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The Enigma

Chapter 18. The Enigma

This disappointing day can either get worse or do a complete one-eighty. That's the kind of power the Gacha Wheel holds over me. I just hope the pulls won't reflect my disastrous date.

'Menu.'

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[Gacha Wheel]

[Help]

A white circle pops in the centre of my vision. I click on the [Roll] button beneath it and hold my breath while it spins.

Item Obtained: [Cast Iron Pot] (Rarity: Trash)

— Just a normal iron pot. Make a broth and drown in it, chump.

Clenching my jaw, I click on [Roll] again.

Perk Obtained: [Weapon Master] (Rarity: Uncommon)

— Allows the user to wield any weapon. Proficiency is directly proportional to levels.

Finally, something not useless. I can work with this. While I'm in no rush to dive into swordplay, being able to wield all sorts of traditional weapons is nothing to scoff at. I wonder if this perk extends to guns and other modern weapons too. It probably does, going by the wording. Something to experiment with in the future.

Now, onto the next roll.

Item Obtained: [Poké Ball] (Rarity: Rare)

— Allows the user to catch and tame any monster. The monster must be incapacitated first. Note: You can't tame sapient humanoid beings; that's slavery, chump.

I summon the new item. It's red, white, and larger than a tennis ball, with a button in the centre. All I have to do is press the button and throw the ball at a weakened monster? Interesting. There must be a separate dimensional space inside the ball to house the monster; I can't imagine otherwise.

Putting it away, I roll the wheel again, my mood considerably improved.

Item Obtained: [Penance] (Rarity: Mythical)

— It's an arrowhead of absolute death, forged by the Reaper himself. Simply say the name of your enemy, and it will fly to do your bidding. It can kill anyone, whether they are human or a thousand-year-old, immortal, unkillable god. Note: It can be used only once.

It's a literal kill switch, that's what it is. I can erase anyone with this—even all-powerful gods. This must remain my most guarded secret, reserved only for the direst of emergencies. It's too damn powerful to be thrown around willy-nilly. Besides, it's single-use. It would be a waste to expend it on someone lesser. Actually, it would be a waste to use it at all.

Elated with my great pulls, I click on [Roll] again, using my last point.

Item Obtained: [Enhancer Gem] (Rarity: Uncommon)

— It can be used to upgrade certain skills or perks. One use only.

Bloody hell. Today is one of the best days ever. I can actually kiss Lavender again while she mutters I'm not him. Putting up with all her bullcrap was totally worth it in the end.

Vague plans are already forming regarding the gem. Though my first instinct is to apply it to [Unrelenting Force] to amplify its power, there may be better uses for it. I'll need to give it more thought.

Smiling, I put on my clothes and leave the room where I suffered my first rejection.

~xXxXx~

5th November (A Few Days Later)

Just after dinner, as I'm about to head to my Mum's classroom for detention, an owl swoops in and drops an envelope on the table.

I glance at it curiously.

From,

Your faithful servant.

"What's that?" Rose asks. She is propped against the armrest, her legs stretched across my lap.

We are in our personal quarters, a privilege gained from being Hogwarts champions.

I purse my lips. "You go ahead. I'll follow you in a bit."

Rose raises her eyebrows but doesn't pry. She swings her legs off my lap, stands up, and slings her bag over her shoulder. "Don't take too long. It's your detention, but Mum's dragged me into it too. Fun."

Yes, this detention is a result of my brazen rule-breaking and entering my name into the tournament. But instead of a traditional punishment where I'd have to scrub cauldrons or do other menial tasks, Mum has taken this as an opportunity to help us boost our academic performance. And Rose could definitely use the help since it's her NEWT year—the very reason she was roped into it.

"Don't pout, or I'll kiss you," I 'threaten', my gaze drifting to her mouth—the very same one I was nibbling on not ten minutes ago.

"Oh, the horror," she says dryly, leaning down to give me a small peck before leaving.

Grinning, I open the envelope and read the letter.

To

Master,

I humbly beg your forgiveness for my grievous mistake, my Lord. I know I promised to deliver 100,000 Galleons every month for the rest of your life, but I'm afraid this is quite impossible. Upon visiting the Greengrass treasury, I discovered that I have only 25 million Galleons. The rest of my assets are tied up in precious stones and metals, family heirlooms, and real estate scattered across the globe. I request that we rectify our faulty contract. Even with all my wealth, I won't be able to provide 100,000 Galleons every month for the rest of your life. I sincerely apologise for my grave miscalculation and hope you will show mercy.

