"What's wrong, Carrel?"
Vid saw his face pale and expression strange, and couldn't help but ask.
"No... it's nothing..."
Carrel's body seemed to be trembling slightly; Vid frowned and reached out to touch his forehead.
Cold to the touch, lacking even a normal human's body temperature.
This seemed to remind him—they were already of a different species.
Carrel was momentarily stunned by his action, and when he looked up, he tightly gripped Vid's arm.
Vid: "…?"
Carrel forced a smile, released his hand, and said, "Today seems a bit cold, let's go to the Three Broomsticks for some Butter Beer."
Vid naturally agreed, as he was heading there anyway.
The small inn was smoke-filled and very warm; the aroma of wine and food permeated the place, making people feel instantly warm.
The bar was filled with Hogwarts students, Michael and others were sitting together, Vid and Carrel made their way through the crowd toward them, greeted with smiles welcoming them to join.
In the corner of the bar, a man in a gray Wizard Robe sat. He secretly observed those kids and slowly revealed a satisfied smile.
On the table before him was a piece of parchment and a Quill.
At this moment, the Quill jumped up automatically, leaving line after line of text on the paper.
[Successfully integrated... Harmonious interaction... The plan is proceeding very smoothly...]
…
"Everything is going well."
The tattooed man put down the Friendship Book and said calmly.
"It's good that it's going well."
The slightly plump woman clasped her hands on her chest and said with relief, "Carrel's a stubborn child; I was always worried he'd deliberately cause trouble and disrupt the task—but fortunately, he didn't."
"It seems your method is indeed effective."
The tattooed man turned to her and said, "For this kind of child, ideals and beliefs don't mean much to him; money and beauty don't attract him, only family ties can clutch his throat."
The woman smiled smugly, "No wonder I spent such a long time learning cooking-though it's hard to comprehend why British food is so unpalatable, yet Carrel still likes it. Did you see-he was so moved he almost cried!"
She originally had a gentle and kind appearance, but with such a smile, her whole face twisted.
The person beside her couldn't bear it either, she turned and asked, "Maye, what's so special about Carrel? At his age, he should still be in the training camp."
"He was Vid Gray's childhood friend and also your helper."
The tattooed man—Maye Baird said, "But he only knows there are companions at the school, he doesn't know your identity, so don't worry about him exposing you, Serra."
The third person sitting in the room was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—Serra Abigail.
Even though Byrd said this, Abigail was still displeased and said angrily:
"I've said it before, I don't need more hands! And I'm about to get Vid's custom-made Poppet—a large Poppet made using Magical Creatures as a prototype! Do you understand what this means?"
"I know, I can understand." Byrd patiently said, "But the mission requirements have changed, Serra—the Poppet is no longer the most important, the most important is Vid Gray."
"What?!" Abigail frowned and said, "There are so many Alchemists in the world, why choose him? He's under Dumbledore's watchful eye, Aslan Magic Workshop and Terence Moray are not easy to deal with either..."
"I'm of course aware of the danger of this, Serra, I'm also one of the task executors, Dumbledore might be less than a thousand meters away from me right now."
Byrd said helplessly:
"But the Alchemists we invited back all said, the Poppet seems like a larger version of Wizard's Chess, yet its craftsmanship is unprecedented, the creator possesses an exceptionally outstanding, unimaginable level of Alchemy."
"If they want to replicate a complete version of the Poppet for mass production, they must have the complete design—Serra, can you manage to get the Poppet's design from Gray?"
Abigail shook her head with a grim expression.
Byrd said, "See, that's it, Alchemists are naturally aware of copyright, they protect their inventions tightly."
"More importantly, Vid Gray is a young, extremely talented Alchemist."
"Things he creates, other Alchemists can't even replicate; so isn't it possible that he can carry out Alchemy that others can't?"
Abigail's expression shifted: "You mean..."
"Of course, it's the magic stone that grants immortality!!" Byrd said with a hint of excitement, "Over a thousand years, the only one who accomplished this feat was Nicolas Flamel! Other Alchemists are at a loss with the Philosopher's Stone."
"But even for Nicolas Flamel, what he created was only a semi-finished product—the Philosopher's Stone could make him live forever but not stay young!"
"So do you understand? Compared to those thinkers who are rigid and only follow books, Vid Gray is such a delightful gift to the leader! He is very likely to create the true Philosopher's Stone!"
"Even if he only makes a semi-finished product like Nicolas Flamel, it could still extend a person's short lifespan to 600-700 years."
"With such a lengthy time, along with the organization's funding, the true Elixir of Life is just around the corner!"
Abigail trembled all over, fully understanding now.
She vaguely knew, the upper echelons of the organization don't actually pursue powerful magic; their goal remains unchanged—a healthier, longer, more youthful life, preferably one without end.
Werewolves, Vampires, Wizards, Magical Creatures, they've all been sacrifices on the path of exploration.
But all these paths are necessarily limited in lifespan, not to mention the enormous risks during transformation, and even after transformation, there aren't many benefits.
In comparison, the road of the Philosopher's Stone is so alluring!
—Turning stone into gold, immortality.
The greatest desire of ordinary people, a small stone can fulfill.
Actually, the leader's most desired Alchemist was Nicolas Flamel, but later he was heard to have destroyed that world's unique stone to prevent Voldemort from obtaining it, and is now dead.
They can only shift focus to other Alchemists.
But the task of crafting a Philosopher's Stone, not only does it require huge expenses, failure is the norm, success is merely an accidental culmination of wisdom, skill, courage, and luck.
Faced with repeated failures, money flows like water, yielding nothing in the end, who could stand it?
Yet the leader can't even blame those failing Alchemists—only one person succeeded in over the millennium, isn't it reasonable these people failed too?
They can't even determine whether such failure is unavoidable or intentional by the Alchemist.