HP: At the beginning, I influenced Snape's childhood.

It was evening. Lin Mo sat in his study, a lamp beside him casting a dim yellow light. The flickering flame illuminated his face, obscuring his expression.

Bathed in the firelight, a shadow of darkness flickered in his eyes, and specks of light fell on the folds of his clothes, creating distinct patches of black and white. The dim light only illuminated half of him.

The eye in the darkness was as still as a deep well, its beautiful amber color turning into a black gemstone due to the lack of light. The other eye, however, was illuminated by the firelight, reflecting a faint glow. Its color was like that of a noble cat, with a deep brown radiating outwards from within through the crystalline brown, like the twilight at sunset.

The light shifted between light and shadow, and the lamplight fell on his well-defined right hand with a powerful intensity. His thumb rubbed unconsciously, as if it were a subconscious action as he pondered.

The light shining obliquely from the side made the light and shadow on his right hand more obvious, and the faint blue veins reflected small dark areas. In this not-too-glaring light, his hand was particularly beautiful.

He leaned back in his chair, his left arm draped over the armrests, exuding a relaxed air. However, the slight shadow cast by his furrowed brow broke this atmosphere.

The oppressive, stifling atmosphere made it almost impossible for him to breathe, but instead of gasping for air, he breathed slowly and calmly, as if he had been forced to accept the encroachment of darkness.

His eyes had lost the gleam they held when he faced Snape during the day; his flickering expression made it impossible to discern the true emotions hidden within them. A clever spy would always employ this kind of disguise.

If he hadn't stood by the campfire in the darkness, he might have long since become one of the black ones. However... although his left eye was hidden in the shadows, the light reflected into it unexpectedly shone a bewitching blue onto his otherwise dark pupil.

As if just coming to his senses, he slightly adjusted his posture and looked at the faint firelight. As if subconsciously, when he saw the light, which was not dazzling, he covered his left eye with one hand.

As one of the best among those who have undergone special training, Lin Mo's eyes can withstand strong light and prolonged periods of time with his eyes open. Not to mention that his own physical condition is excellent, and his eyesight is as outstanding as his code name suggests.

A falcon is a bird with narrow, pointed wings, a short, wide beak, and a curved upper beak with serrated projections. It is a fast flyer, a bird of prey, and adept at attacking other birds.

Birds possess the best eyesight in the animal kingdom, and the saker falcon is among the best, with a visual range of up to 36 kilometers, making it a renowned long-range visionary.

Lin Mo's codename is "Ink Falcon".

However, he instinctively protected his eye. Lin Mo suddenly woke up as if by a start, slowly lowered his hand, revealing his slightly strange left eye, but unfortunately... there was nothing there.

Lin Mo stared at the only light in the dimly lit study. After a short while, a faint red appeared in the white of his left eye, and blood vessels spread into his somewhat empty pupil. However, his right eye remained normal as if nothing had happened.

Only when his left eye went from sore to dry to stinging did he seem to let go of himself and look away. He gently tapped the table with his right hand, and the study became as bright as day.

Lin Mo took out a piece of wood from the space that Chang Feng had given him.

The strange, dark wood resembles a traditional Chinese ink painting, with its interplay of light and shadow. Golden halos seem to dance among the wood like spirits, captivating the viewer. Just the right amount of silver flecks remain, quietly exuding elegance and nobility… everything on this uncut and uncarved piece of wood still manages to showcase its stunning beauty.

Holding the wood in his hand, Lin Mo examined it carefully. He had to admit that the materials Changfeng had provided were truly excellent. Like a blue mechanical cat, Lin Mo somehow conjured a dagger.

Even Changfeng didn't know how Lin Mo managed to conjure objects remotely, since he knew very well that Lin Mo hadn't used the system space.

He gripped the hilt, drew the sword, and a silvery-white light reflected off the wall, faintly revealing Lin Mo's face on the blade, devoid of joy or sorrow.

He held the knife horizontally, pressed down on the back of the blade with his left thumb, and began to slowly cut into the wood... The wood carving gradually took shape.

A——L——W——A——Y——S

Lin Mo dusted off the sawdust from his hands, wiped the dagger with a handkerchief, and sheathed it. He then took out a large silver vessel from his spatial storage. He slowly placed the carved wooden sculpture in the center. Thinking about what Changfeng had told him, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself: This process is so much like a sacrificial ritual.

Lin Mo placed the vessel on the table not far from himself, sat up straight, raised his right hand and pointed in the air, softly chanting: "Incendio (Burning Flames)."

Flames rose from the vessel, the dark wood burning fiercely. The fire grew larger and larger, obscuring Lin Mo's view as he continued to explore the vessel. The somewhat dazzling light caused a red tinge to reappear in Lin Mo's left eye.

Lin Mo lowered his head, closed his eyes, and gently rubbed them with his palms. A stinging pain spread through his eyes, as if they were about to explode. Sensing the less-than-optimistic state of his eyes, Lin Mo sighed softly. Something seemed to be hidden within those resolute black pupils.

Lin Mo paused briefly to catch his breath, then stood up, ignoring the reaction in the vessel, and walked towards the opposite wall of books, examining the labels on each shelf. Approaching the shelf labeled "Potions," he picked out a very antique-looking book, seemingly a rare copy found by Chang Feng.

Lin Mo didn't go back to sit down; instead, he stood next to the bookshelf and flipped through the book... The flames in the vessel didn't seem to be stopping. With the wood changing the flames, they turned blue, and the eerie tongues of fire seemed to be burning everything to ashes.

Time gradually refined the wooden carving in the vessel, and Lin Mo also quickly turned the pages of the book. Just when the flames were burning at their strongest, Lin Mo stopped what he was doing.

A slight popping sound suddenly came from the desk. Lin Mo closed the book and put it back in its original place, then quickly walked to the container.

The reaction had now completely ended; the scrap wood in the vessel had disappeared, while the central wood carving remained intact... or rather, even more stunning.

Namu is depicted as a falcon soaring with outstretched wings, its fully extended wings seemingly displaying every feather to its fullest extent. The overall dark color resembles a sharp sword about to pierce the silent night.

A shimmering gold adorns a few of the most important feathers, giving the impression of a dignified and imposing ruler, confident and noble. Tiny silver lines surround the perimeter of each feather, understated yet steady, resolute yet sharp.

The falcon's eyes, after being scorched and baptized by flames, revealed a deep blue gleam, like the azure sky and the deep, calm sea combined, embodying both freedom and hope, as well as mystery and the turbulent undercurrent hidden beneath the tranquility. The power and protectiveness of the blue color were fully displayed at this moment.

"This kind of wood has fire-retardant properties, so it's not very useful, but it looks nice," Changfeng said.

"I still want to thank you for providing the materials. If I'm not confused, tomorrow is Christmas Eve, so it'll be finished by then." Lin Mo replied to Chang Feng, tidying up the table as he did so, and glancing at his watch... Well, no need to sleep anymore, the sun is up.