggles.
The moment it was trapped beneath a small glass container, it suddenly began smashing itself around wildly like it had gone mad.
“Give up.”
“This is tempered glass manufactured by the East’s greatest nation.”
Eric stylishly pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
The cigarette he’d just placed in his mouth vanished instantly.
Because Evelyn had already snatched it away.
“Dear.”
“Didn’t you quit smoking?”
“Ahem.”
“I was only planning to smell it.”
Watching his father act mighty outside and obedient inside, Vincent couldn’t stop his eyelids from twitching.
Look at Bruce.
Then look at James.
Should he just rename himself Vince already?
BANG— BANG—
Carrying the glass container, Vincent followed his parents back to the first floor.
“This little beetle is pretty stubborn.”
He shook the container vigorously.
“Even now, it still refuses to calm down.”
Standing guard by the entrance, Eric checked his watch.
“Kyle should be arriving soon.”
A gunshot that loud?
The London police would definitely respond.
And the one arriving was very likely his old army acquaintance—Kyle.
The moment Vincent thought about that unserious fat uncle, he immediately lost interest.
The guy looked like he had a respectable profession.
But secretly?
A legendary veteran driver.
There probably wasn’t a single entertainment establishment in London he hadn’t visited.
With nothing else to do, Vincent picked up the portable thermal imaging scanner they had recently dismantled.
At this point, after all this chaos— that reporter probably wouldn’t dare return.
According to the Ministry, no wizard had publicly violated the Statute of Secrecy in eleven years.
“Careful.”
“I can’t afford to replace that thing.”
Eric nervously looked over his shoulder.
“Relax.”
Vincent flipped open the screen and pointed the thermal scanner toward Hoot, who was happily eating dried fish.
The reddish-orange display showed that magical owls didn’t differ much from normal body temperatures.
“Forty point five degrees.”
“Normal.”
Then he pointed the device toward the beetle inside the container.
Although its color looked slightly lighter— its entire body temperature was somehow higher than the surrounding environment.
“Dad—something’s wrong!”
Even though the beetle had been smashing against the glass nonstop— if its shell temperature exceeded ambient temperature, it shouldn’t still be this active.
“It’s almost twenty-nine degrees.”
Four pairs of eyes looked at one another.
The next second— everyone reacted at once.
This persistent little beetle’s true identity…
was actually an unregistered Animagus.
The first illegal Animagus of the century.