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[HP] 99: Good Thing I Don’t Rely on Magic to Make a Living
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 17:13:51 +0000 UTCHalloween passed quickly, and the pumpkin clown reverted to an ordinary doll after the black Qi magic’s effect expired.
Aside from the Slytherin boys, everyone else expressed regret over it.
Louis, however, looked completely indifferent. He had only modified the surprise box out of a “waste not, want not” mindset. In the process, he’d also raked in quite a few Trick Points—definitely a profitable venture.
The dull school life went on.
For others, attending classes was like sailing through a sea of knowledge under the guidance of teachers. For Louis, it was like taking a spaceship straight to the finish line without even touching the water.
That didn’t mean he didn’t have to study at all, though.
Every evening, Louis would go to the Room of Requirement to learn.
Normally, he split the first half of the night into two parts—first part spent learning alchemy with Hermes, and the second experimenting with using black Qi magic to break down the protective shells on his talismans.
This arrangement had been in place since the day Hermes was awakened, and Hermes treasured this time—it was his rare chance to “get some fresh air.”
“I say, Louis, can’t we negotiate for more time out here? It’s not like you study with me during the day, so why keep me locked in that sunless place?” Hermes floated beside him, complaining.
“No. That’s not part of our deal,” Louis replied mercilessly.
He was currently using black Qi to corrode the talisman shells, and it was working well. Most of the shells had already cracked, though not completely—they still clung together in a sticky mess.
The only ones that hadn’t split yet were the Rat, Tiger, and Sheep talismans. Perhaps once those three broke, more changes would follow.
“You rejected me way too fast,” Hermes sighed, looking like a salted fish whose dreams had been crushed.
“If you’re bored, I can let Hastur keep you company,” Louis said, glancing at the creature curled up and napping on the couch cushion in the corner.
Although the cat-like creature and Fafnir the owl usually behaved when Louis was around, they always ended up fighting in his absence—and the outcome was often Fafnir screaming as Hastur swallowed him whole.
Luckily, Louis always arrived in time to save the owl from a digestive fate. For Fafnir’s safety, he had no choice but to take Hastur with him whenever he left the dorm.
“No thanks. That thing you keep freaks me out,” Hermes quickly refused.
He still couldn’t believe that something that looked, sounded, and even felt like a cat was not a cat at all, but a monster called a “Devourer Beast” that could open its mouth into a mess of tentacles and eldritch jaws. No wonder Louis named it Hastur.
“That beast is actually a lot like you,” Hermes muttered. “Looks harmless on the outside, but who knows what horror’s hiding under the surface.”
Louis ignored him.
After a while, Hermes floated up again and said, “By the way, I’ve taught you plenty recently. Don’t you think it’s about time you made something tangible? Theory alone won’t cut it.”
In the past days, Hermes had not only taught Louis a wealth of alchemy knowledge, but had also designed a unique alchemical method tailored to Louis’s black Qi magic.
It could be said he had gone above and beyond.
In theory, Louis had already graduated.
Hermes was eager to rid himself of this strange mortal who was “black through and through” and start his own life anew.
Louis nodded. “You’re right. I really should make something.”
He had indeed neglected practicing magic tricks lately—rarely even bothering to trick people. Most of what he’d learned was stored away like untested theory, never put into practice.
Perhaps it was time for a change of pace—like making some fun props for performing magic.
But what kind of prop would be suitable?
His first thought was his top hat. But after all the handmade modifications he’d done to turn it into a collapsible hat, it clearly wasn’t suited for crafting a precise and stable magical tool.
Hmm… a magician’s cloth might be a pretty good idea.
A magician’s cloth, a cane, and a top hat—these are the reliable companions and staple tools of a traditional magician.
The magician’s cloth works much like the top hat, serving as a distraction to misdirect the audience’s gaze and aid in completing the trick.
These are the basics of the trade. Experienced magicians will employ even more clever ways to divert people’s attention.
Take Louis’s father, Mr. Wilson, for example—he preferred to use dazzling stage lights as his cover, so most of his performances were elaborate, glamorous stage shows.
In essence, those flashy lights and a magician’s cloth are the same type of tool.
Either way, as one of the most classic magician’s props, making a magic-infused magician’s cloth for himself was a brilliant idea.
And besides…
Louis’s gaze unconsciously drifted toward the dozing Hermes nearby.
He’d learned enough theory by now—it was about time to consider how to restore Hermes to his original form.
Directly stripping away the Rat Talisman’s power felt a bit too heartless.
After all, Hermes was at least half his teacher (literally, since he was only a head), and deserved a certain level of respect.
Crack.
A fracture appeared on the Sheep Talisman within Louis’s body, its power loosening slightly.
It was as if the talismans were triggering a chain reaction—cracks deepened on the others as well.
Today’s work had been quite fruitful.
Louis stood, snapped his fingers, and the Volumen Hydrargyrum immediately wrapped itself around the dazed Hermes.
“Don’t worry. Once I complete my first alchemy tool, I’ll go get your body back.”
Louis’s voice slipped through a gap in the Volumen Hydrargyrum, reaching Hermes’s ears.
“That’s fine, but hurry up—I’m going stir-crazy in here!” Hermes shouted from inside the silvery liquid.
“Relax,” Louis replied, sealing the Volumen Hydrargyrum completely.
With Hermes stored away, Louis looked up and called to the now-awake Hastur. “Hastur, we’re going.”
“Meow!”
Hastur answered, leaping onto Louis’s shoulder in one bound. On the way up, he casually pressed a paw against Louis’s face—more like a gentle kick in passing.
Hastur had discovered something—if he didn’t give Louis a kick at least once a day, he felt unsettled.
If he did it suddenly, Louis might just grab him and spin him around like a windmill for three full rotations.
So, Hastur figured it was wiser to give a light, harmless kick right in front of Louis—call it feline wisdom.
Louis’s mouth twitched.
He was starting to realize this Merlin-template curse was truly insidious—not particularly harmful, but impossible to ignore.
Now, whenever he attended a spellcasting class, his incantations came out crisp and overly precise, as if afraid that speaking too quickly might make him bite his own tongue.
“Good thing I don’t rely on magic to make a living—otherwise, how would I survive?” Louis muttered, scratching Hastur under the chin as he left the Room of Requirement.
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