Chapter 74: Restricted Section
Chu Yang, who had been raised under a test-oriented education system, excelled at breaking down problems into easily understandable parts and teaching them to his classmates.
Compared to the college entrance exam of his previous life, Hogwarts’ exams were easier than even an elementary school’s final exam.
In terms of solving problems, even Dumbledore was not as skilled as Chu Yang.
If conditions allowed, Chu Yang even wanted to create his own “Five-Year Simulation, Three-Year Past Papers” to let young witches and wizards experience the pain he once endured.
Precisely because Chu Yang frequently tutored his classmates, this year’s first-year students at Hogwarts performed better overall than those of previous cohorts.
When students performed well, teachers were naturally pleased, so in the teachers’ eyes, Chu Yang’s image improved steadily.
Most students and teachers liked Chu Yang, but precisely because of this, Dumbledore began to worry.
The more outstanding Chu Yang became, the more Dumbledore saw echoes of Voldemort in him—yet he was relieved that Chu Yang showed utter disdain for blood purity theories.
Over the past two months, Dumbledore had occasionally conversed with Chu Yang during his free time.
The boy’s occasional startling remarks
often gave Dumbledore unexpected insights, making him forget his own age.
More often than not, Dumbledore could hear from Chu Yang’s everyday speech his deep revulsion toward the magical world’s decay and rigidity, especially regarding “bloodline” and “family.”
There had once been a discussion in the Headmaster’s office.
Chu Yang asked: “Was the first wizard in history great?”
Dumbledore answered without hesitation: “Of course!”
Chu Yang asked again: “Do Itachi think he was pure-blood or Muggle-born?”
Since he was the first wizard, there could have been no wizards before him—Dumbledore instinctively prepared to answer, but fell silent before the words left his mouth.
Chu Yang spoke calmly: “All the glory of pure-blood families originates from Muggles—a conclusion that can be extended to the entire wizarding community. The magical world is merely an extension of the non-magical world, like a thick branch of a great tree.”
“If severed completely, even the thickest branch will wither; thus, the magical world without the non-magical world is nothing but a tree without soil.”
“In fact, compared to the creativity displayed by the non-magical world, the magical world has already begun to decline—Itachi must have noticed this.”
Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his nose wearily; Chu Yang’s words about the origin of wizards were an extremely sensitive topic throughout the magical world.
Because it was an undeniable truth.
As for the flourishing state of the non-magical world, Dumbledore had certainly observed it himself—especially those wondrous inventions that required no magic at all, which often made this Company Commander marvel at Muggle ingenuity.
Chu Yang did not stop his mockery, sneering: “The term ‘pure-blood wizard’ carries the stench of decay, like medieval nobility—mere refuse of history.”
“In twentieth-century Britain, no one regards nobility as a symbol of power; even the Queen is merely a mascot.”
“Today’s Muggles may grow into tomorrow’s pure-blood seeds through exceptional talent; today’s pure-blood families may sink into obscurity and become ordinary Muggles through mediocrity.”
“To summarize with an ancient Eastern proverb: Are kings, marquises, generals, and ministers born of a special breed?”
Dumbledore tapped the table and chuckled helplessly: “I’ve studied many languages, but mostly only enough to read books—this ancient proverb…”
“Forgive my rudeness,” Chu Yang bowed slightly with a smile, then translated the meaning of the proverb.
After hearing it, Dumbledore’s expression grew deeply reflective.
“In this age, if wizards still refuse to abandon their sectarian prejudices and boldly innovate to shape the future, they will surely be drowned by the tide of history.”
Here, Dumbledore halted the topic, and Chu Yang left the Headmaster’s office.
Thus… Dumbledore’s fear that Chu Yang might become the next Dark Lord vanished entirely.
But a new worry surfaced in Dumbledore’s heart.
Chu Yang would never become a Dark Lord, yet his words revealed deep dissatisfaction with the magical world—what he might do once he matured, Dumbledore could not know.
“Innovation, reform, future…”
Dumbledore murmured these words repeatedly, eventually sinking into boundless silence.
On Halloween, Chu Yang, who had no classes, woke very early and was the first student to enter the library.
This highly unusual sight made Madam Pince, the librarian, stare at him in astonishment.
“Mr. Chu Yang, today is Halloween—aren’t Itachi planning to spend it with your friends?”
In all her years as librarian, Madam Pince had never seen a student come to the library to study on Halloween.
Chu Yang replied: “I plan to read for a while in the morning and go out at noon. Thank Itachi for your concern, Madam Pince.”
“Everyone says Itachi’re a genius, but perhaps only I see your diligence,” Madam Pince said indignantly. “Itachi’re the most hardworking student I’ve ever met!”
“Thank Itachi,” Chu Yang smiled shyly, then pulled out a magical permit bearing Dumbledore’s signature. “This is the permit Headmaster Dumbledore granted me—I wish to read books from the Restricted Section.”
“It really is Headmaster Dumbledore’s signature!” Madam Pince glanced at Chu Yang in surprise.
Chu Yang was certain that if he borrowed too many books on Dark Magic or other dangerously content, Dumbledore—watching secretly—would swiftly terminate his hard-won privilege.
For safety’s sake, Chu Yang planned to read only spells he couldn’t access elsewhere but weren’t especially dangerous.
Such as the Apparition spell or the Extension Charm—spells with strong practical utility.
These were also the spells Chu Yang from other worlds currently needed most.
In combat, spells had limited effect, because the enemies Chu Yang faced in other worlds often possessed extraordinary physical strength, while spellcasting had long casting times, easily becoming fatal openings.
Of the three Unforgivable Curses, only the Killing Curse was truly offensive—its instant death effect was powerful, and soul-level attacks were nearly impossible to resist.
But only if Itachi hit your target…
The Cruciatus Curse was better suited for torturing enemies—a terrible punishment—but in the Naruto and One Piece worlds, there were plenty of hardened individuals who could endure such pain; the Imperius Curse faced similar limitations.
After careful consideration, Chu Yang of the magical world clearly defined his role: to become a logistical support for his counterparts across all worlds.
Learning and innovating more powerful, practical spells would be Chu Yang’s primary goal in the future.
(End of Chapter)
End of Chapter
