After the internet was disconnected, I connected to the magic world.

In the alchemy room on the third basement level of Blackrock Castle, the strange smell of sulfur mixed with herbs was so pungent that it made one's nose sting.

The demonic fire beneath the bronze crucible licked at the bottom, and the dark green potion bubbled and bubbled.

Corrosive green smoke billowed out, eroding the nearby black stone wall into countless small pits.

Grindelwald was dressed in a faded, coarse cloth servant's uniform, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His forearms were covered with needle marks and a newly healed pink scar.

That was left two days ago when McGonagall cut a piece of flesh from his fingertip for an elemental affinity test.

He stood by the crucible, clutching a silver stirring spoon, his eyes fixed on the boiling potion, barely daring to breathe.

"Grindelwald".

McGonagall, dressed in an embroidered silver-black robe, stood by the cauldron. Her hooked nose cast a shadowy light in the firelight. She tapped the edge of the cauldron with her wand without looking up.

"Go to the third floor of the ice cellar, bring over the frozen gray wolf heart, and also get a jar of rock spider molt fragments."

Remember, don't touch the bottle of miasma toad venom on the far left of the shelf. If it gets on your skin, it will rot to the bone within 15 minutes.

"Yes, sir."

Grindelwald immediately bowed in agreement, and quietly pushed open the small iron door in the corner. A bone-chilling cold air rushed out, making him shiver.

The stone shelves in the ice cellar were filled with magical beast organs soaking in a solution:

The wing membranes of a shadow bat, the claws of a black-striped tiger, the stinger of a red-tailed scorpion, and even human fingers soaked until white.

These are all players who couldn't hold on before.

He found his way to the third floor with practiced ease, picked up the frozen, rock-hard wolf heart still covered in ice crystals, and scooped out a small half-spoon of grayish-white fine powder from the earthenware pot next to it.

The powder was as fine as dandruff; it was the frost that a first-tier rock spider shed from its carapace each time it molted, and it was the most commonly used ingredient for making basic potions.

As he walked back carrying the things, he touched the burn scar on the back of his hand that had just healed.

That was from the potion that splashed out when I was helping McGonagall start the fire yesterday.

At the time, McGonagall simply threw him a bottle of the cheapest healing medicine without asking him a single question.

Other players would have been cursing by now, but Grindelwald didn't harbor the slightest resentment.

He knew all too well how valuable his current position was.

Five days ago, he was teleported to the Black Forest of the Western Continent, along with hundreds of other players.

Upon seeing the black-robed wizard and the armored warrior, they cried and ran into the depths of the forest.

He was the only one who didn't run away.

In reality, he is a travel anchor who has traveled to more than 30 countries.

Last year, I even went to China to climb the Great Wall and photograph lesser-known spots, and I gritted my teeth and studied Chinese for more than half a year.

I can communicate normally without any problems, and I can recognize seven or eight hundred simplified Chinese characters.

He spends all his free time reading Chinese online novels, so he knows the rules of these alternate worlds all too well.

Why run away when you see a local superhuman?

Those warriors could split rocks with a single sword strike, and a wizard could flatten half a bush with a fireball. Could a two-legged person outrun magic?

He witnessed firsthand the retired soldier who was running at the front being shot through the chest and pinned to a tree by an arrow.

I saw the female player hiding behind the tree being dragged away by vines. Later, when I found her body by the experimental table, all her blood had been drained.

Everyone else ran, but he knelt down with a "plop" and raised all his belongings above his head.

He shouted in his newly learned, broken language.

"I surrender! I'm willing to be your servant! I'll do anything!"

And just like that, he became McGonagall's property.

At first, McGonagall didn't treat him like a human being at all; he was just a living experiment, with blood drawn and flesh cuts taken from him every day to test his affinity.

Once, they forced him to drink half a bottle of experimental potion. He was in so much pain that he rolled on the ground for three hours, gritting his teeth without uttering a single cry of pain.

The first thing I said when I woke up was

"Sir, have you recorded the experimental data? Would you like another vial of blood drawn?"

After five days of hard work, he went from being a test subject awaiting dissection to becoming a personal servant.

He was allowed to work as an assistant in the alchemy room. Yesterday, McGonagall even gave him a book full of basic meditation techniques written in Chinese, telling him to learn more characters in his spare time.

Those compatriots who shout "freedom" and "resistance" every day on the regional channels are still being chased like rabbits in the forest.

They died one after another, only to be resurrected and chased again. They couldn't even get a hot meal, let alone touch magic.

Greenleaf sneered inwardly.

free?

What's the point of freedom if you're dead?

Those fools have no idea that the biggest obstacle in their path isn't NPCs, but the words themselves.

He had studied Chinese and knew all too well how difficult it was.

The English alphabet, spelled out with twenty-six letters, is like a two-dimensional piece of paper touching a three-dimensional living person when faced with Chinese characters.

It would take an ordinary person three to five years to go from having no prior knowledge to being able to understand ancient cultivation manuals.

Three to five years?

Once they learn to read, China's innate superhumans will be able to fly over the White House and throw fireballs.

He can't wait.

But becoming a wizard is different.

