The Innate Death-Seeking Holy Body!

"What's wrong, Roger? Why are you sighing away over here?" Tom walked up to Roger's table and handed him a glass of juice.

Roger hadn't ordered it. Tom from The Leaky Cauldron had sent it over.

At first, the pub owner had thought Roger looked like trouble and had been somewhat reluctant to rent him a room. But seeing that Roger was only eleven, homeless, and so young, he had ultimately softened his heart.

And after spending time with him these past days, the owner had come to feel that many people misunderstood Roger.

He wasn't some dangerous person who killed whenever he was unhappy, or who was unhappy unless he killed, as some people claimed. He was quite a gentle, helpful boy.

As for what happened on the battlefield, if you didn't kill others, they would come to kill you. What was there to say about that?

The two got along fairly well now. At the very least, they were friendly.

"It's nothing. I was just feeling a little sentimental. Becoming a powerful wizard is really hard." Roger sighed, somewhat lost over which path to take.

Faced with three paths leading to the heavens, Roger's choices were actually quite limited.

If he were a Seer like Grindelwald, he would have had a good chance of achieving immortality through the Ritual Path. The External Object Path, with alchemy and potions, would not have been impossible either.

But he wasn't.

Roger's prophetic ability couldn't actually predict a future unrelated to himself, nor could it see very far ahead. His judgment of the future situation in the Middle East had come from memories of his previous life and intelligence analysis.

His true prophetic ability could only warn him of dangers related to himself.

Therefore, the path most suitable for Roger...

Was the Modification Path.

Self-modification, stepping onto the path of evolution—this path's potential was not low.

The main reason wizards in this world had failed to complete it was that magical experiments were too dangerous. Every year, a considerable number of wizards ended up at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries because of magical experiments. Some did not even need to go to the hospital—they simply turned to ash on the spot.

Take Luna of Ravenclaw, for example. Her mother had accidentally died while experimenting with spells.

The wizarding world had never lacked people brave enough to innovate. It was just that they either became trapped by the limitations of their own understanding, unable to free themselves, or lacked the talent needed to overcome the difficulties.

This was especially true in this field.

Just as the advancement of modern medicine had been built upon countless sacrifices and selfless contributions.

Research into the mysteries of life required a large number of test subjects.

The wizarding population was simply too small. They could not withstand trial and error through brute-force experimentation.

Use Muggles? Leaving aside the legal issues.

Wizards were not yet prepared to wage an all-out war against Muggle human society! As for other creatures, magic was something easily affected by the mind. A modification that worked on a white mouse—what would happen if it were used on a wizard? Only heaven knew.

But Roger was different. He was a Seer capable of sensing dangers related to himself.

When it came to magical experiments, Roger possessed an Innate Death-Seeking Holy Body! But...

Roger could not guarantee that his prophecy would work every single time.

What if he got careless once and forgot to activate his prophetic ability? Wouldn't he blow himself up instantly?!

This was an extremely dangerous road.

But Roger couldn't think of any better ideas.

Mr. Borgin merely smiled and shook his head at Roger's sigh. "The road to growth is always winding. Isn't that perfectly normal? Otherwise, everyone could become a great wizard like Dumbledore."

"That's true." Roger nodded.

Without much hesitation, Roger had already made his choice.

With his ability as a Seer, it would not be difficult for him to become a prominent figure in the wizarding world, but he would never be satisfied with that alone.

Just as someone capable of earning twenty million dollars would never be satisfied merely because of those twenty million dollars.

Since he had a chance to transcend the mundane, then even if the road ahead was a perilous cliff with no path forward, Roger would risk his life to make a try for that unknown possibility! Just as he had once said, he would fight forever, until the moment of his death!

He drained the juice in one gulp, thanked the owner, then turned and headed upstairs.

The terrifying rumors surrounding Roger Virgil were still spreading. Rumors stopped with the wise, but wise people were always few.

Roger felt that spending too long downstairs might, might affect the pub's business, so he hurried upstairs after every meal... If the room Roger rented had not been so small that there was barely enough space for anything besides a bed and books, let alone a place to eat, Roger would not even have chosen to dine downstairs.

Since others had helped him, then unless necessary, it was best not to cause them trouble.

But what Roger considered only natural was not seen that way by others.

"Roger." Mr. Borgin called after him.

"What is it, Uncle Borgin?"

"You spend every day reading and reading. It's been so long already—do you want to go out for a walk?" Mr. Borgin asked kindly. Roger was always shut in his room and never went out, and the owner was a little worried about his mental state.

Roger declined his suggestion. "No, time is precious. School starts in just a few days, and I still have a lot of books to read."

Although he had decided to follow the Modification Path.

Roger still had not decided whether to pursue bloodline modification, transfiguration modification, or soul modification.

He could not make this choice lightly. His lifespan was limited; he had to achieve immortality before it ran out.

He planned to gain a sufficient understanding of all three systems before choosing the one most suited to him.

Some things could not afford to waste time, but for others, haste made waste. Roger knew how to weigh the priorities.

For matters involving cutting-edge magical knowledge like this, Roger planned to seek advice from Professor McGonagall, and even from Hogwarts' exceptionally accomplished professors in every field, before making a decision.

This year, Voldemort would also secretly infiltrate Hogwarts as a professor. He wondered whether he would have a chance to glean some knowledge about soul modification from him...

After refusing the owner, Roger continued upstairs. But after taking only two steps, he suddenly remembered something.

Not long after getting off the plane, he had been arrested by the British Ministry of Magic. After that had come the trial and preparations for the funeral.

Then, after buying his wand and other items, Professor McGonagall had lent him books. His schedule had been packed.

As a result, he had nearly forgotten something that was, to a certain extent, rather important! Roger turned back from the stairs, returned to the pub's main hall, and approached Mr. Borgin. "Uncle Borgin, I'd like to ask you about a place."

"Do you know how to get to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries?"

"Hm?" Mr. Borgin froze.

"You're injured?" He looked Roger up and down.

It didn't look like it.

Roger hesitated before saying, "More or less. I have a small problem. A Muggle hospital can't really deal with it, so I think a magical hospital should be able to solve it."