Promotion?
A raise?
Ferdinand's eyes burned with anticipation, but he managed to restrain himself just a little. "Isn't this a bit much?" he asked, trying to sound humble.
"I am just trying my best for the boss until death. My admiration for the boss is like a continuous, rushing river, an uncontrollable flood." He lowered his head. "I just drove into some people for the boss, almost got beaten to death, and lay in the hospital with a few broken bones for two weeks."
John watched him, expressionless. He didn't know what his driver had been reading in the library, but he had certainly come back with a new routine.
Before Ferdinand could improvise a poem in praise of his great boss, John interrupted his rhythmic voice.
"Since you think it's not good, then forget it."
"No, I was wrong. I want it. I really want it!" Ferdinand's sincerity was now palpable.
John clicked his tongue.
"The security department needs someone. You can go and try it out."
Ferdinand was about to agree immediately, but a thought stopped him. "Then I won't be driving for you anymore?" he asked, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
John nodded. "No need."
Hearing this, Ferdinand suddenly felt a bit lost. A promotion was good, but it felt like he was losing more. Those luxury cars were about to leave him.
"What if the boss needs a car?" he asked persistently.
John glanced at him. "No need in the future."
"Huh?" Ferdinand was confused.
John waved his hand, telling him to go back. Ferdinand looked back every three steps, but John showed no reluctance, taking the elevator back home with a stylish ease.
The penthouse's floor-to-ceiling windows faced the breathtaking night view of New York. The repaired city looked just as it had the first time he'd seen it—a bustling metropolis of bright lights and flowing wine, a world of revelry in luxury cars and livelihoods earned in taxis. Two different ways of driving, one for enjoyment, one for work.
John stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down on the city. "This world will be full of holes and scars in the future."
His deal with the Ancient One was to protect this world until the birth of the next Supreme Sorcerer. With the course of history changed, she had placed her hope in him. The taboo of Kamar-Taj was the dimensions that lay beyond. John had made no contract with her. The Supreme Sorcerer needed to earn the respect of the Wizard King, and the Wizard King, in turn, needed to earn hers. A contract would have avoided trouble, but it would have also turned his responsibilities into restraints. That would not have been good for him.
"Dimensions outside this world," John murmured, his eyes narrowing.
His account with the Hell Lord had not yet been completely settled. It was entirely possible the entity would return. Rather than wait for it to make the first move, it would be better to act himself. John didn't believe the incomplete Casket of Ancient Winters could destroy Hell in a single blow. It had caused trouble, yes, but the Hell Lord was not so easily killed.
"I have to find a way to perfect the Casket of Ancient Winters."
He hadn't forgotten his divine artifact. A complete version would give him more confidence when facing the arrival of the Purple Sweet Potato himself.
"Loki was taken back to Asgard by Thor. If I could borrow the power of the Rainbow Bridge, I wonder if it could destroy Hell." Loki had once used the bridge with the intention of destroying Jotunheim. If even the homeland of the Frost Giants couldn't resist its power, then the Rainbow Bridge was certainly a weapon of divine-artifact level.
"Asgard is full of treasures."
He could name several off the top of his head. Not everyone could just give away a Destroyer Armor. And despite Tony always being the richest man, the true wealthiest was Thor, that idiot son of a landlord's family.
John looked up at the sky. In Asgard, there was a gatekeeper who could see all Nine Realms. John truly wanted to study the man's eyes.
"Heimdall? I do know a blind dragon named Heimdall." It was that very dragon who had guided him to his trial.
...
Ariana had a job as a freelance reporter, sending her articles to the Daily Bugle. Now, a mechanical hand clumsily blew her hair dry for her—a new, good helper for styling.
A camera with a blinking red dot hung from the ceiling.
"Sir, you have mail," Moss said.
Compared to a human form, Moss's form was strange and varied. Liquid metal gave it the ability to undergo endless changes. It could even land beside Ariana and take on her appearance.
A part of the camera extended and liquefied, turning into a silver arm that handed over a paper envelope.
John took it. On the front was beautiful handwriting written with a quill pen. And the name at the end brought a smile to his face.
"Cedric," he read softly, his smile impossible to hide.
His thoughts returned to his time at Hogwarts. A Hufflepuff senior, a well-deserved source of Hufflepuff pride. John looked at the letter, which had come from abroad, and a group photo that had been included.
In the photo was a family of three. On the face of the Hufflepuff boy, there were now traces of time. He was more mature, but still the kind of person who made others feel at ease. The man, wearing a brown sweater, held the shoulder of an Asian woman next to him. Between them, a boy who had inherited his parents' best features had the same warm smile as his father. The woman was Cedric's wife and John's senior, Cho Chang. A Ravenclaw, and Ravenclaw's Seeker. Their being together was the result everyone had hoped for.
John had witnessed their marriage. It was the best wedding, held in the Wizard City of the Magic Kingdom, with a rainbow bridge built as a crossing. Candy and flowers were scattered along the way, making it one of the "Top Ten Most Successful Wizard Weddings."
The Hufflepuff student from back then was now a husband and a father. He was off on the adventures he loved, writing them into books that sold well in publishing houses.
John looked at the letter and could almost imagine Cedric speaking in his gentle voice.
"Mr. Diggory's Wonderful Journey." I didn't find out about it immediately; that was my negligence.
His fingers rubbed the paper. John hadn't expected to meet Cedric this way first. He had originally planned to visit his friends upon his return to the Magical Country. Unexpectedly, Cedric had seen him while passing through New York on the Wizard train. He couldn't say hello at the time. After leaving, he had started his adventure, recording interesting things along the way.
"I think you will like these stories, John."
Seeing the end of the letter, John stopped his fingers from turning the pages. These thick, dense letters were not as touching as hearing the stories in person.
John selected a few meaningful short stories and recorded them in Ariana's magic book. They could also be used for learning in Magic schools.
His finger touched the star symbol on the envelope, and he reached up to touch his chest. He used to have one there, too.
As for now…
John withdrew his fingers. It seemed the holiday should end.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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