"12. The effect of the ’Moon’ magic patterns exceeded expectations, manifesting not only in wearers of the battle armor but also causing nearby werewolves to undergo transformation," the pen paused on the paper, "...perhaps it could be developed into a domain system ability?"
Derek, whose body was starting to sprout black fur, staggered to the desk. He reached out to pull open a drawer, trembling as he grabbed a dark glass bottle. But before he could bring the bottle to his lips, his twisted, deformed hand caused it to slip from his grip—
The glass bottle shattered on the carpet, leaving a dark stain as the liquid spilled.
Wolf Poison Potion...
William nodded, it made sense. Although this potion, developed in recent years, was very expensive, it effectively alleviated most of the transformation aftereffects for werewolves, including the loss of human reason.
However, Derek was clearly not a low-level werewolf who couldn’t afford the potion. But since the Wolf Poison Potion needs to be taken about a week prior to transformation, drinking it just now wouldn’t have any effect. He probably treated a dead horse as if it were still alive.
"No—"
Seeing the fur-covered claw in front of him, Derek let out a desperate roar, and then the murky yellow completely took over his pupils.
He wasn’t the only one undergoing this change. Derek had quite a few werewolves under him; there were three in this room alone. The remaining ordinary humans subconsciously retreated to the walls. Watching the twisted, convulsing shadows on the carpet, their magic wands shook too much to aim.
As Derek’s subordinates, they had seen werewolf transformations before—on the contrary, as a typical capitalist of lamp-standards, Derek chose to squeeze every last bit of value out of everyone, including himself.
The werewolf performances every full moon were the marquee event of Derek’s circus. Many wealthy patrons enjoyed spending money to witness others’ suffering.
Yet no matter what, there was always a heavy iron cage separating them from the werewolves during performances. The current direct exposure to werewolves, and not just one, was a first for everyone present.
"...Sh-should... we run?"
Watching the werewolves who had begun to shake their heads, seemingly regaining their senses, Mundungus felt like he could barely hold onto his magic wand. He turned his head, almost pleadingly looking at William, his voice gradually trembling.
Watching the armored werewolf in the middle of the room, William remained silent—after obtaining most of the Death Eaters list and dirt through Veritaserum with Snape’s assistance, he performed a prefrontal lobotomy.
Because capturing and chopping up black wizards to use as fertilizer would be too wasteful.
This time, he had targeted "magic puppets" created by ancient magic guardians—
Bodies made of special metals, surfaces covered in magic runes, filled with the power of ancient magic—these big guys left a strong impression, like the hands that almost crushed his head like a watermelon.
He had actually acquired blueprints from Professor Percival a long time ago, but even a hundred years ago, the metal for making puppet body parts had vanished, and he couldn’t buy much even with half the Forbidden Forest’s acromantulas in his captivity.
Moreover, the puppet materials couldn’t be reused, so he had to make do with "old guys" hundreds of years old. This quickly revealed some flaws in the puppets: lack of intelligence, slow metal joint movements, strong defensive ability but limited counter-attack methods...
And so on, a series of issues led him to abandon the research halfway through the seventh-grade semester.
But a burst of inspiration two months ago brought his attention back to the abandoned puppets—if they lacked intelligence, were slow, and had limited attack means... why not try live experiments?
The term sounded cruel, and it was indeed, but he never saw these beasts who attacked children, terrified and broke countless families, and took joy in it, as human.
From the moment Fenrir was cornered in the bathroom, this werewolf was as good as dead.
Had it not been for William’s need to learn about the Magic Realm a hundred years later, he wouldn’t have been so "merciful" with Crucio. After all, he rarely used the Crucio spell alone.
Research on the Magic Rune Armor was nearly concluded last month. The material, moonstone, was common in the Forbidden Forest. Carving enough "activation," "tenacity," "strength," "spell nullification," and other magic patterns had successfully enhanced the wearer’s abilities—a successful experiment.
He outfitted Fenrir with the mostly completed armor and brought it to Malfoy Manor, intending to test its power on Lucius Malfoy, the former Death Eater and Dark Lord’s favorite...
Yet before he could act, Lucius knelt on his own.
Tsk, quick save.
After that, while completing Ancient Runes homework, he also finished the rune for "Full Moon Night." He didn’t expect a mistake in the experiment would result in the range effect of this magic pattern...
Tsk, a real headache.
"Hey, William, wake up... hey!"
Derek’s human subordinates had long fled entirely.
Under immense mental pressure, Mundungus got up to block William, loudly shouting at William, who seemed lost in thought. The man was now fully aware that this boy was the boss of this "transaction" and that the story of being bitten by a werewolf was all nonsense—
Although he’d wanted to run since the beginning, he still remembered the "scar" on his face.
"First, I am not called ’hey’..."
William scratched his ear irritably, then put away his notebook. He waved his magic wand, and the red carpet came alive, binding the werewolves tightly. They struggled to lunge at Mundungus, their foul-smelling drool nearly making the man sick, but in the end, they were bundled by the carpet into a floating suitcase—
"Snap—"
The suitcase snapped shut and landed with a thud.
"Second..." William walked to the opposite fireplace, sat behind the desk, gently stroking the cat in his arms, looking at the dumbfounded Mundungus, who seemingly couldn’t believe how easily things were resolved, "If you’re going to operate a circus, do you have any experience?"
"Huh? Me?"