A Howler for Leon

After joining the Slytherin team, George's days gradually began to settle down.

His daily routine was scoring points, studying and researching magic, sweeping through books in the library to deepen his understanding of magic, and chasing after the teachers of each class to ask them questions about magic.

As for Quidditch training, because of his superb skill, Snape gave him special permission to attend less often.

As time passed, his store of magical knowledge and his level of magic also grew rapidly. He had more or less mastered the First Year charms and had begun studying Second Year material in advance.

More than two months passed in the blink of an eye. Time slowly reached October, and the weather began to turn cold. Many young wizards even caught colds because of it.

Fortunately, the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, had made a Pepperup Potion. After drinking it, smoke would pour from one's ears for several hours in a row, but the effects were immediate, and it could easily cure a cold.

George sat by the window in the library, quietly reading a book. Outside the window, a sparse drizzle was falling, and inside the library, young witches would occasionally lift their heads and secretly glance at him.

After several months of Hogwarts's plentiful meals, he was no longer the thin, frail boy he had been before.

"It's time. You may all go back now."

The gaunt, elderly librarian, Madam Pince, stood up and spoke to all the young wizards still reading in the library.

George checked the time. It was already eight o'clock in the evening, the time when the library was about to close.

He took the book he had not finished reading, checked it out, and left the library, planning to return to the Slytherin Common Room to continue reading.

At the same time, in the Marvel Universe, it was eight o'clock in the morning. George's main body had already ridden a motorcycle toward the Bronx.

Tony Stark had been kidnapped for almost three months. He would probably escape back soon. As for Leon, over these three months, he had completely turned the Chebel family into the Leon family.

So the previous plan also had to start being prepared.

Actually, because of changing vehicles earlier and the cost of food over these past few months, Gabriella and Wolverine's savings were already almost gone. He truly did need to make money, and the children urgently needed to go to school as well.

These laboratory children had been raised from a young age to become killers. They had never received a normal education at all and were also seriously lacking in common sense.

Gabriella was only an ordinary nurse with limited education. Isabelle was a driver and did not have much schooling either; she was still working hard to learn how to fly a plane. Wolverine could teach combat and history well enough, but in other areas, he was not much good either.

Calliban had originally started doing black-market business with his ability precisely because he had no education.

The most well-rounded one was Professor X. He had graduated from Harvard University at sixteen, had also attended Oxford University and Columbia University, and had earned multiple doctoral degrees in biology, psychology, and other fields.

But his health was poor, and he had to take medicine often. Most of the time, he also stayed in Cerebro to keep himself from suddenly going mad.

On the rooftop of the dance hall in the Bronx from before, George took out an ordinary letter and placed it on the ground. Then his hands moved quickly as he began casting spells. After the magical imprint was branded onto the envelope, he picked up the envelope and recorded what he wanted to say.

That was right. At this moment, he was making a Howler.

He had not spent every day soaking in the library for nothing. Besides learning magic, he had also spent time studying some alchemy—in other words, how to make magical objects.

Naturally, it was impossible for him to master high-difficulty magical objects like wands, Flying Broomsticks, Magical Cars, and Portkeys so quickly, but a simple thing like a Howler was very easy to get the hang of.

After making the Howler, he pinned a brooch onto it, then waited quietly on the rooftop.

About half an hour later, Leon, full of triumph and with a cigar in his mouth, walked out of the dance hall with a group of underlings and got into the stretched Lincoln parked at the entrance.

At that moment, George also activated his ability to control the brooch. It carried the Howler as it flew out from the rooftop and slipped inside just as the car door was about to close.

During this period, he had thought it over carefully. When dealing with someone like Leon, who moved in the underworld, it was better to be cautious—at least until his strength had reached the point where he could ignore modern firearms.

So, if possible, he should avoid too frequent contact as much as he could and preserve a sense of mystery as much as possible.

The unknown was usually the most terrifying.

That way, even if Leon encountered a threat in the future, as long as it was not a fatal threat, he probably would not dare betray him.

Because in Leon's eyes, he was too mysterious. Once Leon betrayed him, he would have no idea what terrifying revenge he would face. That made it safer.

"A letter?"

Leon was just about to close the door when he suddenly discovered a letter squeezing in through the gap and landing on his lap. He was rather bewildered.

But the instant he saw the name on the envelope, his pupils constricted. He quickly opened the door and stuck his head out to look outside.

"Sir, what's wrong?"

The underling in charge of driving asked in confusion.

Leon turned his head and looked around, only to find that all around him were his own underlings and there was no one else at all. He took a deep breath, sat back in the car, and ordered:

"It's nothing. Get out and wait for me first. I want to sit quietly in the car alone for a while."

Although the driving underling did not understand what was going on, he still obediently got out of the car.

Leon picked up the letter in his hand. There was only one word on the envelope, and that was "Shinigami"!

More than two months ago, when he had nearly been killed, a Mysterious Person called "Shinigami" had saved him.

Now, he had finally swept away all obstacles, including the remnants led by Chebel's son, Little Chebel, and had completely turned the Chebel family into the Leon family.

He had also become one of the thirteen most powerful figures in the Bronx underworld.

But that "Shinigami" had never appeared again, and this had become a knot in his heart.

On one hand, he was truly grateful for the man's life-saving grace and wanted to repay him. On the other hand, deep down, he was also extremely wary—wary of such a mysterious fellow who could casually kill Chebel.

Because that meant that if the other party wanted to kill him, it seemed it would be just as simple.

This was also one of the reasons why he always brought a group of underlings with him whenever he went out.

People were like that. When they were underlings, they did not think so much, and they were not that afraid of death.

But after he became the boss, after he became the man standing high above everyone else, he had instead started thinking too much, and started fearing death.

He picked up the envelope and carefully opened it, but what puzzled him was that the inside was completely empty. There was no letter.

Only the next second, his mouth fell open in astonishment, and he froze on the spot.

Because the envelope had suddenly flown out of his hand, floated in the air, and turned into a mouth that began to speak:

"Leon, tonight at twelve, come to the Rooftop alone and wait for me."

After speaking, that mouth bit itself into a pile of fragments and fell.

A full ten seconds passed before Leon came back to his senses. Then he took a deep breath and murmured:

"Just what kind of existence is this gentleman?

Could he be a god, or truly a demon from hell?"

At that moment, he remembered the wish he had made on the Rooftop just before he died, and could not help shivering.