Additionally, I have been hounded by Lady Longbottom for the miracle cure. She believes I possess a secret potion that cured my daughter's blood curse. She hopes it will work on her comatose husband too. In my humble opinion, this presents an opportunity for you to take advantage of Lady Longbottom's desperation. I'm certain she will swear secrecy as I have and may be convinced to give you a hefty donation. If you wish for me to arrange a meeting, please let me know.

I shall await your response patiently.

I stare at the overly formal letter. So much arse-kissing and grovelling. The mongrel seems natural at it.

As for the letter's content, I'm not surprised. Galleons are made of actual gold. I'd have been shocked if he could actually give me 1.2 million galleons every year. Assuming I live another hundred years, that's 120 million in total. Whatever, I'm sure we'll come to something 'mutually' agreeable. Besides, I've already secured more than enough funds. I remember not long ago when my entire family survived on just 300 galleons a month.

What surprises me is Lady Longbottom. Neville's mum. I didn't expect her to contact the mongrel. I suppose it was foolish to think no one would question how Astoria got cured. Still, I might get something out of this—either money or points. Neville's mum is hot, if I recall correctly, definitely a MILF, maybe even an S-tier beauty. I wonder if I can persuade her to pay for my healing with her body. Of course, I'll give her the option to pay in cash too. It will be up to her to choose. I won't blackmail her to have sex with me—I'm not that heartless. Neville is a good friend, after all.

After writing a reply asking him to arrange the meeting, I send it off with the owl.

Now, mongrel and my friend's hot mum aside, I have a detention to enjoy.

~xXxXx~

11th November

I peer at Rose over the list, impressed. Iris does the same, sitting beside me on the professor's desk in an abandoned classroom.

"What? Is it not good enough?" Rose bites her bottom lip, standing nervously before us, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"No, it's good. Surprisingly good," Iris mutters, mirroring my thoughts. "I didn't think you had the imagination to pull this off."

Rose sticks out her tongue and gives us the finger. "Let's just be done with this if my list is good. I have other things to do."

Today, my [God of Big Things] came out of its cooldown, and it's now Rose's turn to make a wish. That's why we're gathered in this empty classroom. Last time we did, Iris received the ability of instant regeneration. Looking at Rose's list, she might get an even more powerful skill.

Locking eyes with her, I ask, "Tell me, Rose. What do you wish for?"

"I want the power to control time."

My perk thrums in acknowledgment, but as expected, the system clamps down on it, cancelling the wish.

I shake my head. "Next."

"I want the power to control how my body and mind perceive time, allowing me to speed up or slow down my personal experience of it."

This time, the system doesn't interfere, and her wish is granted.

It would've been way better if she had included the ability to control other people's time as well within a limited area around herself. That would have made her power even more formidable. But, oh well, I'm just glad she was able to come up with even this. She already surpassed my expectations.

Her body shines slightly before the glow fades.

"Done. Now you can control your perception of time relative to the world."

Before my very eyes, she blurs and zips away at an incomprehensible speed. When she returns, she has changed into a different set of clothes and has her hair up in a bun. And all this happened in a span of a second.

There's no doubt about how effective her new ability is.

Rose lets out a cackle and zips away again. When she reappears this time, she's holding a bottle of Firewhiskey. "I am speed."

"Hmph." Iris slides off the desk and lands on her feet, crossing her arms. "Still not better than immortality. I am unkillable."

"Sure." Rose's lips twitch, amused by the jealousy. "But can you do this?"

"Do what?"

Rose simply smiles, not seeming to move at all, but Iris' face is suddenly covered in squiggles.

Damn. That was impressive. Even I couldn't see her move.

"What did you do?" Iris asks, sensing something happened even though she couldn't see it.

Rose smirks, walking past her and sitting down beside me. "You might want to clean your face, little sister."

At my chuckle, Iris rubs her face, smearing the paint all over. When she sees her palm covered in red, blue, and green, she hisses and swears revenge, cleaning her face and stomping towards Rose.

"Enough. You two can fight later. Now, tell me, Rose, how fast can you go?"

"Fast enough that the world nearly stops when I will it," she replies proudly.

That's… a terrifying power. Even I would be helpless against her if she decided to turn on me. But she is family—one of the few people I wholeheartedly love. The chances of her betraying me are near zero. Still, it reveals that I'm vulnerable to those who can weaponise time. I'll need to find a defence against it.

~xXxXx~

13th November

Rose wakes me up early in the morning, around six.

