Having escaped famine, I was accepted into Hogwarts

Kane declined Harry's suggestion: "No, Harry, I need to take care of my own things right now. It's like your package that you've been waiting for a month has finally arrived. Nothing can stop me from opening it as quickly as possible."

Harry and Ron shrugged helplessly and continued flying at low altitude. However, after flying for only a few seconds, the spirit particle decomposer over there began to emit a series of pleasant sounds.

Finally, there was Kane's bewildered voice.

"What the hell is this thing?"

Chapter Forty-Seven: The Swamp

The Spirit Disassembler didn't create physical Shadow Blade and Shadow Armor for Kane, but rather... the blueprints for those two items?

"Have some common sense, will you? Don't ever say you're from the Eternal Realm again, using a spirit particle decomposer to create Shadow Blade and Shadow Armor?" Maxwell appeared behind Kane and said bluntly.

"???"

Holding the two blueprints, the amnesiac patient was silent for a moment, then wished he could stuff himself into the big hat in front of him and disappear.

"So the Shadow Blade and Shadow Armor can't be made by the Spirit Particle Decomposer, and this piece of junk didn't give me any hints at all? And then it just made two blueprints for me?"

Kane, realizing he had been foolish enough to break his guard, instinctively wanted to kick the spirit particle decomposer, but then hesitated, pulled his foot back, and looked at Maxwell with a helpless expression: "You didn't even remind me."

"Anyway, they're all worthless materials. Let them make you happy for a few days. Besides, what's the point of reminding you? Or can you find amethyst here to make a Shadow Manipulator?"

Maxwell's explanation helped Kane successfully tuck himself into bed. After a long while, Kane crawled out of bed again and began to examine the two blueprints in his hands.

There's no Shadow Manipulator, but there's a blueprint, right? Maybe there's some ingenious way, like being able to handcraft a Shadow Blade by following the blueprint?

However, after examining the two blueprints for a long time, he realized that they were like recipes, useless except for theory. He had the recipes and the ingredients, but no pot.

"Hmm..." Kane silently looked at the two blueprints, but ultimately decided to avoid seeing them and tossed them into a drawer. He figured he could save on materials when he made the Shadow Manipulator...

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron, still flying in mid-air above the dormitory, watched Kane's series of perplexing actions, smacking their lips and shaking their heads.

Poor Kane was tormented by his mental illness to the point of near death.

And so it went until the afternoon. Harry went to practice with the Quidditch team, while Kane went to the library with practiced ease.

He planned to read books and research how to obtain amethyst as soon as possible, or where he could buy amethyst the size of a fist.

After finding a corner to sit down and read quietly, a little wizard sat down next to him, and he glanced at him.

"Huh? Aren't you sitting with your roommates?" Kane looked at Hermione, then at the few young wizards who always walked with Hermione, and asked instinctively.

"Because they misunderstood that I betrayed you, and they were too embarrassed to apologize to me, we've been giving each other the cold shoulder for a week. Haven't you noticed that I've been looking for you or Neville in class lately? It's because if they see me sitting alone, who knows what kind of rumors will spread, and it's really embarrassing to be all alone like that."

Hermione spoke in a voice that was only loud enough for the two of them, her eyes fixed on the book in front of her.

"Then I suggest you make some new friends, or try to repair that fragile friendship. Halloween is coming up soon, and it's quite lonely to spend it alone."

After saying that, Kane put down "How to Get a Beautiful Senior to Buy You Anything You Need Without Selling Your Sexuality" and went on to read the next magic book about swamp magic. The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was coming up, and if he didn't finish reading it, he could bring it to class. Anyway, Professor Quirrell's lectures were like chewing gum, sticky and difficult to read.

Also, I was thinking of going to Dumbledore to ask Professor Quirrell what was going on, but I was too busy and forgot. When I actually go there later, I'll ask him about it while I'm getting the Mandrake.

Although Old Mike is a bit cynical about things, he's pretty good at judging people...right?

Forget it, I'll just keep learning the Swamp Spell. This spell, combined with my own abilities, can create a swamp with spiked tentacles. Any enemy who dares to enter will get a beating, and shouting the safety word won't help.

Unlike Kane's constantly jumping thoughts, Hermione's little head always had a whiteboard with the Hermione Friendship Strengthening Plan written on it. At this moment, she was crossing out Kane's name on the whiteboard.

After all, Kane had just said things like she should find a friend as soon as possible, without mentioning at all that she and he had been friends for a long time...

Well... just as I expected. I thought we were friends, but it turns out they hadn't even thought about it. It was all just wishful thinking on my part. What I saw as genuine friendship was nothing more than polite formalities in their eyes...

