The entire building at 139 Oxford Street had been built piece by piece by Old Wayne back in his ambitious younger days.
And besides this one, there were another seven or eight properties scattered along the same street.
The first floor of Number 139 housed Wayne Department Store.
The second floor belonged to Vincent’s parents.
As for the rent-free third floor—
The entire level belonged solely to him.
“I don’t care!
I’m going to Hogwarts!”
“Wake up, kid.
Magic doesn’t exist.”
Holding the owl in his arms, Vincent Wayne strode into the store.
He walked up to his mother, Evelyn, who was seated behind the glass counter, then pouted toward Eric, who had hurried in behind him looking both annoyed and flustered.
“Mom, I’m not going to Westminster anymore.”
“Why?”
“One Ring to rule them all!”
Evelyn glanced toward a complete collection sitting on a nearby bookshelf.
“Sweetheart, are you going off to find your own One Ring?”
“Yes.”
Vincent lifted the owl high into the air.
“It can prove the existence of the magical world!”
“Whoo—”
The owl proudly nodded.
Even Eric standing behind them looked confused.
This odd little thing…
seemed like it could actually understand human speech.
“Impossible.
Absolutely impossible!”
He pointed dramatically at the owl’s tiny head.
“Kid, it’s obviously fishing for gullible people…”
There were countless Waynes in London.
Cast a wide enough net and eventually somebody would bite.
Vincent turned the owl around to face him.
“Do you eat fish?”
“Whoo—”
It shook its head.
“Bugs?”
“Whoo—”
Another shake.
“Mice?”
“WHOO!”
Only after the owl nodded enthusiastically did Vincent turn toward his stunned parents.
“You heard that, right?
It said it doesn’t eat fish.”
Evelyn, who still hadn’t figured out what had just happened, and Eric, who had begun trembling slightly, could only stare blankly as Vincent headed upstairs.
“Honey…
what exactly happened?”
“Our precious son got scammed…”
After Eric finished explaining everything, Vincent finally came back downstairs carrying a backpack and a small shovel.
Eric’s eyelids twitched violently.
That setup—
Was the kid planning to run away from home?
“Stop right there!”
He rushed over and blocked the store entrance.
“Kid, it’s dangerous outside.
People die.”
Vincent exchanged a glance with the owl in his arms.
The little thing had worked hard delivering that letter.
No matter what, it deserved a proper meal.
“I—”
“Listen, kid.
Magic isn’t real.
Even Kamar-Taj is just comic-book nonsense.”
“I—”
“To hell with Hogwarts.
You can tell just from the name that it’s not a school decent people attend.”
Not wanting to be interrupted a third time, Vincent pitifully looked toward one of his strongest supporters.
Evelyn raised a hand to her forehead.
Honestly…
she’d once had dreams like that too.
But after marriage, and after having children—
Reality had eventually won.
“Sweetheart, I’ll buy you a Batman costume.”
“No!”
Eric suddenly became emotional.
“Bond is every man’s ultimate dream!”
“Kid, once you graduate from Westminster, I’ll buy you an Aston Martin DB5.”
Vincent’s mouth twitched.
He felt his parents’ expectations were a little too intense.
Bruce lived as a billionaire by day and chased escaped lunatics at night.
James somehow balanced world-saving and dating.
Neither of them looked particularly relaxed.
“Mom…
I just wanted to find food for Hoot.”
“Hoot?
This owl?”
Evelyn immediately relaxed.
As long as he wasn’t running away from home—
He could go search for dragons if he wanted.
Watching his son leave, Eric suddenly remembered an old Eastern saying.
If his wife hadn’t spoiled the kid so much—
He would’ve already trained him into a proper man.
…
…
Wearing protective gloves, Vincent followed Hoot’s directions and successfully discovered a particularly fine field mouse near the grassy area beside the old gallows at West Street.
Completely unaware of danger approaching, the little creature remained focused on digging through dirt.
One step.
Two steps.
As half of a dark shadow covered it, the mouse lifted its tiny head and turned around.
The boy holding a shovel wasn’t particularly frightening.
The real problem…
was the owl beside him whose eyes burned with hungry desire.
Panicking, the mouse dashed away on its four tiny legs and ran into a nearby alley.
Misfortune, after all, always came in pairs.
Ahead, beneath an even larger shadow—
A pair of emerald-green eyes slowly appeared.
“This luck is way too good—”
Vincent raised a thumbs-up and gave the cat slowly stepping out of the shadows his approval.
If not for this tabby—with stripes even circling around its eyes—the field mouse in front of them would probably have escaped long ago.
“Hoot, go on.”
Hoot’s eyes widened.
Instead of moving, it curled deeper into Vincent’s arms.
It looked utterly terrified of the tabby cat, so much so that it didn’t even dare glance at it.
“Don’t be scared.
You’re all one family.”
Vincent crouched in front of the field mouse.
“I’ll keep watch for you.
Nobody’s coming over to steal your food.”
“Whoo…”
Hoot trembled violently in his arms.
“You trust what I’m holding, right?”
Vincent raised the small shovel and pointed toward the tabby cat strolling over with graceful little steps.
“Whether you’re reasonable or not, Hoot and I spotted it first.”
The tabby cat acted as though it understood nothing and casually walked right past the mouse.
“Squeak squeak squeak—!”
Seizing its chance, the field mouse narrowly avoided being flattened by the descending shovel.
Under Vincent’s regret-filled gaze, it swiftly darted left and right before disappearing into the shadows.
“Ah…
all that effort wasted…”
Vincent stood up and looked resentfully at the tabby.
Not only had Hoot’s feast escaped—
The poor owl had also suffered emotional trauma.
This cat had absolutely done it on purpose.
He firmly engraved every one of its features into memory.
“Hoot, don’t be scared.”
As Vincent walked out of the alley, he increasingly felt there was something strange about the tabby.
Not catching mice was one thing.
But following him around?
It wasn’t like he had fish snacks on him.
“Wait a second…”
His expression became cautious as he tightened his hold around Hoot.
East Street.
The tabby followed.
The park.
Still following.
The alley outside a restaurant kitchen.
Still there.
Vincent suddenly felt a little sorry for it, so on the way home he bought a small packet of dried fish snacks.
“Go ahead.
Low salt, low oil.”
The tabby stood perfectly still.
Its emerald-green eyes never once glanced downward.
Maybe it was his imagination—
But Vincent could swear that for a brief instant, the cat pursed its lips, and its gaze suddenly turned frighteningly sharp.
“A useless cat that even turns its nose up at dried fish…”
He figured he must’ve imagined it.
A Hogwarts owl understanding human speech wasn’t strange.
But randomly encountering a cat on the street with expressions this human?
Impossible.
Back inside Wayne Department Store, Vincent’s parents found it difficult to accept that their son had gone out for half an hour and returned with yet another animal.
“The owl was one thing…
but you want to raise this cat too?”
“Not me.
You two are raising it.”
Eric suddenly burst out laughing.
“Great!
Fantastic!”
“This stupid Warthog Magic School is a plague on the entire world!”
In the corner, the tabby abruptly lifted its head.
Its emerald eyes viciously locked onto him.
“Holy crap!
Even this cat isn’t normal!”
At that exact moment—
The tabby suddenly began expanding.
“Holy cra—!”
Eric instantly moved in front of his wife and son protectively.
Vincent stared in shock, his mouth hanging wide open.
This scene…
felt oddly familiar.
The only movie from his previous life’s series that he’d ever watched—
It seemed to have a scene exactly like this.
At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there was a professor who taught Transfiguration…
and could transform into a cat.
She— was actually the Vice Principal who had written him the letter.