[Satisfaction from Albus Dumbledore +10]
[Satisfaction from Albus Dumbledore +10]
[Goodwill from Albus Dumbledore +10]
Kaison trailed behind, his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
Soon, the two arrived at an empty classroom. Dumbledore sat at the center, joined by Professor McGonagall, whom Kaison had briefly met, and a greasy-haired professor—Severus Snape, whom he also recognized. There were two others: a short man and a kindly woman, both unfamiliar to him.
The greasy-haired professor glanced over casually and said, "All this fanfare—I thought you'd dragged Ollivander in here."
Ouch… that was a sharp jab.
Kaison swallowed hard and took a seat across from them. A form lay flat on the table in front of him, alongside a quill.
Name…
Kaison Heath.
Gender…
Male.
Age…
25.
Education…
Manchester University, Civil Engineering Department.
Why did he suddenly feel a pang of embarrassment?
Specialized Magic…
Alchemy, Transfiguration, Charms.
That last part he scribbled down reluctantly, following a whispered suggestion from Dumbledore.
After handing over the form, he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
The classroom's ceiling and walls clashed in color. If he were designing it, he'd use spruce planks—elegant, harmonious, and dignified.
Across from him…
"Mr. Heath…" Snape's eyes were fixed on the form as he spoke.
"…Mr. Heath?"
"Kaison Heath!"
"Huh? What's up?"
Kaison snapped out of his ceiling study, looking at the greasy-haired professor who had called him.
"Would you mind demonstrating your alchemy?"
"What do you need me to show? I mean, how should I demonstrate it?"
"The basics—matter transmutation, perhaps? After all, aside from a certain revolving-door position, I'd prefer my colleagues not be incompetent or frauds."
Kaison nodded thoughtfully. Honestly, he was something of an incompetent fraud in this context. If Dumbledore hadn't dragged him here, he wouldn't even be in this classroom.
It wasn't that he didn't want the so-called professor job. He just had a clear understanding of his own abilities. Renovations? He could dominate with ease. Alchemy? What even was that?
The four professors watched his near-admission of guilt through his nod, their strange gazes turning to Dumbledore, who could only offer an awkward, "Just show us something. Preferably something… impressive."
"Alright."
The next moment, an iron block appeared in his hand, followed by four *thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk* sounds as he assembled a T-shaped iron frame.
"That's not Transfiguration," McGonagall clarified.
"Obviously. And then?" Snape's gaze remained skeptical, now focused on what he perceived as alchemy. Why did it feel so… bizarre?
Then, a pumpkin block appeared in Kaison's hand, which he placed atop the iron T to serve as a head. In an instant, the pumpkin block transformed into a pair of shears.
To be honest, this display alone earned Snape's respect. He hadn't sensed any excess magical fluctuations. It was as if Kaison had conjured four cubic meters of iron from nothing, then transformed it into a pumpkin block, and finally into a rough pair of shears.
Creating matter from pure magic without equivalent exchange? None of the alchemists Snape knew could manage that.
But what came next nearly made Snape's eyes pop out. Kaison used the shears to carve a jack-o'-lantern face into the pumpkin. Then the T-shaped iron frame and the pumpkin head began to melt, reshaping themselves.
In the blink of an eye, they formed a towering, three-meter-tall iron knight—an Iron Golem.
Dumbledore watched it all, his eyes twinkling with even more amusement. He nudged McGonagall with his elbow.
"Well? What do you think?"
McGonagall's expression grew serious. "I'm no expert, but I sense… a spark of life. Creating life through alchemy…"
"Dumbledore, where did you find this guy? I don't recall Hogwarts ever having a student like him…" Snape added.
"You'd have to blame the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance for that," Dumbledore said casually.
The others didn't dwell on what he meant, likely assuming the Quill's reach didn't extend beyond England and Scotland. They had no idea that this seemingly prodigious alchemist had, until today, been living in the Muggle world.
They quickly scribbled circles on the form below—a sign of approval, welcoming a new colleague to Hogwarts.
When Dumbledore pulled out a pre-prepared contract, Snape happened to glance at it.
Monthly Salary: 130 Galleons.
Honestly, that was about average for most professors, give or take. But for a technical role like alchemy or potions? It was practically beggar's wages.
Still, Snape didn't meddle. An alchemist of this caliber probably wasn't short on cash. Worst case, he could transmute gold. Unlike Snape, slaving away over cauldrons for hard-earned Galleons.
Sigh… life is tough.
"Do I sign it?" Kaison asked.
"Oh, right here." Dumbledore practically skipped out of his seat, standing behind Kaison and pointing to a blank spot on the parchment.
"A professor's job… sounds nice."
Kaison shrugged, picked up the quill, and signed his name.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. You'll love it here. I'm Filius Flitwick—call me whatever you like," Professor Flitwick said, approaching Kaison's feet and extending a hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Professor." Kaison bent down to shake Flitwick's hand.
"Pomona Sprout."
"Professor Sprout."
Kaison introduced himself sincerely, exchanging polite greetings, while Dumbledore tucked away the magical contract as if he'd just struck gold.
Watching the scene, Kaison couldn't shake the sudden feeling that he'd been had.
Before he could dwell on it, Snape, clad in black robes, appeared before him.
"Severus Snape. I enjoy conversing with talented individuals. My office is in the dungeons."
"I'll keep that in mind."
As the classroom emptied, leaving just the three of them and the Iron Golem, McGonagall finally approached and shook Kaison's hand.
"I'd be delighted to show you around Hogwarts. This isn't just your future workplace—I hope it feels like a second home."
"Maybe it'll be my first," Kaison replied politely.
"Even better."
…
During the day, under McGonagall's exasperated gaze, Kaison dismantled the Iron Golem. He then picked a spacious, sunlit office on the third floor and followed McGonagall around, getting acquainted with Hogwarts and its staff.
It wasn't until evening that he finally had a moment to himself, returning to his office.
All in all, the job sounded great, and his colleagues seemed to like him. Some might be a bit prickly—hard to read on the surface—but the flood of satisfaction and trust notifications in his mind didn't lie.
This wave of positive sentiments triggered another upgrade to his Minecraft system.
A new block appeared in his hand.
An aura of decay and desolation filled the office. He stared at the Wither Skeleton Skull floating in his palm, lost in thought…
This block—it looked like it could explode at any moment. What was up with that?