Chapter 239: Vine Whip

“Woo-woo-woo—” Malfoy thrashed violently, his eyes blazing with fury, trying to speak but unable to utter a sound.

Then he realized his feet were slowly lifting off the ground, and he struggled even harder.

Alan paid no heed to Malfoy’s struggles, tightening the vine whip further—now bound, Malfoy looked even better.

The surrounding students began pointing and whispering at Malfoy; Harry and Ron quietly cheered Alan on.

“Alan, calm down—you’re breaking school rules!” Hermione suddenly spoke, her face filled with concern.

“What school rule did I break? No magic in the corridors? This isn’t magic at all!” Alan raised an eyebrow.

Using the vine whip was a deliberate choice—this skill had never appeared in this world before, so it certainly couldn’t be classified as magic; he intended to exploit this loophole in the rules.

Hermione was left speechless by Alan’s words, but upon reflection, it did make sense—the vine whip’s form and effect didn’t resemble magic at all; it was more like an organ inside a flower bud.

Meanwhile, the bound Malfoy was panting—no, gasping for air—this was a normal physiological response; when agitated, nasal breathing alone was insufficient, and his mouth was tightly sealed, forcing him to increase the frequency of nasal inhalation.

The vine whip’s strength exceeded Alan’s expectations—he found he could effortlessly lift Malfoy into the air. He regarded his cruelly creative work with amusement and murmured, “Yield yet?”

Then he released his control over Malfoy’s mouth.

“You—woo-woo-woo—” Malfoy had barely spoken one word when the vine whip sealed his mouth again.

Malfoy’s expression and gaze in that instant said everything—Alan had no interest in listening to his nonsense.

In front of so many witnesses, he couldn’t resort to outright violence to punish Malfoy, so he opted for a gentler approach.

Another vine whip’s tip slipped inside Malfoy’s clothing, wriggling continuously over his armpits and ribs—sensitive spots...

Malfoy struggled even more violently, twisting his body, but it was all futile—the vine whip dug deep into his flesh, carving small indentations into his skin; his eyes widened, his face flushed... no—red with rage...

The students watching in the corridor fell utterly silent, staring in stunned awe. This didn’t seem like violence—tickling was more like a student prank, and today Alan’s prank simply had... well... artistic flair.

But Alan’s move was like a Panda ordering takeout—perfectly on point.

Under Alan’s assault, Malfoy quickly broke down. He looked at Alan, his eyes pleading.

Alan was willing to show mercy—he’d given Malfoy enough of a lesson today; this humiliation would linger in Malfoy’s memory for a long time.

He retracted the vine whip. Malfoy tumbled from the air, collapsing like a pile of mud, coughing violently, gasping for breath, tears still glistening in his eyes...

He dared not utter another threat, not even dare meet Alan’s gaze. He had his two lackeys help him up, then slunk away in shame...

The corridor returned to normal; other students regarded Alan’s flower bud with awe, though they didn’t know what it was, its power had just been demonstrated beyond doubt.

Harry and Ron excitedly discussed what had just happened—they’d always hoped to see Malfoy humiliated.

Hermione, meanwhile, had vanished somewhere—heaven knew where; she’d simply disappeared all of a sudden.

But they’d grown accustomed to Hermione’s unpredictable comings and goings.

When they next saw Hermione was at dinner, by which time word of Alan’s punishment of Malfoy had spread throughout Hogwarts; Alan felt everyone was secretly watching the vine whip emerging from his flower bud.

Yes, after dinner, Alan began using the vine whip again—simply because it was too useful.

At dinner, it could hold his plate, add seasonings—he didn’t need to lift a finger; the vine whip could do it all, adjustable in length and firmness, far more convenient than human hands.

Why not use such a convenient vine whip?

He felt full without eating much, attributing it to having sunbathed too long—the flower bud behind him seemed capable of photosynthesis.

In short, the Bud of Bellothorn was by far the most useful transformation he’d randomly obtained.

Then Alan received an owl from Professor McGonagall—she asked him to visit her office again after dinner.

The note unsettled Alan—was McGonagall going to punish him for the corridor incident?

But when he arrived at her office, he found Professor Sprout, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, Professor Dumbledore, and Mr. Scamander all present.

McGonagall didn’t reprimand him for the corridor incident at all; instead, she asked with great concern about the vine whip and the Flying Leaf Blade.

Alan breathed a sigh of relief and began demonstrating the vine whip and Flying Leaf Blade.

The professors launched into heated discussion—the vine whip was astonishing, while the Flying Leaf Blade was deemed a form of magic, one whose casting method and effects had never been seen before.

After prolonged debate, they reached no conclusion; finally, McGonagall decided more samples were needed—Alan had no right to object.

The one assigned to collect samples was Professor Snape.

This was the last person Alan wanted.

“Why Professor Snape?” Alan couldn’t help asking.

McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged glances, then replied calmly: “Because Severus has found a method to permanently preserve the products of your transformation.”

Alan doubted he’d misheard.

“When did this happen?” Alan asked urgently—he needed this technology now.

If he mastered it, he could make chickens lay eggs, eggs hatch chickens, endlessly accumulating magical materials.

A golden path stretched before him.

He could finally escape the life of a performer—he could live by selling his body...