John honestly couldn't quite figure out why his uncles had pushed his dad into that position.
His dad was good at making money. Letting him handle finances was fine, but managing an underground organization? That was seriously pushing it.
In the morning, John was reading the newspaper.
He still wasn't used to seeing pictures that didn't move.
At Hogwarts, they only had newspapers, so over time, he'd developed the habit of reading them. Compared to the TV, he actually preferred these.
"Things are warming up a bit in Russia."
He focused on the report about that other nation—it was mostly about livelihood and social issues.
Now that Russia was in a period of decline, things had gotten harder since the split.
Oligarchic monopolies were seriously stifling the country's economic growth.
"After coming home, the uncles seem to have gotten busy."
They had left during Christmas.
It was Grandpa who called them back. When they left, their expressions had been grim.
Watson was fiddling with his tie with a long face. He liked red ties, but with his current position, bright colors just didn't seem appropriate.
Grudgingly, he picked out a different one to wear. Then, as if remembering something, he smacked his forehead and said, "John, Alexei left a gift for you. I put it in the basement."
"In the basement?"
John was taken aback. Everyone in the family knew the basement was his lab—normally, no one ever went in there.
"That thing seemed kind of dangerous, but I swear, I didn't touch a single one of your things down there!" Watson declared righteously.
"Didn't touch anything, huh?" John silently turned his head toward the tabby cat sprawled across the cabinet.
Watson cleared his throat. "Hey! That one's an exception."
John shrugged—he'd let himself believe his dad for now.
Just as he was about to head out, Watson stopped in his tracks. He turned back, a rare seriousness on his face. "John, are you alright?"
John blinked. Watson continued, "If something's wrong, I hope you'll tell me. I may not be a wizard, but I am your father."
The usually unserious Watson suddenly being solemn threw John off a bit.
"Ehm.. I'm fine," he said awkwardly.
Watson stepped up to John, hesitated for a second, then reached out and ruffled his hair.
"You've grown up… but I don't want you to bottle everything up."
He could tell John wasn't as fine as he said.
But just as he'd said—John had grown up, and had his own secrets now.
"There are troubles at school too, aren't there? You can talk to me about anything, whether it's big or small. Always remember that!" Watson smiled, ruffling John's hair before turning to leave.
As he stepped out the door, he even waved goodbye to John.
John stood there silently for a while, then reached up to touch his hair.
The warmth from Watson's hand still seemed to linger there.
"Family, huh." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Wick was flipping through a cookbook while cooking, occasionally letting out little exclamations of surprise.
John noticed that the usual frying pan had been swapped out for a massive iron wok, the kind that felt very familiar—it's like those in Chinatown.
Flames leapt from the wok, but Mrs. Wick remained calm and composed. She picked up the spatula and began expertly stir-frying, executing the recipe's chaotic whirlwind technique with gusto.
After a year of practice, Mrs. Wick had fully mastered this skill!
Soon, a dish straight out of a Chinese canteen was placed on the table.
"..."
John stared at the plate in silence.
"…Mooncakes stir-fried with chili peppers."
The corner of his mouth twitched. He hadn't expected to be ambushed by a trauma. So, mom has become another Daphne..
Looking at Mrs. Wick's hopeful expression, John solemnly picked up a piece with his chopsticks.
Too much!!
And the mooncakes were five-nut flavored.
In the end, John still ate the dish Mrs. Wick had painstakingly prepared.
He headed down to the basement, opened the door, and saw the gift from his uncle.
So this was the Christmas present his uncle hadn't delivered on time.
It was a large box—John immediately suspected it was another one of those indescribable items.
The box was huge, like the kind used to store things that might go rat-a-tat-tat.
No crowbar or anything needed. John simply ran his fingers over the nails, and they were pulled out by a force.
Opening the box, he didn't see what he had imagined.
"Hmm?"
Most of the space was filled with padding. There was only one item inside.
Just one sealed vial.
"What is this?"
John frowned in thought and carefully lifted the bottle out, examining its contents.
Just one mouthful's worth of a black liquid—it seemed to be some kind of potion.
Seeing a potion in the Muggle world?
John noticed a piece of paper beneath the bottle. He unfolded it and took a look.
"If you choose to accept yourself, then drink it."
It was left by Alexei. Compared to his other uncles, John's impression of this one was a bit different.
"Accept myself?" John fell into thought. What on earth is this?
The Jovonovich family seemed to have some kind of secret—this, John had known for a long time.
Even in the land of the bears, not everyone would just casually go wrestle a brown bear.
Yet in the Jovonovich family, even petite Aunt Lulus could drive off a raging mother bear with her bare hands.
And Grandfather didn't resemble your typical old man either. He gave off an impression—like Dumbledore. Old, yes, but brimming with power.
The difference being, Dumbledore's power was magical, while Grandfather's was raw physical strength.
"Maybe that's why the local government sought Grandfather's help."
Over in Mrs. Wicks hometown, things weren't going well for the common people. Uncle Seryozha had once mentioned a deputy mayor who had impressed Grandfather quite a bit.
The family held significant influence in the area, and from what Uncle Seryozha hinted at, it seemed Grandfather intended to support that deputy mayor.
But once politics are involved, one careless move could leave you dead and buried with no trace.
The transfer of power always came with bloodshed—whether among wizards or Muggles.
It was like a poison—once touched, it would start to corrode.
John carefully put the potion away for now. He needed to study it first, and today, there was something even more important to do.
He took out the magical blood. At the end of his fourth year, he had received a reward.