As usual, I turn over, hoping to slip back into sleep. But, as always, she drops the gentle sister act and yanks the duvet off me. "Rise up, champion. We've got training to do."

This has become a bloody routine. I really should start locking my door.

Groaning, I blink my eyes open.

She sits down beside me and ruffles my hair, my head still a little woozy.

"We don't need training. How many times do I have to repeat that?" I complain in a hoarse voice, rubbing my bleary eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Keeping ourselves in shape is the least we can do if we want to win."

I open my mouth to tell her to piss off, that we're already overpowered, that there's no chance we'd lose the tournament. But I've danced this dance before and know she'll keep pestering me until I give in.

So like always, I grumble and drag my feet to the bathroom while she impatiently waits on my bed.

Once I'm done with my morning ablutions, I step back into my room and change into a light t-shirt and joggers. I don't bother being shy, taking off my clothes right in front of her. She's so used to it by now that she doesn't even bat an eye, although her eyes do linger on my crotch, making me smirk.

Then I finally slip into my trainers. "Ready."

"Good morning," she greets me, closing the distance between us. She places her hands on my shoulders and starts my day with a passionate kiss.

I like this progress. I no longer have to coax her; she's begun kissing me on her own.

Just like every day, I fight off the temptation to cop a feel of her well-endowed butt and simply hug her. "Morning. The same track?"

"Yes," she replies, pulling away and leading me out of the room. We exit our personal quarters through the portrait hole in the common area.

Descending the Grand Staircase, we leave the entrance hall and step out into the cold morning air. Already, the sky has started to grey out, replacing the pitch black darkness.

Rose starts jogging immediately, going off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

I run after her, and she makes up for waking me early by being my eye candy. She's wearing a tight white tank top and form-fitting cotton shorts—something she usually wouldn't. But in the early mornings, when most of the students are still asleep, she doesn't mind donning clothes that highlight her curvy figure.

My eyes are drawn to her toned legs, and my attention is focused on her arse.

It's truly a motivating sight.

Honestly, I don't need physical training. I'm a level 144 gamer, and my physique rivals that of an Olympic swimmer. But I suspect Rose knows that too. The reason she pulls me out of my comfortable bed every morning has more to do with my company than with my physical well-being. And I don't mind this little selfishness on her part. We've started to get closer since we began living together. It wouldn't be a lie to say she's become as close to me as Iris.

As we enter the shadowy woods, she quickens her pace, now sprinting. I could easily overtake her, but then I'd miss seeing her arse flex and shift into alluring shapes with every move. So, I stay behind at a steady distance, enjoying the heavenly view. And, of course, I also take in the beautiful scenery between glances at my sister's magnificent rump.

Further inside, we reach our clearing—a glade beside a babbling brook.

There, we do some exercises. And then we engage in a couple of friendly duels. Now that Rose has the power of time manipulation, she can actually beat me so thoroughly that it's not even funny. So using her new ability, she pushes me to an extent my clones cannot.

As the sky brightens, I conjure a blanket on the grassy ground and lie down, giving my body a well-deserved break.

Rose joins me, and we both lie back, staring at the sky as our lungs struggle to draw in every bit of air from the atmosphere.

"Why do I do this?" I pant, rolling to my side to look at her.

She turns to her side too, a grin splitting her sweaty face. "Because you love me and want to keep me company while I train? Or perhaps because you love perving on my arse?"

"Both, I suppose," I say unabashedly as my breathing evens out, my gaze fixed on her. Her white tank top and cotton shorts are drenched in sweat. And she is semi-naked in all practicality. Her magical bra—the one I gifted her—is clearly visible, straining to contain her large round breasts.

She rolls her eyes, scooting closer and caressing my hair. "Pervert."

It's said fondly rather than in irritation.

"How about you take off those soaked clothes and we cuddle, hmm?"

"Will that lead to sex, little brother?" Her eyes glimmer as she heaves herself on her feet, her graceful form backlit by the sunlight.

This stunning image reminds me that my [See] is available now. I activate the skill, and text instantly appears over her head.

Rose Evans

Level: 22

Beauty Tier: A

Seduction: 97%

Points Available: 3

Kink: Voyeurism, Kissing

"Hopefully." I stare at her, making no effort to hide the semi-erection tenting my joggers. I'm so close to having her. I wonder what's still holding her back from fully giving in to her feelings.

She shakes her head, exasperated. "That's never going to happen, and you know that."

"We'll see about that. Now, come here and give me a kiss, or are you going to deny me even that?"

"How about we save it until after we've bathed?" She sniffs her braid and wrinkles her nose.

