Leon didn't panic.
Panicking wouldn't help.
Besides, he'd already seen everything—things he was supposed to see and things he definitely wasn't.
Sure, Voldemort was skilled at Legilimency and Occlumency, but compared to a master like Grindelwald? He was leagues behind.
Voldemort's real strengths were dark magic and human transfiguration.
Leon, at best, was like a teenage version of Voldemort. What chance did he have against Grindelwald?
Since fighting was pointless, he might as well lean into it and give up resisting.
Legilimency didn't exactly come with a keyword search function.
Leon had nearly twenty years of full-time education, from kindergarten to university!
Plus, ten years as a wizard apprentice, ten years as a voracious reader of web novels, a level-6 master of snarky online comments, a seasoned forum debater, and a certified critic of short-form videos!
His mind was a chaotic ocean of information.
Add to that the encryption of the Chinese language and its insane information density compared to other languages.
Trying to dig out wizarding secrets from Leon's mental mess was like panning for gold in a dung heap.
It'd keep Grindelwald, that old codger, busy until he keeled over from old age.
Feeling untouchable, Leon slouched into the sofa, sprawling out in a pose of complete surrender.
"I mean no harm. I just stumbled across something… interesting," Grindelwald said, his hand still extended.
"The world's been dull for too long. Finally, someone intriguing shows up…"
Leon's body relaxed, but his mind was on high alert, dissecting every word Grindelwald uttered.
Before he could sort his thoughts, Grindelwald grabbed his arm.
With a faint pop, they vanished.
All that remained was a garish, Barbie-pink feather, lazily twirling as it drifted onto the sofa.
It felt like being shoved through a tight rubber tube—Leon's body ached, his breath caught in his chest.
He was suffocating.
Then, cool air flooded his lungs.
"Huff… huff…"
Leon gasped for breath, his right arm still in Grindelwald's grip. No chance to bolt.
Surprising, but not unexpected.
This old-school Dark Lord was several tiers above the chatty Voldemort.
Not a word wasted, not a moment's hesitation.
He'd Apparated them straight out of Leon's comfort zone.
The situation was unclear, and escape wasn't looking easy.
Better to play it safe and bide his time.
Leon subtly scanned his surroundings.
To his shock, they were in a university lecture hall, the kind you'd see in any Muggle campus.
A bald professor was passionately lecturing, students packed into the front three rows.
No one noticed two people popping into the back row out of nowhere.
What in Merlin's name?
Crashing a uni class?
And… was this lecture straight out of an ancient computer science course?
Hold on, mate.
A pure-blood wizard like you, ditching magic to study science?
And not just any science—1990s computer science, of all things.
Pretty cutting-edge.
But what's a wizard going to do with coding?
Build an auto-casting spell launcher or something?
Leon's head was full of question marks.
He glanced at Grindelwald, who didn't spare him a look.
With a wave of his left hand, Grindelwald transformed his monocle into spectacles, pulled out a notebook and quill, and started taking notes like a model student.
His focus and seriousness blended perfectly with the room full of academic overachievers—minus Leon, of course.
Not that Leon was a slacker.
His almost-graduated university wasn't some no-name diploma mill.
He knew a bit of basic coding.
But this lecture, with its 1930s-level tech gap, might as well have been in Ancient Runes.
Left, right, up, down—it was all gibberish.
Its only redeeming quality? It was soporific.
Leon yawned, his gaze wandering, fingers picking at the chair, legs jiggling. His inner troublemaker was itching to cause a scene.
In his past life, Leon was no goody-two-shoes. But with a frail body, an orphan's background, and a face too pretty for his own good, playing the quiet, well-behaved kid brought too many perks to pass up.
So he'd buried his inner rascal and spent twenty years as the charming, obedient poster child.
He'd worn that mask so long he almost forgot how wicked he could be.
But now, reborn with a healthy body, a hearty appetite, and food from the "Ying" region that made him taller than his peers, things were different.
His slightly eccentric mum doted on him, filling the void of family he'd missed.
His tool of a dad helped him inherit an ancient, wealthy wizarding family.
Top-tier looks, top-tier magical talent.
Aside from the bald little nuisance called Voldemort, life was carefree. He could do whatever he wanted.
This impulsive reincarnation was like hitting the jackpot.
Leon even felt that if he didn't live this life with reckless abandon, he'd be spitting in the face of fate's generosity.
Back to the present, in this increasingly nerdy atmosphere, Leon was getting antsy. He needed to stir up some chaos.
He sneaked a glance at Grindelwald.
The old man wasn't exactly a saint, but he had some class.
Surely he wouldn't stoop as low as Voldemort and go after a kid… right?
Leon psyched himself up.
Why make a scene? First, because he felt like it, so why not?
Second, to test why Grindelwald had nabbed him.
And third, if he could make a break for it, even better.
No need to overthink—just do it!
Leon propped himself up with one hand and hopped onto the desk.
Looking down his nose at Grindelwald, he unleashed a torrent of nonsense:
"Oi! What kind of fiend are you, dragging me to some unknown place?!"
"Family, who gets it? One minute I'm in the bath, singing my heart out, and the next, I'm kidnapped by a villain!"
"This old git's up to no good! Probably wants to gobble up kids!"
"Hey, old man, say something!"
"Speak! You've got the guts to snatch a kid, so have the guts to talk!"
"Answer me! Look me in the eyes and answer!"
"What? Speak! If you don't, I'm gonna make a scene!…"
Leon's shouts were loud enough to shake the dust from the ceiling.
He followed with a combo: rolling on the floor, kicking, flailing, tearing paper, tossing pens, and running amok.
His antics were smooth, practiced, and gloriously chaotic.
Clearly, he was a seasoned troublemaker.
The entire room acted deaf and blind, oblivious to the commotion.
Grindelwald sat like a rock, unmoved, until Leon nearly slipped out the door. Then, with a flick of his hand, he yanked Leon back to his seat.
Leon froze.
Wait. That move… it felt eerily like how he grabbed his parrot back home…
Before he could finish the thought, a knock to the head sent his vision to black.
Yup, that felt familiar too.
Was he being treated like a pet now?!
Terrifying!
Snore… snore… zzz…
Leon had a nightmare.
He dreamed Grindelwald was holding a knife, slicing his back like a chef prepping a fish for steaming, each cut making him howl in pain.
Then, still fresh, he was tossed into a cauldron, simmering in a rich potion broth, bubbling away on low heat.
In his daze, Leon swore he could smell cooked meat…
Gasp!
He jolted awake.
Oh, not a hallucination—there was actual meaty aroma.
Across from him, Grindelwald was slicing a steak, the savory scent wafting everywhere.
New location.
Had he slept through to dinner time?
"Order what you want," Grindelwald said, nodding toward a menu on the table in front of Leon.
Leon didn't dare eat in front of Grindelwald—too risky, what if the food was laced with Veritaserum? So he changed the subject:
"Alright, big shot, fess up. Why'd you drag me out here?"
Grindelwald raised an eyebrow, giving Leon a long look.
"To show you the Muggle world."
He snapped his fingers.
The unnaturally quiet environment exploded into life.
The soft chatter of restaurant patrons, the clink of cutlery, waiters taking orders, footsteps shuffling, laughter from passersby outside, car horns on the street, and a busker's song drifting in…
A vibrant, colorful, living world.