Chapter 2: The Black Wizard's Murder Incident

Shared abilities meant that as long as his clone learned various magical skills in the Harry Potter world, his real body in the Marvel universe could also use them.

Although he didn't have a wand in the Marvel world, it didn't matter.

From what he understood, not everyone in the Harry Potter world used wands. High-level wizards could cast spells without them, and wizards in Africa had long practiced traditional hand-gesture spellcasting.

Wands just made spellcasting faster and more effective, which was why most wizards used them.

Perhaps later he could learn to make wands himself. The Marvel universe had no shortage of unique materials imbued with special energies; surely, something suitable for a wand could be found.

The magic from the Harry Potter world, while not always destructive, had incredible utility. Some of it even seemed to touch upon higher-level rules of the universe.

At the very least, if he could master Apparition, he could easily escape from most enemies in the Marvel world.

"But before that, I need to figure out how to take down the Black Wizard!"

Killing was something that the old George would never have dared to do.

In his previous life, he was just a corporate drone. He'd never killed anyone, not even a chicken; he always bought pre-prepared meat from the store.

But in this life, after just three months, he had already adapted.

Because, over the past three months, in combat, he had killed twelve people.

The lab didn't tolerate the weak, and as a mutant being trained as a future assassin, his days were filled with ability practice and learning how to kill.

The quickest way was through live combat.

He had no choice. If he didn't kill in battle, he would be killed.

This was also one of the reasons he was so desperate to escape from the lab.

While he wasn't exactly a saint, he still had his limits and didn't enjoy senseless killing.

He could report the Black Wizard to the Ministry of Magic, and given the current circumstances, he would most likely succeed.

After all, he lived with the Black Wizard in Knockturn Alley, making it easy to contact the Aurors.

Dave didn't dare to do this because, having grown up under the Black Wizard's torment, his fear of the wizard was deeply ingrained. It was burned into his very bones; he would rather die than rebel.

However, reporting him carried risks.

If the Aurors didn't act in time and the Black Wizard managed to escape, there was a chance he would seek revenge.

But if Dave could eliminate the Black Wizard without leaving any trace, not only would he prevent future problems, but he would also inherit everything the Black Wizard owned.

From Dave's memories, he knew that the Black Wizard had no surviving relatives. Once the Black Wizard died, Dave, his adopted son, would be the sole heir.

Besides, he wasn't entirely without confidence.

First of all, the Black Wizard had no defenses against him.

In the Black Wizard's eyes, Dave was a cowardly, wandless boy who had never learned any magic.

Secondly, Dave had experience in using his powers to control blades and single-handedly take down mercenaries.

If a wizard was caught off guard by a sneak attack, they wouldn't react much faster than a regular person. Their only advantage was their enhanced constitution, making them harder to kill.

Finally, since he wasn't using magic or a wand, the chances of the Aurors discovering anything were slim.

Of course, there was no guarantee, and failure was always a possibility.

But with great risks came great rewards. If this plan succeeded, he'd not only have a house in this world but also a decent amount of wealth, enough for him to focus on studying magic in the early stages.

From what he knew, the Black Wizard had made a lot of money over the years selling various illegal potions.

"Up half an hour late today? Do you want me to turn you into a rat again and roast you over a candle?"

Just as George was deep in thought, the door suddenly flew open. A bald old man in a black wizard's robe stood there, his cold, snake-like eyes fixed on George.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Merton, I'll be right there."

George mimicked Dave's usual fearful and nervous behavior, quickly getting out of bed and dressing.

The bald wizard narrowed his eyes slightly and said, "Little Dave, don't worry. Even though I refused your Hogwarts acceptance letter, as long as you continue to serve me well, I'll teach you powerful magic. It won't be any worse than going to Hogwarts."

"Powerful magic, huh? Probably more like spells for cleaning and cooking," George muttered to himself, maintaining a compliant exterior.

Leaving the small room, he stepped outside just as the sun was rising, around six-thirty in the morning.

"Marvel is in night mode, and here it's daytime—this actually works out quite conveniently."

Controlling two bodies at once still felt strange, so for now, this arrangement—sleeping in one world and being active in the other—gave him time to adjust.

After leaving the cramped hallway, he followed Dave's usual routine, preparing breakfast for the old wizard, cleaning the shop, and standing by the entrance to attract customers.

