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Several days had passed since Dudley obtained that so-called "mage physique" from the blue, seaweed-haired guy. After the initial frustration, he quickly adjusted his mindset.
Life had to go on. Instead of complaining about fate, it was better to think of ways to grow stronger.
And so, Dudley threw himself headfirst into physical training, dedicating himself almost obsessively to practicing Hamon Energy.
St. George Primary School.
"Dudley, I heard you went to Oxford Dragon Primary School as an exchange student. So, how was it?"
A few broad-shouldered boys wearing rugby team uniforms casually draped their arms around Dudley's neck as they asked.
Not all students were afraid of Dudley. He wasn't some brawler who picked fights for no reason.
As he liked to say, Dudley hated trouble.
As long as no one crossed his bottom line, he was usually quite… polite and easygoing.
Of course, those boys in sports uniforms weren't students from St. George. They were about to graduate from the boxing team of Smelting Secondary School next door.
"Boring. Just a bunch of nerds," Dudley replied, stuffing an entire hot dog into his mouth and chewing without restraint.
When the system notification sounded in his mind — 'Consumed one whole hot dog: Experience +1' — his mood instantly improved.
Aside from the occasional missions, the Mage Growth System generated energy through food intake. Using experience points, Dudley could unlock various everyday skills.
Naturally, none of them had anything to do with magic. According to the system, they were simply practical life skills.
For example: English, mathematics, physics, chemistry, firearms, boxing, archery…
This so-called Mage Growth System was incredibly stingy when it came to anything related to magic, yet surprisingly generous in every other aspect.
In the end, all he had to do was eat.
And that was exactly why Dudley earned the nickname "Food Protector."
Messing with his food was the same as declaring war.
"I heard the students there are all geniuses. Didn't our Mr. Dudley feel intimidated at all?"
"Geniuses? Nothing special. Other than memorizing books, they don't have much going for them," Dudley said, waving his hand before grabbing a bottle of "happy water" and chugging it down in one go.
'Consumed one whole bottle of happy water: Experience +1'
Thinking back on his time as an exchange student at Oxford Dragon Primary School, Dudley couldn't help but laugh.
He had given those nerds a proper lesson — both academically and athletically.
Whenever he remembered the crying faces of those kids running back with snot bubbles forming, Dudley found it endlessly amusing.
Oxford Dragon Primary School was located in Oxfordshire. It was a co-ed private school that advertised itself as a "preparatory school for the University of Oxford."
As everyone knew, "preparatory" usually meant… well, best not to say too much.
In truth, with Dudley's grades and abilities, he shouldn't have been studying at St. George at all. The reason the Dursley family sent both Dudley and Harry there was simple: it was a public school.
And public school meant low tuition.
After all, the Dursleys weren't just paying for Dudley's education — they also had to pay for Harry's.
You could tell just by looking at their clothes.
Harry wore Dudley's old school uniforms, while Dudley, although dressed in new clothes, wore fabrics of fairly average quality.
Combined with Dudley's enormous appetite, life for the family was even tighter.
In fact, early on, the Dursleys weren't as financially comfortable as they appeared in the movies. When Harry was in primary school, the family lived quite modestly — a situation that only began to improve two months ago.
That was when Vernon Dursley, with the help of his sister Marge, landed a job at Grunnings and successfully closed a major drill contract.
Only then did the family's finances start to improve.
They were now discussing the possibility of transferring Dudley to another school — which was why he had gone as an exchange student in the first place.
Even so, Dudley didn't want to change schools.
The main reason was simple: Harry wouldn't be there.
Without Harry nearby, Dudley would have no one to "farm benefits" from.
Besides, with the high costs of private schools, the Dursley family could never afford to send both Dudley and Harry together.
And even if they could, they wouldn't let Harry attend.
Both Petunia and Vernon Dursley weren't particularly fond of Harry.
As for why… that was a long story.
After swallowing the last bite of food, Dudley saw Harry walking out of the building with his schoolbag. He then turned to his friends from the Smelting boxing team.
"It's been a while since I stretched my muscles. Want to spar a bit?"
"…"
After an awkward silence, the boys exchanged glances and immediately began making excuses.
"I've got something to do today."
"My mom told me to come home early."
"I forgot to lock my door."
In the end, only Dudley remained.
Precisely because they were close to him, those boys understood just how terrifying Dudley could be. Sparring with him was nothing short of self-inflicted suffering.
Dudley clicked his tongue in boredom.
"So lame."
With light steps, he walked over to his beloved little cousin Harry, casually wrapped an arm around his neck, and said affectionately,
"Come on. Time to go home."
Only after watching the two figures walk away and disappear at the end of the street did the students of St. George finally let out the breath they had been holding.
"Oh my God… poor Harry. He's going to get bullied again by that evil cousin."
"So are you going to save him?"
"Are you crazy? You want me to die?"
That was how rumors were born.
When in reality, Dudley and Harry had a very good relationship.
Well… at least Dudley thought so.
They lived at Number 4, Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. It was about a twenty-minute walk from the school.
Noticing Harry walking in silence, Dudley broke the mood by pulling a few crumpled bills from his pocket.
"Harry, this is the eight pounds and fifty cents left over from fixing your glasses. I don't think it's safe for you to hold onto it, so I'll keep it for you. It'll come in handy when you get married someday."
"Okay, Big D."
Harry had heard that line so many times his ears were practically growing calluses.
Satisfied, Dudley tucked the money back into his pocket.
At that moment, Dudley had truly become a miser.
Not that he was actually stingy — he kept meticulous records of every cent Harry entrusted to him. The real issue was that Dudley needed to constantly consume food to maintain the system's energy supply.
Fortunately, most of the food he ate turned into muscle.
Otherwise, with that appetite, he would have long since become "Round Dudley."
Pushing open the door of the two-story house, Dudley's extremely sensitive sense of smell caught the aroma of dinner, instantly igniting his appetite.
It was said that the thinnest four books in the world were: American history, German jokes, Italian war heroes, and English cookbooks.
Indeed, British cuisine didn't have many memorable dishes. Aside from the classic fish and chips, there was very little worth mentioning.
But no one said that English people had to cook only English food.
Petunia Dursley was good at German cuisine — and the crispy pork knuckle she made was genuinely delicious.
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