Join If You Can't Beat Them

"Many people think I'm incomprehensible. That's normal. Given their lifespans, it's hard for them to live long enough to see the world turned upside down. Naturally, they can leave everything to 'the wisdom of future generations.'"

As the two approached the library, the flow of people around them began to increase. Voldemort looked at the young wizards around them with a faintly mocking gaze.

"But you're different, Roger." Voldemort's tone held a hint of amusement.

"You are also a practitioner on the path to Eternal Life. You will live for a very long time."

"Your strength is advancing by leaps and bounds every day now, but one day, you too will encounter that barrier of talent. When your magic can no longer advance an inch while Muggle technology develops at breakneck speed, you'll understand how I feel when you see it."

Roger found Voldemort's words baffling. "Why worry about something like that?"

"If you can't beat them, join them."

"Hm?" Voldemort froze for a moment.

"If one day technology really catches up to magic, while my magic can no longer improve, then I'll just join them."

"If that trend really emerges, as someone who lives forever, I can just make arrangements in advance and infiltrate the upper ranks of the Muggle world." In Roger's memories, there had been far too many great mages who had thrived within the technology faction.

"But..."

Roger cut Voldemort off. "Don't think wizards are inherently superior. If technology really becomes that powerful, who's superior to whom? And don't think you'll be ostracized for being different. Aren't you curious how Muggles awaken into young wizards? Figure that out and spread it across the world—then wouldn't everyone be the same?"

As he spoke, Roger snapped his fingers again, dispelling the sound-barrier spell, and entered the Hogwarts Library ahead of him.

Behind him, Voldemort remained where he was, murmuring softly, "...If you can't beat them, join them?"

Roger's words had awakened him from his dream.

Voldemort's ambition was to gain limitless power alongside limitless life.

If it was difficult to strike back at Muggles from the fundamental standpoint of wizards—

Then if I became one of the Muggles' upper ranks and spent several centuries developing, before turning around and crushing the wizards, wouldn't that also be a path to becoming the king of the world?

Uh...

Without paying any attention to Voldemort, who was deeply conflicted because he could not get past certain ingrained beliefs, Roger entered the library and pondered his future while selecting books.

Although Roger had nothing but contempt for many of Voldemort's actions, this conversation with him had still stirred something within Roger.

The limits of talent.

The problem Voldemort had encountered would one day become his own problem as well.

The Second Brain had enhanced his talent, but not to an inhuman degree.

Moreover, the limits of a wizard's power were also something he needed to consider.

Although Roger believed that, with his danger sense, he might be able to travel very far down the Modification Path of bodily enhancement—

Still.

The idea that a stronger body would nurture a more complete soul, and that a stronger soul would make Mental Power stronger, was merely a theoretical conjecture made by ancient wizards when they constructed the Modification Path.

Could this path have limits as well?

Would he ultimately end up like the bloodline wizards of current Magical Creatures—only somewhat stronger, yet still unable to make a wizard truly become a god?

Rituals, modification, external objects—the things he had once read about in books drifted through Roger's mind once again.

After a long while, a thought abruptly surfaced.

"The paths of those before me may not necessarily be the paths best suited to me."

"Once the issue of immortality is resolved."

"Perhaps I should try to find a path that truly belongs entirely to me."

Walking through a courtyard in Hogwarts Castle, Roger suddenly felt a slight chill on the tip of his nose. Looking up, he saw goose-feather snowflakes drifting down, though he had no idea when they had begun to fall.

Unlike the light snow of a few days ago, this heavy snowfall thoroughly announced winter's arrival.

By temperature standards, winter in the United Kingdom lasted from December to February of the following year.

"What's wrong? Why are you standing there so blankly?" A pleasant voice came from behind him.

When he turned his head, he saw that all his classmates were standing there—not just Hermione, who had spoken.

Harry, Ron, Neville, and the other young wizards of Gryffindor were there, as were Draco and the young wizards of Slytherin.

The two houses had just finished a class together and were now crossing the courtyard, hurrying toward their next classroom.

Roger had stopped midway, and for some reason, everyone else had stopped as well. They looked curiously at Roger, who was rarely ever lost in thought.

"It's nothing." Roger waved a hand.

"I just suddenly realized that Christmas is only a little over twenty days away."

"Christmas..." The eyes of quite a few young wizards lit up at the mention of it.

Because every Christmas, they received gifts.

Some of the young wizards had already begun thinking about what gifts to give others.

The young wizards around him were brimming with excitement, but Roger felt no anticipation at all.

It wasn't that he had anything against Christmas.

It was just that this year's Christmas was a little different.

This was 1991.

December 25th, Christmas... sigh.

He wondered what impact the fall of the Red Giant would have on this magical world, and whether it would differ from his previous life.

Of course, the thought only flashed through his mind and did not linger for long. No matter what the consequences might be, he had no ability to interfere right now. Learning magic properly was what mattered most.

After that, Roger continued with his usual routine: classes, breaks, the library, the laboratory, then back to the dormitory near curfew.

Just when he thought another peaceful day was about to end like that...

"Roger, someone's looking for you outside!" There was a knock on the dormitory door.

As he stepped out of the Gryffindor common room, Roger immediately spotted Hagrid's towering figure.

"What are you doing here?" Roger asked, somewhat puzzled.

Normally, Hagrid would not come looking for him at this hour.

Hagrid stood there scratching his head. "My experiment's made a bit more progress. I still haven't managed to miniaturize Magical Creatures, but I think this result is a little..."

"Strange?" Hagrid had struggled for a long while before finally settling on that word.

After what happened with the Fear Demon, Hagrid had become rather jumpy.

Even though he could not see any particular danger in this latest result, Hagrid was afraid that he might accidentally cause trouble again. So he had come to Roger at the first opportunity, hoping he would take a look.

As for Roger, since Hagrid had come all this way, he could hardly make him leave empty-handed. Thus, he headed once again to Hagrid's cabin in the Forbidden Forest with practiced ease.

"This thing..." The moment Roger saw Hagrid's new creation, he jolted in fright.

Only after examining it carefully did Roger finally let out a breath of relief.

Roger poked the green-skinned creature in front of him with his wand, then turned to Hagrid and asked suspiciously, "Hagrid, have you been playing Warhammer 40,000?"