Several vials of candidate blood were laid out on the table.
Basilisk—likely to enhance the Petrification Curse or grant a petrifying effect.
Unicorn—its bloodline was sacred. John had some concerns about this, since unicorns were holy creatures, and he had dabbled in more than a few Dark Arts.
Occamy—a high probability of space-related or transformation-related abilities.
Zouwu—probably a spatial tunneling ability.
The four vials sat there as John began to ponder.
He wasn't lacking in offensive power right now. Whether it was the Crushing Curse or Fiendfyre, he already had powerful destructive abilities. Add in the presence of the Gubraithian Fire, and his destructive force had increased significantly.
But if he could gain the basilisk's deadly gaze, then with the element of surprise, its effect would certainly be devastating.
The trouble with that ability, though, was that it required direct eye contact.
If someone was prepared, the element of surprise would be greatly diminished.
The Occamy's spatial and transformation abilities were also quite impressive. As a magical creature capable of changing its size based on available space, it was somewhat akin to the Extension Charm in magic.
The unicorn, imbued with sanctity, seemed like it would either enhance one's spiritual capacity or improve the Patronus Charm.
The Zouwu's abilities were powerful, and John's biggest hesitation was between the Zouwu and the basilisk.
Both abilities could serve unexpected purposes. The Zouwu's spatial capabilities could override Hogwarts' internal magic—if he had the Zouwu's power, he could freely enter and exit Hogwarts at will.
"…Still, I'll go with the basilisk."
After a period of indecision, John finally gritted his teeth and chose the basilisk.
The Zouwu's powers were more focused on movement, while the basilisk's petrifying ability could significantly boost John's individual combat strength.
Once he had made his choice, he poured the basilisk blood into the magical blood.
This time, the magical blood began to change again—basilisk blood was extremely venomous.
As the blood was absorbed, a serpent-like shadow appeared within the magical blood. Its color shifted from red to white, and then to emerald green.
Just the color alone reminded John of some of the potions he'd seen in the cave.
His stomach churned violently, but he forced himself to suppress the nausea and uncorked the vial.
Closing his eyes, he drank the magical blood in one gulp.
Ugh!
The power in his body surged out of control again—but compared to last time, he was able to handle it much better this time.
After experiencing four magic surges before, John began to vent his magic.
Under his control, the magic continued to shift and transform. He drew the Silverwick Sword.
The moment the Silverwick Sword appeared, the faint consciousness within it couldn't help but let out a resonating hum.
Taking advantage of the moment, John gripped the sword with both hands and channeled the massive surge of magic through the Philosopher's Stone into the blade.
With the infusion of magic, the Silverwick Sword erupted in dazzling brilliance.
It was like holding a miniature sun in his hand.
Under the radiance, the blade began to change. The previously mirror-like smooth surface now bore intricate, arcane magical runes.
As the magic surge subsided, the runes were engraved into the blade.
The Silverwick Sword now carried an aura of ancient mystery.
"Grr.. Hufff.. huff.. It's done."
John held the sword in one hand. The blade now carried a weight that hadn't been there before.
It was the weight brought on by its evolution.
Far from feeling heavy, it gave off a powerful sense of strength.
But if anyone else tried to pick up this sword, that same weight would become unbearably heavy.
Only a recognized master could wield it.
"Nice!"
With a satisfied smile, John felt his weapon was getting closer and closer to the level of the Sword of Gryffindor.
Compared to the Sword of Gryffindor, the Silverwick Sword still lacked that trace of sentient awareness.
Items like the Sorting Hat, the Elder Wand, and the Sword of Gryffindor all possessed self-awareness.
The Sorting Hat could compose its own songs, the Elder Wand would submit to the one who defeated its master, and the Sword of Gryffindor only accepted true Gryffindors.
[Ding! Magic Blood process complete!]
[Acquired Basilisk traits: Petrification, Death Gaze, Longevity, Parseltongue]
Petrification: Can cause living beings to turn to stone; greatly enhances resistance to a petrification curse.
Death Gaze: When a creature sees your eyes, they may be stunned or die instantly.
Longevity: Enhances vitality; significantly extends lifespan.
Parseltongue: Grants the ability to speak the language of snakes.
John hadn't expected the Basilisk's abilities to be this reliable.
Petrification—it wasn't like the usual Petrificus Totalus spell. This one turned people into actual stone.
John frowned slightly. Did Basilisks really have this kind of ability?
There was no need to say much about Death Gaze—it was the main reason he chose to fuse with the basilisk in the first place.
Longevity, however, caught him by surprise.
Lifespan—in the world of humans, it was a hurdle no one could truly overcome.
Even the most powerful wizards could not escape the fear of death.
"Damn.."
He took a moment to sense it. With his current state, living for a hundred or two hundred years wouldn't be a problem.
Just thinking about how the basilisk had lived nearly a thousand years made this ability seem not all that hard to accept.
He thought of the phoenix—if he had phoenix blood, could he perhaps gain something close to immortality?
And under the Black Lake at Hogwarts, there was that giant squid that had lived for over a thousand years. If he could use that squid...
His heart began to stir. Maybe he could give it a try next time!
That giant squid was powerful and showed no signs of aging. John even suspected that the squid might be able to go toe-to-toe with Dumbledore.
As for Parseltongue, there was no need to dwell on it—John was already very familiar with it.
To him, it wasn't very useful.
Aside from proving he was a "true" Slytherin, it was less helpful than some other enhancement might've been.
(2125 Words👐)
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