Chapter 58

Allen then adjusted several more positions, but it was still the same.

He fell into deep thought: the mirror showed one’s deepest desire, yet he saw nothing.

He knew himself best—he was not someone detached, free of desire.

Then where was the problem?

Could the mirror not see into his heart?

Suddenly he recalled his conversation with the Sorting Hat on his first day—something clicked.

The mirror truly could not see into his heart!

Allen felt disappointed—this thing was useless to him.

But another thought popped into his mind: could he open his heart? Maybe he should try.

Then he began to try.

He relaxed as much as he could, whispering mental affirmations that this was a place of perfect safety, that he should lower his guard...

Sure enough, images began to appear in the mirror: himself standing atop Voldemort’s head in a triumphant pose, surrounded by countless witches and wizards gazing at him with awe and reverence...

But Allen frowned again—he felt something was wrong. His deepest desire wasn’t to return to his familiar little apartment on Earth, crack open a soda, and happily binge-watch shows and play games?

Yet he soon let it go: Earth’s memories were his most hidden secret; such shallow mental suggestion could never fully open his heart.

Then he thought of another possibility, and immediately began testing it.

He filled his heart with longing for gold, then tried to open himself fully.

In the mirror, he saw himself—this time the scene had changed: he was stuffing fistfuls of Jin Jialong into his pockets, then the Jin Jialong turned into stacks of red banknotes, the portraits on them sharply visible...

Allen knew his guess was correct—but what good was this?

These mental opiates were useless to him; they would only drain his will to strive.

He smiled bitterly, ready to step out of the mirror’s range, lift the charms from Harry and Ron, and take them straight back.

But something still felt off, so he studied the mirror’s image again.

Suddenly his gaze sharpened—he knew what was wrong, and examined the portraits on the red banknotes more closely.

He thought the details of the portraits were too intricate, too sharp; he checked other details on the notes and found them equally precise.

He suddenly understood: even someone who dealt with money daily couldn’t memorize every detail of Renminbi, and the fifth series of Renminbi had only been issued in 1999—so this world could not possibly contain it. The mirror could not show things that didn’t exist here; therefore, the details of the Renminbi must come from his own memory.

So this mirror could perfectly reconstruct every detail of his memories!

This was the power of magic! Allen began to marvel.

How could he use this function of the mirror?

One answer instantly surfaced:

Transfiguration!

He had previously used the Lei Niao’s eyes to see the magical curtain produced during spellcasting—its surface displayed information composed of ancient magical runes. He could read the runes on other spells’ curtains, but never those of Transfiguration.

Because Transfiguration’s data volume was hundreds of times greater than other spells; the information on the curtain flowed too fast for Allen to perceive.

But the mirror now offered him a new way to observe.

The curtain produced during Transfiguration must exist in his memory.

Perhaps he could use the mirror’s ability to reconstruct the precise details of those runes.

He didn’t know if it would work—but he had to try.

He cleared his mind again, vividly recalling the memory of his first time seeing the Transfiguration curtain through the Lei Niao’s eyes, filling his heart with the desire to see the runes clearly, then opening himself fully once more.

Sure enough, this time he saw himself standing beside a massive, motionless curtain—every ancient magical rune on it sharply visible...

He knew he had succeeded—a new world had opened before him...

Allen suppressed his excitement and began carefully studying the ancient runes in the mirror.

Soon he realized the runes were incomplete—when this thought arose, the curtain in the mirror turned a page...

Allen quickly understood how to control the mirror to show what he wanted to see.

He devoured the content voraciously—but soon sensed something was wrong.

He furrowed his brow, studying the curtain in the mirror repeatedly.

There were only three key-value pairs on the curtain!

More precisely, only the outermost layer had three key-value pairs, and the first key’s value was itself a nested set of key-value pairs—multiple layers deep.

For example, if Allen were filling out his student file, the structure would be:

Student File: {

Personal Information: {Name: Allen;

Age: 11;

}

Education History: {Elementary School: Orphan Elementary;

Middle School: Orphan Middle;

}

}

This was a multi-layered key-value set. (In programming data structures, such a set is called a dictionary; henceforth, it will be called a dictionary.)

The first key-value pair of Transfiguration had this structure—its key could be called “Student File,” and its value was a dictionary with many nested layers. (Not understanding this section won’t affect later reading.)

Allen studied the dictionary of the first key-value pair—it contained over a thousand key-value pairs. He strained to identify the ancient runes and tried to translate their meanings.

He quickly recognized some familiar runes: length, width, height, color...

He instantly understood: the information in this dictionary was a translation of the transformation result he had imagined during spellcasting—so the first key-value pair stored the desired transformation outcome.

The structure of this first key-value pair meant any imagined transformation result from the wizard would be translated into data and transmitted to the Will of the World—meaning Transfiguration, unlike other spells, held infinite possibilities.

Take “Serpensortia” as an example: its key-value pairs had fixed keys, with no “color” key; its effect summoned a black snake—the black color was default. Allen could not summon a green snake.

But the “Lumos” spell had a “color” key, so Allen could summon light orbs of any color.

Thus, Transfiguration’s structure meant it could achieve any transformation effect—though surely with limitations, such as the famous Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

Though he had merely confirmed a conclusion he’d long known, Allen was exhilarated—once the underlying principle was understood, there was room for manipulation.

Then Allen turned to decode the remaining two key-value pairs—but his expression froze...

Because the values of the remaining two key-value pairs were empty!

Empty?