20

Aaron unfolded the letter and was slightly taken aback.

The entire page was densely filled with the words "concern and regards," yet no matter how he looked at it, all he could see were the words "coffee"!

He suddenly remembered he hadn't delivered the coffee he promised Dumbledore.

"It won't take more than half a day; I'll do it when I return from Diagon Alley."

"First, open the package to check if anything's missing."

"If there is, I'll go to Diagon Alley and find the corresponding store to make up for it."

Setting aside the letter, he began to open the largest package.

Somewhere in the Scottish Highlands.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood under the morning sun, its windows bathed in a halo of crystal colors.

Dumbledore paced back and forth in his room, occasionally peering out the window.

Every slight movement outside made him quickly turn to look.

Outside the window, there was no owl delivering coffee, just a passing wild pigeon.

A hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes.

Dumbledore's gaze lingered quietly on a spot outside the window.

Never before had he been so eager to receive a gift from a young wizard.

Inside the castle.

Aaron tore open the wrapping paper vigorously, scattering it around as he organized and arranged stacks of school supplies.

Wizard robes, two piles of textbooks including "Standard Spells, Elementary", "History of Magic", "Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration", and more.

Around these piles lay various other items: a cauldron, a set of alchemical glass test tubes, a telescope, and a brass scale.

Aaron possessed alchemical equipment far superior to ordinary wizards, but to blend in with the wizarding community, he thought it wise not to be too conspicuous.

There was no flying broom among the items, as first-year students were not allowed to bring their own. However, Aaron considered brooms too unsightly for riding. When he had the chance, he planned to create a magic-powered aircraft to take Hermione, Ginny, Hannah, and other beauties for a sky ride.

Wouldn't that be better than riding a decrepit broom?

But for now, his magic was only sufficient to pilot a flying broom for himself.

"Clean up."

With a casual wave of his hand, the scattered packaging swiftly gathered into a ball and flew into the nearby trash can.

If Professor McGonagall witnessed this, she would likely be astonished. Using spells so casually, even low-level ones, wasn't easy for her.

Picking up a copy of "Standard Spells, Elementary", Aaron decided to practice.

Spells were the language of magic, each embodying different magical paths and powers.

Elementary spells were straightforward, easily learned by young wizards. Intermediate spells were more complex, requiring careful practice, while advanced and master-level spells demanded talent.

Unless your magic was capable of casting spells without a wand, which was exceedingly difficult.

"Lumos."

Aaron recited the spell as per the book, and instantly, the twin-wand bracelet on his wrist lit up, emitting a charming glow.

Next, he attempted to cast the spell without the bracelet.

His magical power proved as useful as an inert magic ball.

This wasn't surprising; even with exceptional talent and ancient black magic, adherence to basic rules was essential.

Spells weren't mere phrases; they were circuits. Mastering them required precision; mispronunciation could lead to anything from no effect to catastrophic consequences under specific conditions.

Aaron discovered that guiding magic correctly through the bracelet allowed him to cast spells proficiently.

His talent was indeed formidable; perhaps the world's only SSS-level talent.

Within ten minutes, Aaron had mastered five or six basic spells.

Lighting, levitation, unlocking, mending, immobilizing, and petrifying spells.

However, these were foundational. Only with frequent use or enhanced magical power could they unleash greater potency.

For instance, Dumbledore effortlessly levitated a cow, whereas Aaron's current capacity might manage a cat.

"System, merge spells."

[Fusion in progress. Fusion successful.]

Instantly, Aaron no longer needed to follow magic lines or rely on a wand to cast spells.

Ancient black magic truly was fearsome!

"Open personal panel."

Aaron noticed a new entry in the special talents column: [Dual Patronus (Primary)], boosting his defense from Black Magic: B- to A-.

Such rapid advancement was unnerving.

Yet, compared to spells, Aaron favored "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi" and "Magical Potions and Potions."

Alchemy's unchanging principle was equivalent exchange, starting from the four elements and cycling through them.

While spells were crucial to Aaron, alchemy formed his fundamental basis.

Their divinity must evolve from it, bearing various fruits and, eventually, becoming a true "SCP."

"System, if I refine the potions and items in the book, will they acquire a hint of my divinity?"

"Qualifying me for the sequence?"

This question had plagued him since binding with the system, even as it sporadically provided alchemical formulas. But what if not from the system?

[No!]

The system responded firmly.

"Why?"

[They are undeserving!]

"Undeserving?"

[Correct. These formulas utilize basic material ratios devoid of divine essence.]

[For identical potions and items, the system offers more potent formulas.]

"Then provide them!"

Since the system's last upgrade, no new formulas had been forthcoming.

[Host, please be patient.]

Aaron: "..."

The castle lay two miles from the nearest town.

Taking a carriage to London's outskirts, then a cab to The Leaky Cauldron.