Knockturn Alley's potion shop didn't see many normal customers. Regular wizards wouldn't buy potions in Knockturn Alley—there were proper shops in Diagon Alley for that.

Most of the customers here were dark wizards or those who didn't strictly follow the Ministry of Magic's laws.

The Ministry of Magic generally turned a blind eye to such activities.

Almost every wizard knew what kind of people lurked in Knockturn Alley, so how could the Ministry not be aware?

To George, this seemed entirely normal.

Rather than allowing dark wizards to operate in secret, it was better to have a place like Knockturn Alley. If something went wrong, there would at least be a trail to follow.

Besides, many upper-class wizards needed Knockturn Alley to exist. Even prestigious wizards like Lucius Malfoy occasionally sold illegal potions and magical items here for profit.

By around four in the afternoon, George finally found the perfect opportunity to strike.

"I'm brewing Draught of Madness. Close the shop for now and stand guard at the door. Don't let anyone disturb me, or I'll make you wish you were dead!"

The old wizard carefully retrieved rare magical herbs from several boxes, glaring viciously at George.

George immediately lowered his head and trembled as he responded, "Y-Yes, I won't let anyone disturb you."

The old wizard's threats were not idle. Previously, Dave had been careless, and a customer had interrupted the old wizard during a potion brewing session. This led to a failure in the potion's preparation, and the old wizard tortured Dave with dark magic for an entire night, nearly killing him.

However, this presented George with an excellent opportunity to kill the old wizard.

From Dave's memories, George knew that Draught of Madness was an advanced potion. Once consumed, it would drive a person insane, making them lose their mind completely. Its value was incredibly high.

But brewing such a potion was extremely difficult and dangerous. If anything went wrong, the concoction could explode, injuring or even killing the wizard.

In fact, potion brewing—especially advanced potions—was never a safe endeavor. Every year, wizards accidentally died while attempting to brew potions.

This was one of the reasons why advanced potions were so expensive and skilled potion masters were so rare.

Seeing the old wizard retreat into the back courtyard's designated potion-brewing hut, George immediately closed the shop doors and quietly approached the window of the hut to spy on him.

The old wizard began meticulously preparing ingredients like Alihot, Venomous Tentacula, lacewing flies, and the bile of a two-headed snake. One by one, he processed them and then added them to the cauldron for brewing.

Though the old wizard never taught Dave any magic, he did pass on a fair amount of knowledge about herbology and potion-making so Dave could better serve the customers.

Based on Dave's memories, George knew that this phase of potion brewing was the most prone to errors.

At this point, the wizard not only had to cast the appropriate spells with complete focus but also continuously channel magic to harmonize the potion.

"Let it blow!"

After waiting for nearly an hour, George finally saw the wizard reach the critical stage of brewing the potion. He immediately used his powers to make the candlestick on the table topple over, knocking the cauldron off balance.

The thick potion spilled onto the table, mixing with the unused herbs.

"No!"

The old wizard hastily interrupted the brewing process, cold sweat forming on his forehead.

He tried to cast a protective spell, but as soon as he raised his wand, the potion exploded.

The explosion blasted the old wizard across the room. He crashed hard into the wall before collapsing to the floor, coughing up blood.

"A wizard's body really is much tougher than an ordinary person's," George thought to himself, impressed.

If a regular person—even a young and fit one—had been hit by such an explosion, they likely would have died instantly.

This wasn't just a simple blast; it was the result of a failed potion, combined with the backlash of magic and a surge of magical energy. It wasn't as straightforward as it seemed.

"Let's hit you with something harder!"

George's forehead throbbed with veins as he focused all his powers on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the hut.

After gaining wizard blood, George noticed that his mutant abilities had grown significantly stronger. Whereas before, he could only control around ten pounds, now he could manage at least fifty pounds with full effort.

In time, once fully developed, his powers would likely surpass his previous limit of one hundred pounds.

The chandelier, already weakened by the explosion, wobbled precariously. With George's full control, it suddenly broke free from the ceiling and plummeted toward the old wizard's face.

"Ahhh!"

A scream filled the air as the chandelier, propelled by George's powers, pierced through the old wizard's eye and embedded itself in his brain.

With a wizard's constitution, even if they lost a limb, they could survive as long as they weren't killed outright. Healing magic and potions could help them recover fully—even reattaching arms or legs was possible.

But when the brain was directly pierced like this, only a wizard on Voldemort's level could survive. For most wizards, this meant certain death.