Chapter 61
During the remaining days of the Christmas break, Harry put away his invisibility cloak and did not use it again.
Allen, meanwhile, began organizing the insights he had gained from the magic mirror.
First, the information revealed by the mirror deepened Allen’s understanding of Transfiguration, revealing its infinite possibilities.
If the magical mechanism in this world truly worked as he suspected—explainable through programming logic—what could he accomplish by harnessing it?
Previously, when analyzing other spells, Allen had discovered hidden parameters and used them to extend the spells’ effects.
But the parameters of Transfiguration were clearly very different from those of other spells, yet he seemed unable to exploit them.
Just turning a matchstick into a needle required over a thousand key-value pairs in the first parameter describing the transformation result.
Simply folding a handkerchief twice automatically involved hundreds of lines of procedural logic in the second parameter.
With so many parameters, even altering a few might yield negligible results; changing too many would overwhelm any human mind.
And one thing puzzled him deeply: when he turned the matchstick into a needle, he hadn’t consciously thought of all that—so how had so many parameters emerged?
Allen lay on his bed, his head throbbing with these thoughts; he felt the dorm was too hot to allow clear thinking, so he opened the window to let in cold air and clear his mind.
As he opened the window, he didn’t notice and accidentally knocked something off the sill.
He picked it up and saw it was a puppet; after a second look, he recognized it. He quickly recalled the memory of this puppet from his mind.
It was the puppet he had used earlier to Transfigure the Ultraman Taro figurine; now that the Transfiguration effect had faded, it had reverted to its original wooden form.
He looked up at the sill and saw another puppet there—the one he had used to Transfigure the Ultraman Tiga figurine.
He walked over and took it down.
He placed both puppets before him and recalled the moments when he had Transfigured them.
At the time, Allen had been thrilled by the idea of Transfiguring Ultramen; he felt his nerves had been stretched too tight lately, and he wanted something to relax his mind, to anchor his emotions in familiar forms from his world—and Ultraman Tiga was his final choice.
For this, he had crafted a puppet shaped closely like an Ultraman, because according to Transfiguration’s principles, the closer the target resembled the desired result, the easier the transformation.
But he hadn’t expected that such a small figurine would demand so much effort; he failed repeatedly, constantly revising his mental image of the transformation, which only stoked Allen’s stubborn determination.
After a full week, he finally succeeded in creating a Tiga figurine that resembled the original by ninety percent, and then he failed over twenty more times before producing a second one.
Though both figurines were merely hollow shells—wooden inside, only resembling Ultramen on the outside—the sight of these familiar forms eased his loneliness.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Harry had seen the Ultraman figurines and begged Allen to Transfigure a Taro figurine for him, something he’d long desired. Allen had initially refused—he’d already spent a week’s spare time on Tiga and didn’t want to waste more on Taro.
But in the end, he couldn’t resist Harry’s pleading and reluctantly agreed to try; Harry even produced his treasured Taro Ultraman poster as a reference.
Yet Allen, looking at the poster, succeeded in Transfiguring the spare puppet into a Taro figurine in just seven attempts—and the details were even finer than those of the Tiga figurine he’d made before.
At the time, Allen had assumed it was because his experience from Transfiguring Tiga, combined with the poster’s aid, had made Taro easier—and he hadn’t given it much thought.
But now, recalling the incident, he sensed something was off.
The difficulty levels shouldn’t have differed so drastically!
He stared at the two puppets in his hands and decided to try again.
First, Taro: he knew little about this Ultraman; his knowledge of its details still came entirely from Harry’s cherished poster.
Now the poster was gone, but Allen had studied its details meticulously before his previous Transfiguration; now he recalled them, and most remained vivid in his mind.
He focused on Taro’s image and cast Transfiguration on a puppet; after seventeen failures, he succeeded.
Then he prepared to Transfigure Tiga: for Tiga, Allen was deeply familiar—he had watched the entire TV series and countless fan-made shorts, and his mental image of Tiga was flawless, which was why he’d chosen Tiga as his first target.
He could say his mental clarity of Tiga’s appearance was far sharper than his memory of Taro, which he’d only seen on a poster.
Yet he quickly grew frustrated and doubted himself; though Tiga’s image was crystal clear in his mind, the Transfiguration results were wildly erratic. He had to undo the spell and recast it repeatedly—until the forty-third attempt did he finally produce a recognizable Tiga figurine.
He placed the two figurines side by side and compared them: Taro’s details were finer.
Allen was delighted by this result—it confirmed a thought he’d been harboring.
He knew Ultraman Tiga first aired in Japan in 1996, but it was now 1991; Tiga’s image had not yet appeared in this world. Taro’s TV series, according to Harry’s memory, was something he’d watched at age seven, so its original broadcast date must have been earlier—and Taro figurines had certainly been sold in large numbers during that time.
Thus, the difference in Transfiguration difficulty must be tied to this.
But Allen still couldn’t form a clear theory.
At that moment, the dorm door opened. Harry walked in expressionlessly, glanced at Allen, snorted, and headed for his desk.
Allen felt helpless; Harry had been like this for a day. He knew Harry was angry with him. Knowing Harry well, he recognized the boy’s stubborn pride had flared up—but he had no good way to fix it.
Watching Harry’s cold demeanor, Allen sighed inwardly, unsure how to mend their relationship.
Then he suddenly remembered: when Harry entered, his gaze had lingered for a moment on the Ultraman figurines in Allen’s hand. Instantly, he had an idea.
He approached Harry with a pleading smile. Harry turned away coldly, refusing to look.
Allen smiled warmly and placed both figurines before Harry. “Harry, I’m sorry. Please forgive me! Look—I went through so much trouble to Transfigure two of your favorite Ultramen as an apology. Pick one!”
Harry turned his head, glancing sideways at Allen. Allen smiled even more sincerely, even more obsequiously…
Harry’s gaze returned to the two Ultramen figurines. He said, with haughty pride:
“I want both.”
End of Chapter