Nearby, in a deserted alley, Aaron extracted the Coke Robot and Sanitation Robot from the crow's spatial pouch and assembled them.

Sending off the crow, he re-entered The Leaky Cauldron.

Tom noticed his arrival immediately.

"Well, look who's here? Our brilliant young wizard."

Aaron approached, bashful. "How can I..."

"Wow, news of you blowing up Ollivander's Wand Shop on your first wand has spread throughout the circle."

Tom announced loudly.

Other patrons raised their glasses, offering friendly smiles to Aaron.

"You made quite the impression. Though young wizards often cause mischief with their wands, none make as much noise as you."

Leaning closer, Tom whispered, "You've made quite the splash, kid. Been wanting to do that myself for ages!"

Aaron: "..."

"That's right!" Tom gestured to a corner, a meaningful smile on his face. "Look, since you left, this girl has been waiting for you every day!"

"Though she won't admit it, she's been daydreaming all day since you showed up. A first for her."

"Don't worry, kid. I don't mind. You're much better than that blond Malfoy kid."

"I've always had a thing against blondes. Just look at your rare flaxen hair..."

Tom continued, and Aaron followed his gaze.

In a corner of the counter, Hannah gazed at Aaron intently, her emerald-blue eyes sparkling in the dim tavern.

Perhaps sensing the boy's teasing glance, the girl hid behind the counter like a startled deer.

As she lowered her head, blushes quickly spread across her snow-white neck.

The shyness of someone her age was particularly endearing.

Though Aaron's heart fluttered, he quickly corrected himself:

"She's not an adult yet; this isn't appropriate!"

"Aaron, wait. Everything will come in due time."

"Hermione will come, Hannah will come, Ginny too..."

Yet, he hadn't forgotten half of his purpose today: "Uncle Tom." He tore his eyes away from the timid girl.

Focusing on Tom, he spoke politely yet directly, "I can increase your bar's profits fivefold within a month. No, tenfold!"

He extended one hand, then the other. "Ten times!"

Tom regarded the young boy, roughly Hannah's age, with skepticism at first.

But the seriousness in those azure blue eyes convinced him otherwise.

After all, could a child who blew up Ollivander's Wand Shop be ordinary?

While the boy's eyes exuded teenage agility, his inner calm, conversation, and demeanor matched an adult's.

At times, Tom felt as though he weren't dealing with an eleven-year-old wizard.

The prospect of boosting bar profits tenfold was enticing. Despite his own decent business, the high cost of living in the wizarding world...

"Fine, I trust you." Tom set aside his smile, adopting a businesslike tone. "But how will you do it?" He shrugged.

Aaron smiled faintly. "Follow me."

With that, he exited the establishment.

Tom eyed him skeptically but eventually left his counter and followed.

Near the door, Hannah peeked out, half-hidden, watching them depart, her beautiful eyes blinking.

For some reason, she couldn't shake the memory of that boy winking at her that day. It occupied her thoughts at meals, bedtime, even while brushing her teeth.

In the alley.

Tom stared at the two contraptions before him, utterly baffled.

In a world where magical advancement was minimal, these devices represented an overwhelming leap—a fact not lost on Tom!

He circled the machines, occasionally marveling at their intricate, brass-covered pipes and complex gears visible beneath partial shells.

Unable to resist, he touched one. Smooth to the touch, it reminded him of the witch who'd spent two Sickles for his service last night.

Delicate, smooth...

"What are these?" He turned to Aaron, who nodded in response.

"Incredible, truly!"

Tom turned to the nearly human-sized robot, unable to contain his admiration. "Absolutely brilliant, Mr. Aaron!"

"You're the most remarkable person I've ever met... um, how should I put it?"

"An alchemist? This seems like a form of alchemy and enchantment, doesn't it?"

"Such a thing would be a spectacle in my bar. It'd certainly draw more customers."

Clearly, Tom viewed it as a decorative piece, prompting Aaron to explain with a hint of exasperation, "Well... It's actually a sanitation robot. It cleans automatically and secures the premises."

He omitted details for Tom to explore on his own.

"Oh, splendid! This could save me both money and trouble."

Tom grew even more enthusiastic, anticipating extra pocket money for frequent visits to the witch he'd saved up for...

"Silvery-white. I adore this color, reminiscent of a witch's powdered skin."

"Huh? What's this?"

Tom ran his hand along the robot's hydraulic arm and noticed a discreet red button on its back. Curiosity piqued, he pressed it.

"Don't..."

Aaron attempted to intervene, but it was too late.

The robot's bulbous eyes lit up, a seductive female voice emanating from its chest:

"Master, Weiwei is ready to begin work."

"Come now, Master, let Weiwei inspect if your tall, handsome frame is besmirched today?"

