— Still too slow! Your opponent isn't going to wait around while you figure out which spell to cast! — Victor said coldly, watching a heavy-breathing Adele struggle to get up from the floor. — Your body needs to react instinctively! And how many times do I have to tell you: don't stand still, keep moving!
Adele merely grit her teeth in silence.
— Fine, while your magic is recovering—twenty laps around the hall, double-time!
Adele gave a knowing nod and immediately set off along the perimeter of the hall, wincing from a sharp pain every time her left foot struck the ground. Yet her face remained resolute and focused as she obstinately maintained her pace.
At that moment, Nicolas entered the training hall that had been outfitted in his manor at Victor's special request. Surveying the exhausted Adele, who was covered in bruises and scrapes, he frowned in concern. Noticing Abigail sitting nearby with a book in her hands, Nicolas walked over to her:
— Don't you think he's pushing her too hard?
Abigail looked up from her book, glancing first at Adele running laps, and then at Victor, who stood like a statue in the center of the room, strictly monitoring his sister's every step:
— Victor is fully aware of how dangerous it is to be around him. He has far too many powerful enemies, which is why he's so strict. And Adele understands that completely—that's why she's striving to grow stronger. Don't worry, Mr. Flamel, he would never harm his own sister, and he knows exactly when to stop.
Nicolas nodded in understanding:
— I see... Do you happen to know where Perenelle is?
— She's in England right now. She, Daphne, and Hermione are taking care of the properties Victor bought: overseeing the renovations and layout.
— Ah, very well then, — realizing there was nothing left for him to do here, Nicolas quietly turned around and left.
After a while, Adele finally came to a stop. She was breathing heavily, sweat running down her forehead in streams.
— Alright, sweetheart, you can take a short break, — Victor approached her and held out a vial of Restorative Potion.
Adele downed the potion in a single gulp and almost immediately felt the pain in her body subside. However, she didn't sit down to rest; instead, she drew her wand, stepped aside, and diligently began blasting spells at a specialized training target.
— She really is quite hard-working, — Abigail remarked as Victor came over and sat beside her.
— Yes, and remarkably strong for her age, — Victor replied, tracking his sister's precise movements. — If she internalizes everything I tell her, going up against an average adult wizard won't be a problem for her.
— Oh, really? — Abigail asked in surprise. — Is she truly that strong already?
— Well, it's more that ordinary wizards are far too weak, — Victor chuckled softly. Seeing Abigail's puzzled look, he explained: — Hogwarts doesn't actually teach real offensive magic. Everything is limited to household charms and basic defensive spells. If a wizard wants to learn how to fight properly, they have to master combat spells and curses on their own. But very few people have that kind of drive. Most are content with the meager curriculum they're taught. That's how "non-combat" mages come to be. And my little Adele, I'm certain, could handle someone like that with ease.
Abigail nodded thoughtfully, then, after a slight hesitation, asked:
— Victor... Could I become a witch?
Victor smiled:
— Oho, I was wondering when you'd finally ask about that! What, didn't find anything useful on the topic in those books?
Abigail shook her head with a tinge of disappointment.
— Well, the straightforward answer to your question is no, — Victor said. — You cannot become a witch. The absolute most you can do is use certain artifacts, and even then, far from all of them.
Abigail let out a disappointed sigh, but Victor's next words caught her off guard:
— That being said, nothing is impossible.
— So... there is a way after all?! — she perked up with hope.
Victor shook his head again:
— No. There are no known methods.
Abigail was completely confused and narrowed her eyes slightly:
— Are you just mocking me?
Victor laughed heartily:
— Ha-ha-ha, of course not! Turning an ordinary human into a magic user is considered impossible. But that's the whole point of a magical world—to make the impossible happen. Just a week ago, I would have advised you to forget all about the idea myself. But recently, something bordering on absolute fantasy happened to me. So now I'll put it this way: it has indeed never happened before. But that doesn't mean it can't happen in the future.
Abigail pondered this for a moment, then looked him straight in the eyes with a firm gaze:
— Then you're going to help me.
— And why would I do that? — Victor smirked.
— Well, obvious isn't it... I'm your secretary now, — Daphne had forbidden her from calling herself his assistant. — Would you really be satisfied having such a weak secretary?
Victor narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He wanted to answer that he could easily replace her with someone more suitable, but as his eyes swept over her figure and attractive face, he realized he didn't want to do that at all.
— Fair enough, you've convinced me, — he agreed. — Tell Daphne to remind me about this at school: I'll have plenty of free time there to think about the matter.
Abigail's face instantly lit up with joy.
— Hm-m-m, — Victor looked around the training hall. — I'll need to install some exercise equipment in here as well.
— What for? — she asked.
Victor gave a menacing, predatory grin:
— What do you mean what for? For you, of course, my dear! You're the one who just declared that I can't have weak secretaries! Even if I can't make you a witch right this second, that doesn't mean I can't make you stronger. Ha-ha-ha!
Abigail wasn't frightened in the slightest by his threatening appearance or his words. On the contrary, it suited her just fine—she terribly disliked that even little girls in this house were stronger than her.