Hermione's heart sank into tears, but on the surface, she acted as if nothing had happened, picked up the book in front of her, and left.

The next time they saw Hermione was during Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the afternoon. Kane and the other two huddled in a small corner of the classroom, where they could get a little away from the smell emanating from Professor Quirrell.

Hermione sat alone in a relatively close-up position because there were no empty seats behind her.

"Hiss..." Ron looked at Hermione's lonely figure and felt it was necessary to say something.

Finally, he spoke: "She seems to be..."

Kane and Harry quickly covered Ron's mouth; they already knew what kind of ivory Ron was about to spit out.

After the little incident, Professor Quirrell finally entered the classroom. He remembered that Voldemort had told him after returning from the Forbidden Forest that he should show some real skills in this class and then try to attract Kane's attention to ask him questions alone.

Although I don't know why, I've already become my master's dog, so why should I ask why? I just do as I'm told.

Just as he was thinking about what substantial information he should share, he suddenly noticed Kane sitting far away from him, with a book on Swamp Magic on his table. Very well, he would now demonstrate his true knowledge.

It's just a pity that the only cute and studious little wizard is so far away... Well, I can understand.

Kane was still reading when a still sticky, but surprisingly informative voice entered his head.

He looked up in confusion and found that the young wizards around him were all looking at Professor Quirrell as if he were a ghost.

Although the halting and stumbling voice is exhausting to listen to, it's really packed with useful information!

Professor Quirrell then spoke non-stop for a full forty minutes, only stopping for the last twenty minutes.

"Alright...alright little wizards, now, who...who can come up here and show us the Swamp spell?" Professor Quirrell waved his wand, slid the platform aside, and stepped down to make room for the platform.

Hermione was the first to raise her hand, and the applause she received was the most dismal.

It wasn't exactly bleak, after all, there were only a few people in the classroom, so the absence of two or three rounds of applause was quite noticeable.

As Hermione cast her spell on the platform, it quickly became soft and its color changed. The young wizards below fell silent, and even Hermione blushed with embarrassment.

In the end, Professor Quirrell, with his kind personality, took the lead in applause: "Give...give Miss Granger a round of applause. Swamp magic, most people who can, can only perform it are...fourth-year students. Miss Granger has done a very, very good job."

After saying that, he generously added one point to Gryffindor's score, and then began looking for his next target.

"Mr. Kanehis, please... please come up and demonstrate this spell!"

Chapter Forty-Eight: Tomb Raiding is Illegal

Hermione's face was pouting. She was now full of resentment towards Professor Quirrell because she had also read the swamp magic book that Kane had read in the library.

The entire book is full of principles, with not a single bit of practical feasibility. What Professor Quirrell just said in his lecture was just breaking down the principles of the Swamp Technique. The knowledge did slip into the brain, like 1+1, but without the final equal sign, you can't get 2.

If I hadn't read that book before, I might have been fooled by Professor Quirrell. But now that Kane has been called up, it's perfect. When he fails to cast the spell and goes back to tell Dumbledore or the big Celestial Dragon behind him, Professor Quirrell's disgusting behavior of teaching halfway through will naturally be punished.

Even though thinking this way made me feel a little gloomy, I really had no other choice... Waaaaah!

Kane, on the other hand, wore a mask of pain. He didn't care at all about demonstrating magic; what he really cared about was the incredibly abstract aura emanating from Professor Quirrell.

To be honest, if Professor Quirrell could maintain this level of teaching in every class, he would be willing to put up with it a little longer.

Kane stood on the podium, unconsciously keeping a slightly distance from Professor Quirrell. As his wand emitted a grayish-white light, a strange swamp with dark gray, eerie stripes and bubbling patterns instantly appeared on the podium.

Quirrell was somewhat surprised by what he saw. In order to complete his master's task, demonstrate his authoritative magical level, and attract Kane to seek him out for private lessons after class, he had deliberately held back a trick, all to prevent Kane from learning this spell.

What's the result now?

Is this script appropriate?

"Master, why don't I just keep Kane in the hall?" Quirrell whispered to Voldemort.

"Look for another opportunity. If you take the initiative to keep Kane here, it may attract Dumbledore's attention ahead of time."

Thus, Professor Quirrell, though heartbroken, put on a cheerful expression and led the entire classroom in applauding Kane, adding another five points to his score.

Hermione's clapping was a beat slow and she seemed a little dazed.

Hermione: ? ? ?

Hermione was silent, Hermione pondered, Hermione understood, Hermione felt relieved.

