Harry Potter, the savior of Night City

"What did you say?!" Pansy couldn't believe her ears.

"I said, fuck you, bitch, is that clear enough, you stinking idiot?" Harry looked at her, repeatedly saying, "Get your stud dog out of my sight, you filthy bitch."

Pansy's face flushed crimson. She wanted to say something, but didn't know how. "You monster! You're a beast!"

"Put some effort into it, you're swearing like you're being affectionate." Harry yawned. "Saying that in bed doesn't necessarily get me an erection."

Filthy words kept coming out of Harry's mouth; the excellent education he received in Night City had given him an incredible vocabulary.

"Harry Potter!" Professor McGonagall has arrived.

"You, how dare you!" Professor McGonagall saw Harry grabbing Malfoy's head, and having just heard Harry's words, she now resembled a furious lion. "How dare you do such a thing!"

"Professor, it was Malfoy and his group who went first..."

"Shut up, Mr. Weasley."

"Harry, come with me. Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, you take Mr. Malfoy to the infirmary, quick!" Professor McGonagall strode toward the headmaster's office. Harry followed Professor McGonagall, while Pansy watched smugly. Then, she and the other Slytherin students quickly lifted Mr. Malfoy and carried him toward the infirmary.

"Lemon Snowball".

Professor McGonagall led Harry to a giant stone beast, gave the command, and the beast jumped aside, revealing a spiral staircase in front of them.

Walking up the stairs to the principal's office, McGonagall knocked on the door and went inside.

"Headmaster, you must handle this carefully!" Professor McGonagall said seriously to Dumbledore.

"I understand, you may leave now." A wise, aged voice rang out. Professor McGonagall nodded and withdrew, leaving Harry and Dumbledore facing each other.

"Sit down, Harry." Dumbledore beckoned and placed a chair in front of Harry.

Harry sat down, looking at Dumbledore, ready to see what the old man was up to. But just as he met Dumbledore's eyes, that feeling of memories being unearthed returned, only to be blocked again by the prosthetics on his forehead. And this time, something else entered his prosthetics, but quickly escaped on its own.

Harry's face darkened, and the mantis knife sprang from his arm, slamming it into Dumbledore's face. "Old man, do you want to meet God?!"

Dumbledore's expression remained unchanged as he calmly reassured Harry, "Calm down, son, calm down. Want some candy?" He handed Harry a piece of candy.

Harry didn't take the candy Dumbledore offered, but he slowly sheathed his mantis knife, leaned back, and sat down in his chair.

"Very good, Harry, very good. Suppress your anger, don't let it control you." Dumbledore looked at Harry with satisfaction. "Although I don't know why you've become like this, deep down, you're still the kind-hearted Harry."

Harry had absolutely no idea what the old man in front of him was talking about. Kindness? What did that have to do with him? He was the Bloodthirsty Son of Heywood, the youngest mercenary. What did kindness have to do with him?

Dumbledore had no idea what Harry was thinking, so he could only change the subject.

"Harry, you've gone too far this time," Dumbledore said. "He's just a child."

"So I spared his life," Harry said nonchalantly.

Seeing Harry's unyielding attitude, Dumbledore rubbed his temples in exasperation and then said, "You must apologize to him for this. Professor Snape will take you there."

"Huh? Apologize? What are you talking about, old man? Don't you know anything about the cause and effect?" Harry saw Dumbledore's expression change. His impression of Dumbledore began to change into that of a snob who provided convenience to corporate dogs. Such people are often more dangerous than corporate dogs. They have no bottom line when it comes to doing things for their own benefit.

"Oh, you've misunderstood me." Dumbledore saw Harry's expression and immediately realized his misunderstanding. "The harm you've caused Mr. Malfoy is indeed great, both physically and mentally." He paused, then continued, "You are both Slytherin students, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, you will be studying together for another seven years. Relationships between classmates are very important for children your age, so..."

"Okay, okay, I understand." Harry didn't want to listen to the old man's long-winded explanation, so he agreed and then made his own request. "However, those students, including Malfoy, must apologize to Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Pettier."

"I can agree to that. I will speak to them myself," Dumbledore readily agreed.

"Well, that's all for me, I'll be going now." Harry stood up, ready to leave.

"To be honest, there is one more thing," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry. "I heard that Professor Quirrell wants you to go to his office almost every day?"

Harry sat down again, grabbed a few candies from in front of Dumbledore, and stuffed them into his mouth. "Yeah, he tells me that bullshit Philosopher's Stone story every day."

Dumbledore's eyes gleamed. After a moment's thought, he looked up at Harry. "Then, I hope you can keep an eye on him and tell me about the daily changes in his so-called Philosopher's Stone 'story'."

"Is this a commission?" Harry's tone became serious.

"If that's your view, it could be a commission." Dumbledore nodded.

"So, how much is the reward? What percentage will I get?" Harry's tone became serious, and his words adopted the same style as in Night City.

"Report, the reward?" Dumbledore was caught off guard by Harry's words, but he quickly composed himself. "Don't worry, there will be a reward that will satisfy you."

"Well then, I'll take this job." Harry thought Dumbledore wouldn't lie to someone who still looked like a child, so he agreed without thinking too much about it.

"Then I'll wait for your good news."

Harry stood up, waved, and walked out of the headmaster's office.

Behind him, Dumbledore, seated in a chair, asked, "Severus, how is it?"

Snape emerged from the darkness and looked at Dumbledore. "I don't know. Diagnostic magic shows Harry is healthy, unusually healthy, but under magical probing, many parts of his body are not right."

"Specifically...?"

"Sixty percent of his body is not his own; it's more like it's artificial."

"Is that so..." Dumbledore lowered his head. "What happened? Why have you become like this, Harry..."

Snape glanced at Dumbledore and asked, "So, what do you intend to do to him?"

"I believe him"

"Ha." Snape chuckled coldly and left the headmaster's office, leaving Dumbledore sitting in his chair deep in thought.