"I guess I'll survive until then."

"Right. See you at the castle, pervert." And then she blurs and zips away.

That's annoying; I would've liked her company on the walk back. But I guess everyone's awake by now, and she doesn't want them to see her dressed in tight clothing.

With a sigh, I get up and retrace my steps to Hogwarts.

Back in our quarters, I take a rejuvenating bath. When Rose emerges from her room, looking fresh and smelling of floral body wash, I pull her in for a thorough snog. Afterwards, we head to the Gryffindor common room, where we part ways. There, I find Hermione and Iris. We then make our way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The first thing I do after sitting down at the Gryffindor table is use [See] on Lavender.

Lavender Brown

Level: 17

Beauty Tier: A

Seduction: 60%

Points Available: 0

Kinks: True Love

She gives me a friendly wave when she catches my eye, and I return it with a polite smile. Even nearly two weeks later, I'm still not over how foolish she's been. But since she gave me such great gacha rolls, I can't bring myself to hate her. Would I have preferred a romantic relationship with her like the ones I have with Katie and Hermione? Absolutely. But what's done is done, and I'm not going to chase her like some love-struck fool. Neither am I in love with her, nor does she have any points to offer. It would be a wasted effort. She's free to keep searching for her 'soulmate.'

The arrival of Kiril and Thyra reminds me that I need to check their levels now that I can.

Kiril Marinov

Level: 24

Beauty Tier: B

Seduction: 0%

Points Available: 3

Kinks: ?

He's strong—stronger than Rose, even though they're the same age. I guess that means he isn't all talk; he's more than just a pampered brat, deserving his spot as a champion. Now, let's see how powerful his bodyguard and partner is—the fifth strongest member of the Starweaver Order, an international guild.

Thyra Helvig

Level: 64

Beauty Tier: A

Seduction: 0%

Points Available: 5

Kinks: ?

As expected, I was right to enter the tournament. Thyra is beyond anyone else—she's not just stronger than any student, but even more powerful than the professors. From my observations, most adult wizards and witches fall within the level 20 to 30 range. Those who reach up to level 45 are usually professors or other extraordinary individuals who study magic and continue to advance. Levels beyond 45 are extremely rare. In fact, Dumbledore is the only one I've seen who exceeds that, standing at an impressive level 95. But then again, Dumbledore is more than extraordinary—he's Dumbledore. Most consider him the strongest wizard of our time, and I'd be surprised if I ever encountered a witch or wizard stronger than him.

That means Thyra is indeed special, just as I suspected. While she's nowhere near as strong as I am, she has surpassed ninety-nine percent of the magical population.

"Don't space out on me," Hermione says, elbowing me in the side and pulling me from my reverie. "I asked you something."

"What?"

"I asked if you've found out what the first task is."

"Not yet. But today is the wand-weighing ceremony. Maybe they'll give us some clues."

As the Beauxbatons enter the Great Hall and make their way to the Ravenclaw table, my gaze settles on the two Veelas. Dressed in blue satin gowns that hug their perfect forms, they're a feast for the eyes. Both have their silver-blonde hair styled into elegant buns at the back of their heads, exposing their slender necks.

I doubt they'll manage to surprise me. As far as I've seen, their only real strengths are their unnatural beauty and allure.

Gabrielle Delacour

Level: 21

Beauty Tier: S

Seduction: 20%

Points Available: 10

Kinks: ?

I'm proven right. Though I'm slightly surprised by her seduction. We barely had one conversation and she is already at 20%. Not that I'm complaining, mind you.

Fleur Delacour

Level: 29

Beauty Tier: S

Seduction: 10%

Points Available: 10

Kinks: ?

Hmm, 10% is acceptable. I felt we strangely formed a connection during our banter in Hogsmeade village, however rude the beginning was.

The sight of the claymore strapped to Teresa's back pulls my attention away from the sisters. Her white bodysuit is so tight on her sylphlike figure that, without underwear, she would be as exposed as naked. For someone with S-tier beauty, she is remarkably elusive. I don't think I've ever seen her outside this hall; she seems to vanish without a trace when she's not at meals.

Teresa Clare

Level: 91

Beauty Tier: S

Seduction: 0%

Points Available: 10

Kinks: ?

What the hell? She's level 91! That's nearly on par with Dumbledore. What is she even doing in this tournament? Who is she? For a seventeen-year-old, that level is nearly impossible. Unless she's been training since she could walk or has faced death daily, she shouldn't be that powerful. Even I'm at level 144 only because of cheating. I can't believe this. I need to find out more about her. I've been too lax. Thyra and the Delacour sisters were just distractions. The real threat seems to be Teresa Clare.

