Theodore was still stunned when the System's mechanical voice droned on:
[You once crossed into the Primordial Era. Born mortal and alone, you scraped by in Chaoge City with a talent for storytelling.]
[By fortune you ate a strange fruit and shed your impurities. Fate then led you to the Chan Sect.]
[Now the Investiture Calamity nears. In Three Realms and Six Paths, neither Chan nor Jie can stand aside.]
[As a new disciple of the Chan Sect with middling talent, your only goal is to survive the Calamity.]
[This interface is the Primordial Networking System. Build relationships to receive rewards—this is your greatest support.]
[Main Quest: Forge wide connections, take part in the Investiture War, and survive.]
Silence.
It stretched until Theodore pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"This System is… unwell."
"I've said it already—this is the wizarding world. Harry Potter. Where are you getting Primordial Eras, Investiture Calamities, Chan and Jie from?"
"I didn't eat a 'strange fruit'; that was accidental magic."
"And this is London, not Chaoge."
"System, please be sensible."
The interface, naturally, was not. The prompt about participating in the Investiture War and surviving refused to disappear, hovering whenever he focused.
A translucent pane glimmered into being before him:
[Current Connections: None]
[Networking Rank: 0]
[Rewards: None]
In the centre, a red warning pulsed:
[The Primordial age darkens; the Calamity climbs and blood follows. Host, seek alliance with the Primordial powerhouses to secure rewards andbolster strength.]
Theodore could only look helplessly at the ceiling.
This was the wizarding world. Where, precisely, was he supposed to find a Primordial powerhouse to befriend?
"Fine. Perhaps I pretend the System never happened."
He was still stewing when a knock came at the study door.
Flanders' voice carried a thread of worry.
"Master Theodore, you've seemed unlike yourself—more sighs than usual since earlier. Has something gone amiss?"
Warmth pricked at Theodore's chest. For all his rigidity, the butler had been unfailingly devoted; in some ways, the closest thing Theodore had to family.
"All fine—just a minor blockage in the writing."
"Come in, Flanders."
Flanders pushed in a polished trolley: milk, sausages, a few rolls.
"You've hardly eaten today, Master Theodore. A bite, then rest."
Theodore was about to thank him when his hands paused mid-reach. The pane flashed fresh text:
[In the Shang capital of Chaoge, you chance upon the King's uncle, Bi Gan (a righteous minister from Primordial lore).]
[Upright and incorruptible, Bi Gan takes a liking to you…]
[Seize the moment. Befriend Bi Gan.]
Theodore stared at Flanders.
Excuse me?
Bi Gan?
Other than being elderly, punctilious, and stern in his honesty… in what universe did his butler resemble the legendary Bi Gan?
"See reason," Theodore muttered at the pane.
It did not. Instead, new lines unfurled—clean, brutal, irresistible:
[Reach acquaintance with Bi Gan → Reward: One-tenth of the Seven-Apertures Heart talent.]
[Reach close friend with Bi Gan → Reward: One-half of the Seven-Apertures Heart talent.]
[Reach life-and-death bond with Bi Gan → Reward: Complete Seven-Apertures Heart talent.]
[Seven-Apertures Heart: preternatural acuity; grasp the nature of things; see through to the essence.]
Theodore's eyes widened.
"…You're serious."
Seven-Apertures Heart. Anything with a name like that tended to be unfair. More importantly, grasping the nature of things—that was potions, herbology, alchemy; everything he could turn into an edge.
Legend says Bi Gan's heart unmasked the nine-tailed fox wearing a queen's face. For a mortal, that's beyond rare—that's monstrous.
His own magical gift might be late and thin. But with a Seven-Apertures Heart? Potions, Herbology, Alchemy—he could shine. In those fields, seeing the essence is cheating by another name.
He looked up at Flanders, decision snapping into place.
"Flanders, you've served me for three years now, haven't you?"
"Since my first break, you've tended every last detail. I am, sincerely, grateful."
Flanders blinked, uncertain where this was going.
Theodore continued, steady and honest.
"Soon I will leave for a very particular boarding school. They don't allow personal staff. We'll be apart for a time."
A flicker of hurt crossed the old man's eyes.
"Are you… dismissing me, Master Theodore?"
"What? No." Theodore shook his head at once. "I could never."
"We're years apart, yes—but in my mind, you're not just help. You are my friend."
"In truth—I've no family. You are my family. I will never dismiss you."
He set a small ring of keys in Flanders' hands: to the study, to the safe that held a few manuscript drafts.
"Keep these. While I'm gone, the study is yours to keep in order."
"The safe holds some early drafts. You said you liked my work; take them when you're bored."
"This house—while I'm away—please look after it."
Flanders stared at the keys. His eyes went abruptly red.
He knew exactly what they were worth. Newspapers would pay fortunes for hints of a new book—let alone a safe containing plot spines and character scaffolds. A man with ill will could make millions.
Theodore had placed them in his palm anyway.
Trust, placed like a crown.
Flanders' hands trembled as he closed his fingers.
"You have my word, Master Theodore. No one will enter your study. Your drafts will be safe."
"I swear it—on my honour and my life."
Emotion surged—and with it, the pane flared again:
[At the banquet, you and the King's uncle Bi Gan debate ills of the court and share a meeting of minds. Moved to tears, Bi Gan calls you kindred and vows to shield you in this age of treachery.]
[Your bond with Bi Gan has reached life-and-death.]
[Reward acquired: Complete Seven-Apertures Heart talent.]
Theodore exhaled, a shaky laugh slipping free.
"Flanders… welcome to the Primordial court."
And somewhere beneath the noise of London, something old clicked into place—like a lock turning in an unseen door.