"..."
A few seconds later, Quirrell slowly got up from the ground and sat obediently on the chair Ethan had levitated over. He gave Ethan a smile that looked like he was about to cry.
He had been completely domesticated.
Sad.
The light from above shone on Quirrell, making him look less like a professor and more like a prisoner facing an interrogator. He looked extremely desolate, his entire person gray and pale.
Ethan, you shouldn't be at Hogwarts. You should be in the high-security prison, Nurmengard. Living next door to Grindelwald!
...
"...Their foreheads are flat, with almost no eyelids. Though they are on land, their mouths are wide open, gasping as if they can't get enough oxygen. And on both sides of their necks, flesh is piled up, forming folds like gills. Hmm, this information comes from the Manuscript of the Innsmouth Diary."
"These are features of further human development, yet they present signs of regression. Don't you find that very interesting, Professor Quirrell?"
"..."
Professor Quirrell's ears were numb from listening. His eyes were glazed, red veins climbing the whites, his brain buzzing.
Mental pollution. This was mental pollution!
Heaven knows how this brat found those terrifying books. Perhaps evil forces attract each other.
"Dong... Dong... Dong..."
At that moment, the low and melodious chime of a clock sounded from outside the window. As if breaking an invisible film, Quirrell jolted awake with a start.
Ethan waved his wand, and golden dust formed the current time in mid-air: 12:01.
"Oh my, it's midnight in the blink of an eye," Ethan chuckled lightly. "It's getting late. I've gained a lot tonight, so let's stop here for now, Professor Quirrell."
"O-okay...!"
As if granted a great pardon, Quirrell shot up from his seat, forced a smile, and stumbled toward the door. His back view had a distinct air of fleeing in panic.
"By the way."
Behind him, that hellish voice sounded again.
Quirrell froze, turning his head bit by bit to see Ethan Vincent standing in the dimness. Perhaps because he was leaving, the lights in the classroom had been extinguished. Only the bright moonlight from outside the window was barely enough to outline Ethan's figure.
Ethan's upper face was hidden in shadow, only showing his well-shaped lips opening and closing against his pale jaw:
"Don't forget to prepare the materials I mentioned, Professor Quirrell. Of course, since the quantity is not small, I'll tell Headmaster Dumbledore to help you contact purchase channels... you might even get a discount."
Hearing that name, Quirrell's heart skipped a beat. He stared at Ethan with sweaty palms, unable to see what expression this sinister and bizarre boy was wearing.
In a daze, Quirrell almost thought Ethan knew everything and was using Dumbledore to threaten him.
But then again, Quirrell thought it was impossible. Ethan was a new student, his mind full of those blasphemous and terrifying paintings. How could he possibly know his secret with Voldemort? He was probably just pursuing his art and trying to fleece him.
But because of his Master's command, he couldn't resist. With Dumbledore above him, he didn't dare act rashly. Less than half a term had passed, and he still hadn't found a way to get the Philosopher's Stone. He still had to survive in this disgusting school.
Quirrell gritted his teeth and forced a laugh: "Th-then I'll have to trouble you... Mr. Vincent."
With that, Quirrell left without looking back. The moment he turned, the smile on his face collapsed, replaced by extreme resentment.
Once he had plundered this brat's talents, or when his Master lost interest... Ethan Vincent, I will make you wish you were dead!
Watching Quirrell's stumbling departure, Ethan let out a satisfied breath. Indeed, discussing his aesthetic art with a villainous dark wizard was more invigorating. No need to worry about the other party's mental health.
The reason Ethan brought up Dumbledore to pressure Quirrell was, besides making him behave, also to make Quirrell obtain the living portrait materials through legitimate channels. Otherwise, wouldn't it encourage poachers?
Ethan praised himself for being so thoughtful and considerate. Today was another day of doing good deeds. Ah, he was almost moved by his own kindness, a truly good person!
Just then, a line of blue subtitles appeared before his eyes:
[You absorb knowledge like a shadow absorbs light. You are not far from advancement.]
[You have obtained the "Erudition" trait!]
[Your speed of learning spells and absorbing knowledge has increased.]
[When Erudition accumulates to a certain level, you will acquire a new skill.]
[This will be helpful for the rituals required to create living portraits.]
As if dawn was breaking, rays of sunlight like sharp arrows pierced through the mist-shrouded sky. Ethan felt his mind become clearer and more open. Past spells appeared one by one in his mind, their complex and difficult models clearly outlined.
Ethan waved his wand, and the incantation naturally flowed from his mouth: "Disillusionment Charm."
A shimmering distortion rippled over him. Like a basin of cold slime being poured over his head, Ethan watched as his clothes and body began to "melt," taking on the texture of the background.
Success!
Ethan's pupils constricted. He naturally remembered the spell Sean had used to trouble him during the selection. Other young wizards might think, "I'm a lower-year student, it's natural I don't know it."
But Ethan understood that in the upcoming official competition, no one would go easy on him because he was a lower-year student! They might even think he was weak and eliminate him first.
Ethan was not afraid of any challenge. And he would not allow himself to accept that he was inferior to anyone! He would forge ahead bravely, using his strength to show those people what kind of opponent was standing before them!
Therefore, Ethan had been practicing the difficult Disillusionment Charm in private and often consulted Professor Flitwick. But he had never been able to successfully cast it.
And now, looking at his transparent body, the surprise in Ethan's heart was about to overflow!
Success! He had successfully cast the Disillusionment Charm for the first time! The parts he didn't understand before had become clear and transparent with the help of the "Erudition" trait. This was the power of "Erudition"!
If he advanced further and fully acquired a new skill, how powerful would that be...
Ethan couldn't help but let his imagination run wild. This distraction caused the Disillusionment Charm to snap, and his body reappeared.
"Still need practice..." Ethan murmured. But he was already very satisfied with this result. Just like although he knew the complete process of making living portraits, he still needed to practice it himself. He had to practice everything personally.
The system's existence wasn't to live for him.
All the achievements I have now are the result of my own efforts!
Quirrell, pay up!
...
That night, in a hazy dream, Ethan heard a voice that seemed to come from very, very far away:
[Ethan Vincent... wake up, I need you... Ethan Vincent...]
It was a hoarse, weak voice, yet it contained an indelible pride, as if it once belonged to the ruler of countless beings. It was a woman's voice, full of seductive power.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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