She seemed to have grasped some truths that were hard to accept at first, such as why Professor Quirrell only taught half of the lesson. Perhaps it wasn't because he was incompetent or a bad teacher, but because he was instructed to do so.

This artificially created gap between ordinary junior wizards and Celestial Dragon junior wizards... wow—this game of class can be played like this?

Kane, returning to his seat from the podium, scratched his head with a puzzled look. He wondered if Hermione had conjunctivitis. Had she lost her pearl? No, it couldn't be; it was probably just conjunctivitis.

Soon, as the bell rang, Kane asked Harry and Ron to get him a meal when it was time to eat, while he went straight to the eighth floor to ask Dumbledore for Mandrake.

After knocking, he pushed open Dumbledore's office door and saw him awkwardly placing a crystal ball under his desk. He then looked at Kane and asked, "Is there a problem?"

“There’s no problem, it’s just that you asked me to convert fifteen mandrakes for you every month, right? I’d like to have one more,” Kane said.

“Of course, that’s no problem, but on the condition that you don’t use that panpipe that you mentioned can hypnotize creatures to do bad things.” Dumbledore said, leading Kane to the balcony of his office, where fifteen pots of mandrakes were placed.

"You can just take one later. Actually, sometimes insomnia isn't such a bad thing; it helps me think things through," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Thank you very much then." Kane said, and began to use the shadows to transform the mandrakes. Soon, all fifteen were completed. He didn't hesitate to pull one out, and then it kicked its legs twice in mid-air and died.

As he was pondering his opening remarks after stuffing the mandrake into his pocket, Dumbledore spoke first: "What do you think of Professor Quirrell?"

"He smells a bit strong, his lectures are sticky, and I don't know why he was so hasty in the first class but his level improved dramatically in the last class, and it seems like he was holding back. I feel like I'm not doing justice to the salary Hogwarts pays him."

Kane blurted out everything he had in mind.

"Ah, it's quite simple. When he taught you the Swamp Spell, he only gave you a lot of general theories, but he didn't explain the real essence. Perhaps he wanted the young wizards to come closer to him and ask questions," Dumbledore said with a sigh.

"Can the Riddler please stop being the headmaster? Can't you just say what you want to say?" Kane was speechless at Dumbledore's way of speaking. It was because of Riddlers like them that the world was progressing so slowly and in such a spiraling way.

“Alright, alright, I personally distrust Professor Quirrell quite a bit right now. I don’t think he’s a good person, so I feel it’s necessary for me to keep a proper eye on him.” Dumbledore said, pulling a fiery red feather from his desk.

"Find a way to leave this feather in his office. I think Professor Quirrell would be delighted to receive a gift from such a gifted young wizard," Dumbledore said, handing the feather to Kane.

Kane took the feather: "Is your monitoring spell on this? If I use shadow to change its form, will the spell still be there?"

"Why don't you give it a try?" Dumbledore suggested.

Kane nodded, and as the shadows eroded the feathers, they gradually transformed into the shape of the Eternal Continent.

Dumbledore nodded: "The magic is still there."

“Then there’s no problem.” Kane stuffed the feather back into his pocket. “I still need one more red feather like the one from before, three black feathers, and a real swamp.”

As Dumbledore handed the feather to Kane, he pondered for a moment, and soon a place came to mind: "There really is a swamp in the Forbidden Forest." He then reached out to Kane: "Be prepared in advance, Apparition, you know what I mean."

The moment Kane placed his hand on it, the two had already arrived deep in the Forbidden Forest. Kane took another step forward and there was a swamp. He stomped his foot, and as the shadows encroached forward, the swamp quickly turned into a strange gray-white appearance, with bubbles rising from it.

He took a step forward and stood on the swamp. Almost instantly, a terrifying tentacle stretched out from the swamp and was about to lash him when another shadow tentacle quickly wrapped around it. The two tentacles were locked in a stalemate, like twisted ropes.

"Oh, so that's how it is. I think the swamp you summoned yourself could do the same, right? Hmm, summon an area that attacks enemies indiscriminately..." Dumbledore exclaimed, looking at the swamp before him. What amazing magic!

“Yes.” Kane now withdrew the shadow, restoring the swamp to its normal state. He was holding two tentacle skins in his hands, which he combined with the five feathers from before to create a 180-degree feathered hat with an Indian flair.

To be honest, it serves no purpose other than restoring the pitiful sanity and attracting more birds to poop on the hat's owner's head.

“Perhaps Professor Quirrell has been Indian for too long and wants to try out Native American culture?” Kane said, stuffing the feathered hat into his pocket, intending to give it to Professor Quirrell later.