Aaron cursed inwardly, "Damn! I forgot to adjust the settings!"

Tom listened to the alluring voice, feeling a stir in his body. He resolved to visit the alley again tonight...

The sanitation robot flexed its joints, then scanned Aaron with its oversized eyes, instantly kindling affection.

"Master looks splendidly clean today; Weiwei is delighted."

Aaron thought to himself, "Could you please be quiet?"

The robot turned its gaze toward Tom, suddenly adopting a northeastern English accent:

"Oh my goodness, this is gross!"

"How can you be so filthy?"

Then, before Aaron could divert his gaze and Tom could comprehend what was happening, the robot raised its nine-inch palm and delivered a resounding slap to Tom's face—a mix of surprise, bewilderment, and fear flickering across his expression!

The nine-inch slap struck Tom's face hard, sending him spinning in place.

Dazed, he turned back towards the robot.

It stared at him, exclaimed, then delivered another slap.

This one knocked old Tom straight to the ground. He leaned against the wall, eyes filled with fear and confusion.

He still couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

Was he dreaming?

Did that slap, larger than his head, actually happen?

"Sloppy, dirty, 80% unsanitary."

"Weiwei isn't pleased. Come, let Weiwei give you a gentle spa."

The sanitation robot produced a large steel wool bath ball from its compartment, disinfectant in its other hand.

Slowly, it advanced toward old Tom.

"Child... save... save me!"

Old Tom gazed at the approaching robot in horror, clutching his swollen face, imploring Aaron for help.

Aaron silently shut his eyes, hearing Tom's cries as the robot scrubbed him relentlessly.

He could only think, "Accept your fate, old Tom. You'll have to endure this sooner or later."

Once activated, the robot couldn't be stopped unless Aaron gave the order.

But that was out of the question. He needed the creation points urgently. Ten consecutive draws!

Besides, if Tom wanted this robot, he'd have to face this sooner or later.

[Ding! Sanitation robot recognized. Creation points increased by 230.]

[Serial number 004: Sanitation robot: (Extremely clean with severe obsessive-compulsive disorder) Passive: Beware its nine-inch slap if you're too careless!]

[Ding! Wizard's extreme confusion sensed. +10 creation points.]

[Extreme fear emotion +23 creation points.]

[Extreme humiliation emotion +46 creation points.]

"Um?"

"Wait, humiliation?"

Aaron opened his eyes, then quickly closed them again, seeing something he shouldn't have. It wasn't clean.

It was dirty.

The recent scene reminded him of his previous life's communal bathhouse. The attendants there scrubbed every crevice of his tiny body.

"No! This machine has too many bugs. It's too powerful!"

"What if it publicly humiliates a witch?..."

"It needs debugging!"

After some time, the noise subsided. Aaron opened his eyes to find Tom huddled in a corner, getting dressed, a humiliated expression and a tear trailing down his cheek.

Aaron felt an intense wave of guilt. How could he subject Uncle Tom to this?

[Perceived extreme emptiness in wizard's emotions +68 Creation Points.]

Cleaned up, Tom looked twenty years younger...

Aaron shut down the robot, finding a stuck wire in its motherboard that caused the malfunction.

By the time he finished, Tom had dressed. Anger gleamed in his eyes as he demanded, "Damn it! Why didn't you save me?"

Aaron meekly shrank back, "I was scared. I'm only eleven! I'm just a kid."

"This robot malfunctioned, and I couldn't stop it."

"We had to wait for it to calm down. I'm sorry, Uncle Tom."

Aaron's face showed fear and apology, leaving Dumbledore to praise him as an excellent actor.

Seeing the small child expressing sorrow and self-blame, Tom wanted to slap himself.

"I'm despicable!"

"He tried to help me. What was I thinking? He's just a child!"

"How could I treat him like that? Oh, old Tom, you're a fool!"

Tom cursed himself inwardly.

He comforted Aaron, admitting it was his cleanest bath ever and left him feeling much better.

Outside the Leaky Cauldron,

Hannah, noticing their absence, grew anxious.

Spotting them emerging from around the corner, she relaxed.

But she couldn't help but notice they carried peculiar objects.

"Why are you suddenly so clean?"

"And you smell so much better."

"And what are you holding?"

The girl bombarded them with questions, her curiosity piqued.

Meanwhile, Hannah glanced at her uncle and noticed he looked younger, with clearer skin.

Tom responded tersely, "Children shouldn't ask about adult matters."

The girl turned to Aaron instead, but her shyness held her back from asking.

Seeing curiosity dance in Hannah's emerald eyes, Aaron smiled at her.

"Hannah, right? Want to know what these are?"

Blushing, she nodded slightly.

Aaron grinned mischievously, "Call me handsome, and I'll tell you."

