Chapter 5: 5. Teacher Jerry from The Lord of the Rings
Little Whinging, Surrey. 4 Privet Drive.
The sun rose above the neat front garden, illuminating the Dursleys' brass number four plaque.
Sunlight crept into their living room, landing on Mr. Dursley's naturally plump backside.
Mrs. Dursley hummed an outdated tune in the kitchen, meticulously preparing breakfast.
The mantelpiece displayed numerous photos showcasing the family: the large-headed boy riding his first bicycle, riding a carousel at a fair, playing computer games with his father, being kissed by his mother—a perfect portrait of three.
Yet in the corner sat another photo, revealing the household held more than three.
The same tall, large-headed boy now hugged a smaller boy dressed identically, both beaming with sweet smiles.
"One-two-three-four, two-two-three-four, three-two-three-four. Again."
Dudley supported his entire body with one thumb, rising and falling on the lawn.
Sweat droplets soaked the grass and drenched his back.
Beneath him lay trampled blades of grass.
Harry sat on the house steps, chin propped on hands, silently watching Dudley exercise while mentally counting.
'105, 106... 200'
Though Harry appeared fearful of his cousin, he actually preferred staying near Dudley.
Their time together felt secure, and he never felt invisible.
When Harry reached three hundred in his count, Dudley finally collapsed onto the grass.
"Ah, satisfying."
Wiping sweat from his face, Dudley's flushed, chubby face radiated contentment.
He casually grabbed two dumbbells beside him, continuing bicep curls.
The 30kg discs felt like plastic toys in his hands.
Whether magic existed or not, a healthy, strong physique remained vital.
The great white wizard Gandalf's story taught us: to become an outstanding mage, one must first wield a sword, cleave through strong orcs, and only then master the Flash Spell.
"Harry, you should exercise too. You're too skinny and short—like a malnourished little monkey."
Dudley worked out while reminding his young cousin: "Between us, blonde bombshells adore muscular men like me."
Strictly speaking, Harry was fine except for being slightly thin.
Dudley's comparison was against himself.
"Alright, Big D."
Harry replied woodenly.
Unclear if he genuinely didn't understand or pretended not to.
His bright green eyes remained vacant, fixed on Dudley.
Who knew what he was thinking?
'Harry in the movies wasn't this slow. He was quite sharp.'
My cousin seems a bit dim. What do I do? Online, urgent.
How will he face that noseless villain like this?
"Dudley Dursley! Letter for you!"
The postman's shout interrupted Dudley's thoughts.
Handing Dudley a thick envelope, the postman cast an envious glance at his visibly muscled abdomen.
Dudley had nearly forgotten to add: muscles attracted not just blonde bombshells, but also intense male attention.
Our great Lu Xun once said: 'Fitness attracts the opposite sex; over-fitness attracts the same sex.'
Dudley examined the envelope's seal—a letter from Bloomsbury Publishing.
Inside lay a letter filled with text and a 10,000-pound cheque.
Dudley glanced around.
Seeing only Harry noticed him, he carefully tucked the cheque into his pocket before opening the letter.
"Dear Teacher Jerry" began with elaborate, lengthy praise—formulaic official pleasantries.
Jerry—Dudley's pen name.
Upon arriving in this world, Dudley's first priority was making money.
"Money makes the world go round; without it, you're stuck." This held true in any world. Moreover, mages were notoriously expensive to maintain in any reality.
Combined with the Dursleys' previous financial struggles, Dudley felt panicked with barely any cash in his pockets. Thus, he chose an irreversible path: submitting novels for publication.
Though Dudley knew the adage "Master math and science, conquer the world" so well it was worn thin from repetition, he considered other ventures. The problem? His pre-transmigration self hadn't mastered those subjects, and it seemed troublesome. Writing novels was the simplest, lowest-risk money-making method.
"Payment for The Lord of the Rings Book One enclosed. Please arrive at 10 AM this Saturday to discuss publishing Book Two. Sincerely, Akashni of Bloomsbury Publishing."
Teacher Jerry, author of this year's most popular fantasy novel The Lord of the Rings, was Dudley himself.
This world differed from the one Dudley remembered. Perhaps due to wizards, Western fantasy works were scarce. None of the great Western fantasy epics he recalled existed here.
At least The Lord of the Rings series hadn't been published. So Dudley adopted a "borrowing" approach, replicating it with minor adjustments.
He didn't copy entirely. He incorporated web novel tropes like "Never underestimate Hobbits" and "Thirty years east, thirty years west." Novels needed broad appeal to succeed.
Thus, The Lord of the Rings sold even better than in his original world.
Ten thousand pounds in royalties during 1980s England was a substantial sum.
Given The Lord of the Rings' current popularity, Dudley deserved more. But as a newcomer, he felt satisfied with this amount.
Besides, this was only Book One.
Focusing solely on immediate gains was unwise. Steady income streams were preferable.
Moreover, he hadn't even published one full book's worth of content—only about half of Book One.
A certain noseless villain once said seven was a magical number. So Dudley planned to split the Lord of the Rings trilogy into seven installments.
Sure enough, the publisher had already approached him.
Dudley was now a golden brand. Even if his next book was pure trash, it would still sell millions.
The so-called "discussion" was essentially a negotiation for increased royalties. The outcome depended on Saturday's talks.
Regardless, he'd already established his reputation.
If this publisher couldn't offer satisfactory terms, others would gladly pay premium prices.
The name "Jerry" now symbolized money.
Dudley had it all planned: after completing the three-part, seven-book series, he'd release Hobbit spin-offs for more profit. Then sell film rights.
WOW~ That money would last a lifetime without extravagance.
Achieving financial freedom in one step.
He just wondered if it would suffice for his future mage career. If not, he'd write more books. Dragonlance Chronicles seemed promising too.
With ten thousand pounds secured, Dudley was in high spirits. He ruffled Harry's messy, nest-like hair: "Harry, follow your big cousin. I'll treat you to ice cream."
"Alright, Big D."
Before they could leave the garden, Mrs. Dursley's voice called from the window.
"Oh, my precious Dudley darling, where are you going? Come eat breakfast first."
(End of Chapter)