Meditation can boost mental strength, and with higher mental strength, memory and comprehension can increase tenfold or a hundredfold.

Then I'll learn Chinese, and within six months I'll be able to understand all the basic techniques and even touch those mysterious runes.

In this world, Chinese is the way.

He carried the item back to the alchemy room and respectfully handed it to McGonagall.

McGonagall glanced at him, tapped the silver spoon in his hand with her wand, and the splashing potion instantly calmed down.

"Grindelwald," McGonagall said in a hoarse voice.

"How long have you been following me?"

Greenlido immediately bowed even deeper, his tone brimming with just the right amount of gratitude:

"Sir, it has been exactly five days since you picked me up in the Black Forest five days ago, didn't send me to the dissection table with those idiots, and even took me in as your servant."

Two days ago, you drew seven vials of my blood and cut a small piece of flesh from my fingertip for experiments.

You even taught me to identify twelve ingredients for magic potions. I will never forget your kindness.

McGonagall laughed heartily upon hearing this and tapped his shoulder with her wand:

"You little alien, you sure know how to sweet-talk."

The people I caught were either crying or shouting, and some even tried to bite my neck while I was sleeping. Only you, instead of running away, actually offered your arm for me to draw blood.

"You didn't mistake any of the twelve materials I taught you yesterday. Your learning speed is much faster than the apprentices in the castle. It suits my taste."

"It is my honor to be able to work for you, sir."

"Stop flattering me," McGonagall said, though her tone was much more relaxed.

With a wave of his wand, the heavy stone door at the innermost part of the alchemy room opened with a loud bang, and the cold, bloody smell mixed with the chill wafted out.

"Come with me. You're lucky today. I'm happy to give you a chance."

Greenleaf's heart skipped a beat. Suppressing the excitement that was about to leap out of his throat, he quickly followed.

Behind the door was a blood storage room covered with freezing runes; the moment you stepped inside, the cold was so intense it made your bones ache.

Rows of stone shelves were filled with crystal bottles containing blood of various colors; some were calm, while others writhed wildly inside, like living creatures.

McGonagall casually picked up a dark purple bottle, the blood inside bobbing against the bottle's sides like tiny bats.

"This is the blood of a first-tier Shadow Bat. Drinking it grants night vision, allowing you to see ants a hundred meters away in the dark."

But if you're afraid of light, you'll spend your whole life hiding in the gutter like a rat, with no future.

He picked up another bottle of murky gray blood: "Gray wolf blood. Drinking it will triple your strength, and you can shatter stones with one punch."

However, they are prone to going berserk. Last month, one of my servants who chose wolf blood bit off his own arm on the night of the full moon, and I threw it to feed the spiders.

Next is the Black-striped Tiger Blood, which is stronger but also more violent.

Miasma and toad blood can make one immune to all poisons, but will cause one to develop pustules all over the body.

Rock spiders have blood and can spin silk, but they have six small eyes on their foreheads, which is disgusting to look at.

Greedo's heart pounded as he listened.

This is to select a bloodline for him, to make him a wizard!

He suppressed his excitement as he scanned all the bottles, finally landing on two bottles in the corner.

One is grayish-silver, with blood inside writhing like a small snake. The label reads "Gray-Scaled Serpent," a first-tier magical beast that is fast and carries a weak poison.

The other one is fiery red, with the air around the bottle distorting as if small flames are dancing, and the label reads "Fire Feather Red Sparrow".

The bottle was warm to the touch, like holding a piece of warm jade, and a lively fire seemed to seep into his body through the bottle's walls.

He then picked up the bottle of Firefeather Red Sparrow, and warmth instantly spread throughout his body, even dissipating much of the cold air in the ice cellar.

The fiery energy in the bottle seemed to resonate subtly with his spirit.

"Sir, I choose this one." He held the bottle and looked up, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised: "Firefeathered Red Sparrow? This thing is fast and can breathe small flames, but its strength in the early stages is less than half that of a wolf. Have you thought this through?"

Choose tiger blood or wolf blood, and you'll die far fewer times when hunting monsters.

"Sir, I am your servant, my life is yours, there is no need for me to fight monsters with brute force."

Greenleaf bowed, his tone sincere.

"All I need to do is stay by your side, mix medicines, organize materials, take notes, and run errands."

"Fire Feather's bloodline is gentle, and he's not easily swayed by ferocity. He won't let his rage interfere with your affairs. I think he's the most suitable for me."

McGonagall found these words particularly pleasing, and he tapped the bottle, his tone carrying a hint of approval:

"Not bad, at least you have some self-awareness."

Those fools who immediately rushed to grab tiger and wolf blood ended up being devoured by ferocity and turned into killing monsters. Only you are clear-headed and don't crave that useless brute force.

He turned and walked towards the alchemy room, his black robe sweeping across the stone bricks: "Take the bottle and come with me. Today I will personally refine this Bloodline Awakening Potion for you."

Remember, if your blood vessels burst from the medication, I won't waste a second bottle to save you.

Grindelwald gripped the crystal bottle tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the force. He nodded vigorously, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement:

"Yes, sir! I will certainly not let you down!"