The girl's face flushed with excitement, heart pounding, yet she managed to utter words in a soft voice:

"Handsome."

Hannah's face grew even redder. It was her first time addressing a stranger that way.

A strange sensation coursed through her body.

She dared not meet Aaron's gaze, her eyes wandering until they settled on his nose.

She couldn't help but notice his nice nose...

"Haha, you'll find out soon enough."

What a shy girl. Aaron liked girls who blushed when they spoke.

This era was relatively conservative, with closed minds compared to his previous life. When Aaron cracked a dirty joke, others would respond with even dirtier ones.

Aaron found a prominent spot on the bar counter for the Coke machine.

As for the sanitation robot, Aaron instructed Tom to activate it when the bar was less crowded, ensuring a pristine Broken Cauldron the next day. He had already deactivated it to avoid any mishaps with the current crowd. Stirring up a commotion might garner more attention, thus increasing his creation points—essential for advancing his abilities.

But some things needed to be done gradually.

Aaron couldn't shake off his unease. Wizards in this world were too vulnerable. Even a formidable wizard like Dumbledore faced the risk of being taken down by lesser wizards.

While Malfoy hadn't initiated it, Snape had.

Yet there was no doubt Malfoy could successfully eliminate Dumbledore.

Tom set the sanitation robot aside, feeling increasingly uneasy about its presence.

Bar patrons, observing these two unfamiliar objects, gathered around.

"Hey, Old Tom, what's all this?"

A thin, alcohol-scented wizard jeered at the robot with a mocking tone:

"Look at your shabby bar. Placing these two things here is like fitting a crow with a monkey's butt—odd and amusing."

Indeed, the dimly lit bar, adorned in 19th-century decor, suddenly housed two pieces of high-tech equipment, creating a jarring contrast.

The surrounding wizards joined in the jesting:

"Old Tom must have found a wealthy witch with a stash of gold galleons. Just yesterday, I saw him sneaking into an alley with quite the looker."

"Perhaps it was a gift from her."

"How enviable! Living a carefree life at his age."

The jabs continued, but this time, Old Tom opted not to rebut, instead offering a mysterious smile.

"It's nothing, just a trifle not worth mentioning."

"However, we've got a new drink on the menu. You should give it a try later."

"It's reasonably priced at 20 copper knuts per cup."

Aaron had already discussed profit margins with Tom. Each cup of Coke, costing two knuts to produce and selling for 20, meant they split the profits evenly—50-50.

Tom insisted on a 40-60 split in Aaron's favor, although Aaron, thanks to his Crow gold coin, didn't require gold galleons. As long as he accumulated creation points, he was content.

"Last time Tom introduced a new drink, 'Young Girl's Love,' every mouse that sampled it perished."

"I heard a child passed out after a sip, and you paid quite the sum."

"What concoction is this time? I dare not try it."

A rotund wizard mocked.

Tom reddened but defended himself, explaining the intricacies of blending—like the rock method, mist method, and clarity—or the necessity of thorough mixing.

The bar resumed its jovial atmosphere.

No one believed Old Tom capable of producing anything worthwhile.

Aaron began earnestly debugging, connecting hoses, securing liquid tanks, checking pressure tanks...

Unnoticed by Aaron, the girl beside him blushed, hands cupping her cheeks, her beautiful jade eyes fixated on him.

"When he's focused, he's rather charming..."

Hannah's heart raced. She believed she had met the prince of her dreams as described in stories.

Yet she also harbored deep sadness. Since childhood, she'd been overlooked, burdened by parental divorce, living a cautious existence...

"W-will Mr. Aaron... ever notice me?"

Lost in her thoughts, her crimson eyes dulled.

Unaware of the romantic tragedy unfolding beside him, Aaron completed his setup. Under the curious gazes of onlookers, he retrieved pre-packed cola bags from his backpack.

Exactly one hundred, with the formula already shared with Tom, who would handle future production. Tossing a bag into the machine, Aaron pressed the switch.

To the surprise of the girl and the cheers of the crowd, the cola machine sprang to life. Brass pipes pumped dark brown liquid through transparent hoses, filling a glass jar atop the contraption.

The pressure tank hissed into action, generating frothy bubbles within the liquid.

In about thirty seconds, ten servings of Meow Meow Coke were ready!

Aaron filled a glass, took a deep sip, and belched in satisfaction.

Cheers erupted among the wizards nearby.

They too yearned to taste beverages conjured by this magical machine.

"Twenty copper for one cup. Today, on its debut, it's eighteen."

Tom announced, prompting a moment of silence. No one dared to be the first taster.

"Tom, one for me."

From the crowd rose a pale wizard draped in layers of blue cloth around his head, tossing twenty copper knuts to Tom.

Aaron narrowed his eyes. It was Professor Quirinus Quirrell, Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, possessed by Voldemort.