1991. Autumn.
The Cavendish family was no stranger to misfortune. A notorious underworld dynasty in the United States, it had endured a devastating blow a decade earlier. The patriarch vanished in a bizarre car accident—no witnesses, no wreckage, as if every trace had been meticulously scrubbed from existence. His wife perished alongside him.
As one of the few bloodlines with a single heir, the family's future rested on their youngest son, Erwin Cavendish. With the aid of loyal elders, he seized control of the empire at just six years old.
It wasn't easy. Doubts swirled from within, threats loomed from rivals. But Erwin crushed them all with a chilling ruthlessness far beyond his tender years. In the cutthroat London underworld, only the Cavendishes survived.
Erwin owed his edge to more than grit. He was a time traveler, carrying the mind of an adult in a child's body. He'd devoured countless films and shows in his past life, but nothing prepared him for this. Luck had been his staunchest ally, amplified by erratic supernatural gifts—magic, he now realized, that surged like a protective storm whenever danger loomed. No one saw it coming from a boy so young.
In the dim grandeur of the Cavendish manor, Erwin lounged on a leather sofa, newspaper in hand. His tailored suit hung impeccably on his eleven-year-old frame, silver hair neatly cropped. He sipped coffee, the picture of refined British nobility. Who could guess the blood on those slender hands?
He set the cup down.
"Tom," Erwin called to the old butler hovering nearby. "Any leads on my parents?"
Butler Tom bowed his head. "I'm afraid not, Young Master. We've turned over every stone, but... nothing."
Erwin's brow furrowed. "Five years. I've hunted since the day I took over, and you tell me there's not a whisper? What, did the heavens snatch them away?"
Butler Tom fell silent, eyes downcast.
A frantic shout shattered the quiet. "Young Master Erwin! Young Master!"
Erwin's expression soured. "Rivers," he said coolly, "I believe I warned you about bellowing in this house. One more time, and it's your tongue."
Rivers froze, trembling. "N-no, sir! It's urgent this time—I swear!"
Erwin sighed. "Out with it, then. If it's not worth the noise, you'll regret it."
The man gulped. "An old fellow's at the gate, demanding to see you. We couldn't shake him loose—tried with five of us, and he wouldn't budge."
Curiosity flickered in Erwin's eyes. His retainers were no weaklings; each could handle a brawl against odds. An old man besting them? It smacked of those hidden masters from the stories—come to claim a prodigy disciple.
"Bring him in," Erwin ordered. "And arm everyone. Stay sharp."
Rivers bolted off. Erwin eased back, drawing a pistol from his waistband. He checked the load, flicked off the safety, and holstered it. Caution was his creed. It had kept him breathing this long.
Minutes later, Rivers returned, ushering in a tall figure with a flowing silver beard, half-moon spectacles, and robes that whispered of another era.
"Mr. Erwin Cavendish," the newcomer said with a twinkle in his eye. "A pleasure, at last. You're a tough man to reach."
Erwin's gaze sharpened, pupils narrowing for a split second. He knew that face. Albus Dumbledore—the century's mightiest wizard, vanquisher of dark lords.
Of all the twists... he'd crossed into the Harry Potter world. Years of denial, and here was proof, strolling into his parlor. Not for tea, surely. Magic ran in his veins after all. No more Muggle pretenses.
A spark of excitement stirred, tempered by caution. Where was his acceptance letter?
Dumbledore's eyes gleamed as he studied the boy. "Your face tells me you recognize me. How intriguing."
Erwin's pulse quickened. That flicker of recognition—damn it, he'd given himself away. Dumbledore was a sly old fox, sniffing out secrets like a bloodhound. And with his mastery of Legilimency... one wrong thought, and the old man could pry open his skull.
Exposing his time-traveler origins? In any world, that marked you as a freak, a threat.
Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, blue eyes flashing faintly.
Then, an inner voice echoed in Erwin's mind.
...
Welcome to the start of something legendary!
You're reading a story that's already a massive hit (8.9 rating on Tomato!), and I'm here to ensure you get the high-quality English version it deserves.
I've worked tirelessly to translate every spell and system detail manually—no low-effort AI or MTL here. My promise to you: this top-notch quality will remain consistent from the very first chapter.
This journey is going to be a Superhit, and I want you with me from day one.
Do me a huge favor: If you enjoyed this, smash that Powerstone button and add this to your Library! Your early support helps the algorithm recognize that Erwin's story is the real deal.
Stick around—this isn't your typical Harry Potter story.
Next chapter is waiting!