Offending the Headmaster and Still Trying to Run?

Sorry, I drank too much last night and my logic was a mess. Today I realized that Rita Skeeter theoretically had no conflict with Kayson, so having Kayson directly go after her like some real-life vigilante made that reason too far-fetched. So I changed the reason. I revised about three hundred words in Chapter 41; everyone can go back and pick up the story again.

Kayson's mouth twitched. "I never should have asked you that. Actually, Dumbledore, you're a very magnanimous person in my eyes, you know? In my heart, you're as towering as Mount Everest and as sweet as the Alps."

Dumbledore warmly patted Kayson's shoulder. "Exactly, Kayson. You're the same. In my heart, you're as warm as the sun, selflessly shining upon everything at Hogwarts, caring for the students, uniting the professors, and also..."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Kayson held up a hand in a stopping gesture.

"No matter what you say, I won't go..."

"Didn't you want to turn your office into a standalone tower?"

"...You agree?"

Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the ceiling at a forty-five-degree angle.

"If that Rita Skeeter were to have an accident—say, a thug suddenly broke into her home and beat her up."

"I need her address."

"What address?" Dumbledore instantly began playing dumb.

"...Fine." Kayson rolled his eyes and decided to ask someone else.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore revealed that uniquely devious old-man smile of his.

Offending the headmaster and still trying to run? Heh heh heh!

After being cyberbullied by that reporter for so long, one reason he had not acted was that one move from him would affect everything, so he truly could not go after her in person.

The second was that the Hogwarts professors and his friends outside Hogwarts all knew what kind of person he was, and he could not be bothered with a childish revenge plan?

But now, at long last, there was Kayson—powerful, simple-minded, and most importantly, unfamiliar with his character. Heh heh heh!

Knock, knock, knock...

"Come in."

"..."

Professor McGonagall looked at Kayson in complete confusion until she spotted the newspaper in his hand and suddenly understood.

"You don't need to get involved in this. Dumbledore has already gone to the Ministry of Magic to negotiate with Fudge and Skeeter. There should be results soon."

"What did he negotiate? He was chatting with me in the corridor just now."

"Huh? Um... did he tell you to find Skeeter?"

"No. He absolutely did not."

"..." Stare...

"Fine, Dumbledore promised I could turn my office into a standalone tower," Kayson confessed.

"...All right. No one could refuse that."

"How do you want to resolve this?"

"Beat her up in person?"

"I knew it." Professor McGonagall was somewhat speechless.

"I need her home address." After saying that, Kayson looked at Professor McGonagall expectantly, making her feel strangely uneasy.

However, she quickly composed herself and pressed her lips together. "Theoretically, I shouldn't do this, and I genuinely don't know where she lives."

"What about in practice?"

"In practice, you can write Rita Skeeter a letter. Those owls have been enchanted with name magic. When they cannot find the recipient's address, they will follow the name magic's guidance to her home."

"Also, only the public owls in the owlery have this kind of name magic."

"Oh, got it, got it."

Kayson returned to his office, took out a piece of parchment, thought for a long time, then wrote: I'll deal with you in person within three seconds. He also took out an Ender Pearl and set up a small mechanism so that the Ender Pearl would shatter as soon as the envelope was opened.

"Heh heh heh heh heh..."

After sending a public owl off with the letter, Kayson stood in his office with his arms folded, sulking until evening. When he felt the time was about right, he picked up a baseball bat from the corner of his office.

This was a treasure the Weasley brothers had created while messing around before. Every time it hit someone, it exploded—hit once, explode once; hit once, explode once.

He had confiscated it because he thought it was too dangerous. He had not expected to actually use it today.

Meanwhile, Rita Skeeter had spent the day writing little essays at the Daily Prophet. When she returned home, she also collected the mail from her mailbox.

But one of the letters struck her as strange. There was a spherical object inside. After a moment of silence, she skillfully dragged a huge blast-proof barrel out from the corner. It was taller than a person and had a small pane of blast-proof glass set into it.

Using magic to control the letter, she placed it inside. The moment she tore open the envelope, Kayson appeared inside the blast-proof barrel.

Rita Skeeter then walked over with a smile on her face and her arms folded.

She removed her lace gloves and slapped the blast-proof glass twice.

"You thought I wouldn't expect someone to come after me? Using such a lowly reverse Portkey?"

"You think..."

"You think I can't get out?" Kayson, standing inside the blast-proof barrel, merely tapped lightly on its inner wall. With two knocks, he made a two-by-one opening.

He swung the baseball bat in his hand, producing a series of sharp popping explosions.

After Kayson's friendly exchange, Rita Skeeter, bruised and battered, was dragged out of her home. A diamond shovel appeared in Kayson's hand, and once he dragged her to a small grove nearby, he began digging a hole.

Before long, Kayson had dug a deep two-by-one-by-two pit.

"Dear Ms. Reporter, I trust you'll enjoy your new home." Kayson grabbed Rita Skeeter by her robes and tossed her directly inside, then began filling in the dirt.

The soil was loose as hell and breathable too. Combined with a wizard's strong vitality, she would crawl out herself when she woke up tomorrow morning.

Of course, that was as long as it did not rain. But Christmas was already over—where would he get rain for her? That would be ridiculous.

He dusted off his hands and leisurely prepared to leave. Once he returned to Hogwarts and arrived at Dumbledore's Headmaster's Office, he intended to tell him that he had successfully dealt with Rita Skeeter in person.

Then he saw torrential rain suddenly pouring down outside the window.

"It's already late December! Where the hell did this rain come from in England?!" Kayson let out a piercing shriek and vanished from the spot amid a roar and purple sparks.

After all, Rita Skeeter had only mouthed off in the newspaper. Though she was not a good person, she did not deserve to die.

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