Victor turned to his sister:
— Alright, Adele, that's enough for today. You're both free, while I have something to work on with Nicolas. Man, it's been a while since we created something new together.
Victor headed to his room and began digging through a nightstand filled to the brim with journals until he pulled out the one he needed. In these notebooks, he jotted down ideas that struck him from time to time. Most of them, truth be told, were plagiarized from various movies and anime. These were far from all his concepts—the most important and dangerous ones he always kept in his spatial ring (which, by the way, was also a stolen concept brought to life by Flamel).
Why didn't he carry everything on him? Simple: these journals were left here specifically for Nicolas. Even though they had fallen out once, Victor knew full well that without the alchemist's skill, he wouldn't be able to realize most of his ideas. He had hoped Nicolas wouldn't be able to resist sneakily swiping one of the notebooks. And that was precisely what happened—right up until the moment they created the Sharingan. After that, Perenelle strictly forbade her husband from implementing Victor's ideas without her personal approval, and Nicolas himself felt too ashamed to steal the journals knowing his wife would find out, no matter how strongly he was tempted.
So, first and foremost, Victor went to get Perenelle's permission. When she read what exactly he intended to make, she nearly beat him up on the spot! But he quickly explained that he was developing it for Abigail, and Perenelle instantly calmed down: as long as the project posed no threat to Victor himself, she couldn't care less. Satisfied with her grandson's safety, she approved the endeavor.
To Nicolas, however, Victor didn't even breathe a word about Abigail—he simply presented the project as a purely alchemical experiment. Nicolas was practically bouncing with joy: what Victor proposed to create opened up an entirely new direction in alchemy!
The two of them immediately dove headfirst into their work. For several days, Victor only left the workshop to help train Adele and Abigail—he even ate inside the workshop. And just as they were entering the home stretch, Hermione and Daphne had to physically drag him outside, as the time for their scheduled meeting was fast approaching.
By this point, everything was already prepared: the properties had been purchased and renovated—with magic, the process had taken less than a day.
— Are you sure you don't want to conduct the meeting yourself? — Hermione asked after they brought him up to speed on their progress.
— No, no, I trust you completely, and I love how everything turned out! Now, if you don't mind, I'll be off: Nicolas and I are almost done, — Victor said, hardly listening to anyone.
He was already about to get up when Perenelle grabbed his hand with a frown and forced him back onto the sofa.
— Victor, be serious, — she gestured strictly toward Daphne and Hermione. — The girls worked very hard to bring your plan to life. Show at least a little bit of interest!
Victor shifted his gaze between Hermione and Daphne, then let out a heavy sigh. His grandmother was absolutely right.
— There's no need to push him. It's not that he doesn't care; he's just completely hyperfocused on something else right now. Let him finish what he's working on, — Abigail intervened calmly from her seat in a nearby armchair.
Perenelle frowned even harder and was about to tell Abigail not to butt in, but Victor's former psychologist continued:
— He has OCD—Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. It manifested back in his early childhood: he was obsessed with cleanliness and perfect order, needing every single item to be strictly in its place. He became an absolute perfectionist with a fixation on symmetry. If something captures his interest, he won't rest until he brings it to absolute perfection, and he simply can't shift his attention to anything else. And the fact that he's now capable of staying awake for days on end has only exacerbated his condition, — Abigail smiled and looked at Victor. — How much sleep have you gotten over these past three days?
— None at all! He hasn't slept a wink! — Adele answered crossly on his behalf, crossing her arms over her chest.
— See? That's what I'm talking about. He does it unconsciously. Have you noticed that whenever Adele leaves something out of place, he immediately and silently tidies it up and puts it back for her?
Perenelle mentally replayed Victor's behavior in her head and gave a knowing nod. Even when they cooked together in the kitchen, he maintained immaculate cleanliness, and if a dish turned out even slightly sub-par, he would scrap it and start all over again.
— Can this be cured somehow? — Perenelle asked.
Abigail nod:
— Of course. But for that to happen, he has to actually want to fix it himself. Though, by the looks of it, he's completely fine with how he is.
Victor nodded with satisfaction:
— She's right.
Daphne frowned:
— You knew you had this disorder?
— Of course I knew! And it doesn't bother me in the slightest—on the contrary, it only helps. Instead of grabbing onto a dozen tasks and finishing none, I focus on one single goal and execute it flawlessly. And by the way, OCD isn't all I've got: on top of that, there's bipolar, panic disorder—though that hasn't acted up in a while—BPD, NPD, ASPD, and schizophrenia... I'm practically a walking goldmine of psychiatric conditions!
— Schizophrenia?! And when did that manage to manifest? — Abigail interrupted, knitting her brows.
— Ha-ha-ha! Silly girl, I've always had it! I was just really good at hiding it. I was having hallucinations even back when you were treating me, — Victor stood up. — Alright, I'm running off to the workshop one last time and then I'll be right back. And so you don't get bored, Abigail can explain in detail what all those diagnoses mean and how exactly they show up in me!