As if sensing my intense gaze, she meets my eyes with her eerie silver ones, causing my heart to skip a beat.

She tilts her head, studying me with a curious expression before offering a faint smile. I can't tell if it's meant to be friendly or taunting, but I smile back.

Teresa is intriguing—by far the most interesting person here. I need to find a way to talk to her and uncover her secrets. She can't be allowed to remain mysterious any longer. I could use Duralumin on [See] to learn all that she's hiding, but today is also the day Iris and I are set to jump to another world for our date. I can't afford to have [See] or [Vial of Duralumin] in the cooldown. In fact, I can't afford to have [See] on cooldown ever again. It was this cooldown that caused me to miss Teresa's true threat. If I had this skill active on Halloween, I wouldn't have been so blindsided.

I vow never to use Duralumin on [See] again unless it's absolutely necessary.

~xXxXx~

Later that afternoon, the Weighing of the Wands ceremony takes place.

We are ushered into a small, airy classroom with large windows. All the benches have been pushed to the back, creating an open space at the front. Three desks are joined end-to-end and draped in velvet near the blackboard. Behind them, five chairs are arranged for the judges: Madame Maxime, Headmaster Karkaroff, Headmaster Dumbledore, Ludo Bagman, and Barty Crouch, who have already taken their seats.

Our seats are near the back of the room, facing the blackboard. In the centre stands Ollivander, present to examine our wands.

Lastly, there are two more people: an unattractive blonde woman with a questionable sense of fashion, apparently a reporter for the Daily Prophet, and a cameraman who discreetly ogles the sole Veela present. They are huddled in the corner, staring at us as if we were pieces of meat.

Dumbledore explains that for the first task we will only be allowed our wands, so they need to be in optimal condition. That's why Ollivander is here—to give his seal of approval.

"Let's start with you, Mademoiselle Delacour. Step forward, please," Ollivander says, his voice gentle yet commanding.

Gabrielle rises nervously from her seat, her hands trembling slightly as she approaches him. With a deep breath, she hands over her wand, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Hmm," Ollivander murmurs as he takes the wand, carefully tracing his fingers along its length. "The wood is willow," he notes, his voice thoughtful. "10.5 inches, pliant, with a core of... ah, a Veela's hair." He raises an eyebrow and adds, "I find them quite temperamental."

With a practised flick of the wrist, he swishes the wand, causing a bouquet of delicate flowers to bloom from its tip. "But it is functional," he concludes, satisfied, handing the wand back to her. "Here you go, Mademoiselle Delacour."

Gabrielle accepts the wand and the flowers with a relieved smile, then returns to her seat.

"Now, how about you, Mademoiselle Clare?" Ollivander prompts, turning his attention to her.

"I don't have a wand. Never used one. My sword is all I need," Teresa replies, patting the claymore resting on her lap.

...

...

"I... see," Ollivander utters, clearly flabbergasted. He turns toward the judges, who appear equally stunned. Madame Maxime quickly leans in to whisper something to them. Meanwhile, the reporter with fake golden teeth is already scribbling down notes with a look of relish.

I'm unsure whether Teresa means she can use wandless magic or if she relies solely on her sword. She's definitely not a muggle, given that she was able to enter the castle, but perhaps she might be a squib. Who knows? There she goes again, being an enigma.

The rest of the ceremony proceeds without any more surprises. Even Thyra, the proud knight, possesses a wand, which she uses frequently.

~xXxXx~

"Have you packed all your essentials?" I ask.

It's evening, and Iris and I are in my personal quarters. Rose is absent, spending time on the quidditch pitch with her best friends.

"I have," Iris replies curtly, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. She tosses the mokeskin bottomless pouch up and down. Normally, people might dress up for a date, but at my request, she has skipped her usual skirts and dresses in favour of a more practical outfit.

I don't know where we'll end up, so fashion takes a backseat in this scenario.

"Good. Let's go then." I smile as I notice her struggle to hide her growing excitement.

I summon my [Subtle Knife] and use it to carve a doorway into the fabric of reality. The portal flutters open like a sheet of paper being turned, revealing the swirling, inky blackness of the multiverse beyond.

"Ladies first," I say with a playful bow, extending my arm towards the shimmering wormhole.

Taking a deep breath, Iris steps forward with her eyes tightly shut.

I follow her through the portal, which snaps close behind us.

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