Anton had no way to deal with the old wizard.
The old wizard had no way to deal with Anton either.
Besides mumbling incantations into Anton's ear, he couldn't do much more.
And ever since Anton had stuffed cotton into his ears, even if he suddenly popped his head out of the diary Anton was concentrating on, the resilient young man couldn't show a single expression.
He could stare at Anton until his heart was crawling.
And Anton could stare at him until he felt uneasy, even though he now had no heart.
The old wizard helplessly circled Anton a few times before finally escaping through the wall again. The Leaky Cauldron's location was truly magical: one step forward led to the unknown Muggle world, one step back to the mysterious Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley.
He didn't notice, and after he floated away, Anton quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
"Holy crap!"
"Holy crap! Holy crap!"
Anton threw the old wizard's diary away and rushed to the bathroom to wash his face vigorously.
"How am I supposed to get through this?" The little face in the mirror was filled with sorrow.
If this continued, he'd either die of fright one day, or develop a strong heart. Anton felt he might be the first. A hideous face would emerge from a book. After two months together, how could he not have noticed the old wizard's playfulness?
"Shit!"
Anton's premonition was right!
When he woke up, he opened his eyes to see the old wizard holding that ugly face in his hands, hovering over his head, staring at him blankly.
God knows how hard he clenched his gums, nearly breaking his teeth, to keep from reacting.
While he was washing his hair, a chill ran from his scalp to his back. He hurriedly rinsed off the foam, and
the old wizard was gone in the mirror. When he went to the bathroom, the old wizard slowly raised his head from the bathtub, almost making him pull back his shit.
The most disgusting time was when the bar owner, Old Tom, cooked a pot of boiled pork slices that he'd taught him, and the old wizard was floating in the soup the whole time!
He grabbed his hair and shoved his head into the soup.
Anton was desperate, picking up slice after slice of meat and toppings without blinking.
He was filled with regret.
Revenge was a cycle of revenge, and he shouldn't have killed the old wizard.
He felt like he was having a nightmare, and he couldn't wake up.
"I'll never kill again!" The old wizard, through his actions, had taught Anton how to be vicious and ruthless, how to navigate a chaotic world, and through his actions, he taught Anton what it meant to love life.
An old wizard was disgusting enough.
What if he were to eat a meal in the future surrounded by a horde of bizarre ghosts...
Anton shook his head quickly, trying to dispel the terrifying thought.
He persisted like this for three days.
Late at night,
Anton couldn't sleep. He lit the oil lamp and continued reading the old wizard's diary. He had already read it for the second time, and had read everything he needed to.
Now he began to memorize the three elements of every spell. He was working harder than he had done during the college entrance exam.
Aside from the one "Iron Armor Charm" spell in the diary, which was considered legitimate, all the others were pure Dark Arts. Each one was incredibly powerful, offering immense destructive power, not only to his enemies but also to himself.
Over the past three days, he'd experimented with casting several spells, only to discover that if his emotions weren't fully charged, they either failed or were incredibly weak, barely enough to scratch an itch.
Successful casting required a long period of emotional incubation.
And to guarantee the ability to cast Dark Magic successfully at any given moment, he had to constantly immerse himself in the necessary emotions. This was why Dark Magic was so damaging to humans.
He couldn't imagine constantly boiling with murderous intent. After a year, wouldn't he feel like he could cast a spell on anyone he saw?
Learning the Dark Arts was an extremely dangerous undertaking.
The wizarding world's consensus was indeed correct.
The old wizard floated around his bed, bored, occasionally tossing his head high into the air, catching it with his left hand. Tossing it up, catching it with his right hand, then his left hand...
Anton could indeed suppress his gaze and pretend he didn't see it, pulling himself under the covers to sleep.
But he gave up. He would rather sit by the window, enjoy the breeze, drink some beverage, and recite the text.
This is a long-lasting battle, and he is ready to be patient.
Slowly accepting the presence of a ghost beside him, Anton deliberately forced himself to face the existence of the old wizard. Isn't it just a test of patience, perseverance, and determination? Has he ever been afraid?
He just doesn't believe that the old wizard can follow him for the rest of his life.
Let's try it for a year first!
"No one can learn it all." A voice whispered in his ear.
Anton glanced over and saw that the old wizard had floated out of the window at some point, and raised his head to speak to his ear.
"Haha." Anton smiled proudly, "I've almost memorized it all."
"No, no, no." The old wizard held the severed head in his left hand and raised a finger with his right hand and shook it.
"Memorizing it doesn't count as learning it. Whether it's Dark or White Magic, the more powerful the spell, the stronger the emotion."
"You can't maintain hundreds of extreme emotions simultaneously."
"You've read my diary. Oralo has explored this topic before. She even went to the Muggle world to study psychology and successfully split herself into dozens of alter egos. It's very useful, but the consequences are also serious."
He held up three fingers on his right hand.
"In the Dark wizard community, those with a legitimate master-disciple relationship are strictly warned not to delve into more than three spells."
"One for the most commonly used spell, and two for supplementary spells."
Anton sneered. "That's why you can cast the Cruciatus Curse so smoothly, right?"
The old wizard was silent for a moment. "You killed me, even chopped off my head. Even after death, I can only hold my own head. I think we're even."
Even?
Anton didn't think so. The experiences of the past two months had not only brought him harm, but also a change in his personality.
He didn't know whether it was for the better or for the worse, but he knew that if his past self saw his current self, he would find it strange.
"I will never forgive you." Anton stared at the old wizard's head, "Never!"
A smile will end all grudges when we meet? Sorry, I don't have that tolerance.
The old wizard shook his head with his hand as if to shake his head.
"I don't need your forgiveness."
He floated in front of Anton, "I just want to make a deal with you."
Anton glanced at him indifferently, chuckled, put the diary back into his shoulder bag, walked straight past the old wizard and went to the bed.
"Not interested."
After saying that, he turned over and lay down, covering himself with the quilt.
"..."
The old wizard sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, holding his head, and Anton was too lazy to pay attention to him.
His body was still young and needed adequate nutrition and sleep. He fell asleep in a short while.