He is the Decided One

As if merely glancing around casually, he chewed his food absentmindedly, his gaze as pristine (in his own opinion) as early winter snow.

At the same time, on the staff table, Snape's hand, which had been raising his goblet, paused almost imperceptibly.

A sudden, bone-chilling malice seized him without warning!

The sensation was so familiar, yet so repulsive—

like the premonition just before the Cruciatus Curse struck, or the feeling of being locked onto by a venomous snake in the shadows, even...

carrying a hint of the oppressive aura the Dark Lord had casually exuded at his peak!

But it came and went as quickly as a hallucination.

He jerked his head up, his hollow black eyes sweeping across the Great Hall like the sharpest probes.

Finally, his gaze locked sharply onto the new black-haired boy at the Slytherin table—the one the Sorting Hat had just called out as "Azkaban."

The boy looked up, chewing, his face a picture of "innocent curiosity" as he stared at the staff table, as if fascinated by everything.

Snape's brow furrowed deeply, his lips pressing into a pale, thin line.

A mistake? Or...

He stared intently at Skofot Leoqi, trying to find any trace of that icy killing intent beneath that calm, even somewhat frail exterior.

Nothing. There was nothing.

When the boy met his scrutinizing gaze, he even showed a slightly awkward and confused expression, then quickly lowered his head to focus on his steak, as if intimidated by the professor's stern look.

[Emotion Points +30] (from Snape's vigilance, suspicion, and intense scrutiny)

[Emotion Points: 440/100]

Snape slowly set down his goblet, his knuckles whitening from the force of his grip.

The suspicion in his mind churned like the potion brewing in his dungeon—thick and murky.

This Leoqi... is definitely trouble. The Sorting Hat's anomaly, and that fleeting sensation just now... was it an illusion?

No, he trusted his instincts.

It seemed he would need to pay "special attention" to this new Slytherin.

Fotkai lowered his head, cutting the food on his plate, the corner of his mouth curling upward ever so slightly in a spot no one could see.

Excellent. A strong yet restrained reaction.

The fish had taken the bait.

Just as Fotkai was savoring his success in provoking Snape and planning how to sustainably "harvest" the Potions Master's Emotion Points, the system panel at the edge of his vision flickered. A gray button that had never lit up before briefly became clickable, with a line of text appearing beside it:

[Unlock Shop at 500 Emotion Points.]

"Shop?" Fotkai's heart stirred, but he immediately noticed his balance was 440/100, still short of 500.

"I don't have five hundred yet," he said to the system in his mind.

The text and button instantly dimmed, the panel returning to normal as if nothing had happened.

Then, the system added flatly:

[I misread.]

Fotkai: "..."

He was truly at a loss. This system seemed a bit unreliable.

Just then, the Slytherin prefect stood up, his voice cutting clearly through the chatter at the table:

"First-years! Follow me—I'll take you to the common room!"

The new students rose one after another, chairs scraping against the floor.

Fotkai stood up with the crowd, knowing it was time to leave the Great Hall.

At the very last moment before turning to follow the group, he glanced back as if by accident, his gaze precisely locking onto Snape at the staff table.

—The [Cleaner] card's "killing intent" control had a limitation: he had to look at the target to release it accurately.

Their eyes met for an extremely brief moment.

Now!

Another thread of "killing intent," even finer than before but equally bone-chilling, shot toward Snape like an invisible viper.

This time, he deliberately controlled the amount and duration, more like a provocative "reminder."

Then, he immediately withdrew his gaze, turned, and merged into the stream of new students, leaving Snape only the sight of a thin back clad in a second-hand black robe.

On the staff table, Snape's seated figure tensed almost imperceptibly for an instant.

That familiar, spine-chilling malice struck him clearly once more!

And this time, he was one hundred percent certain the source was that first-year named Skofot Leoqi, who had just met his eyes.

Not a misperception!

His hollow black eyes instantly turned razor-sharp, like a bat locking onto prey, fixed on the figure about to vanish around the corner of the entrance hall.

The boy's final glance was calm and flat, devoid of excess emotion, but that icy killing intent was unmistakable!

This little troll... was he provoking him?

Or some kind of... test?

Snape's face darkened as if it could drip water, the hand resting on his knee quietly clenching.

The low pressure radiating from him made Professor Quirrell, sitting nearby, instinctively shrink back.

Quirrell: Nuts.

[Emotion Points +40] (From Snape's rising fury at being clearly provoked, cold scrutiny, and intense curiosity)

[Emotion Points: 480/100]

Fotkai, trailing at the end of the line, clearly heard the system prompt and felt the icy gaze nearly piercing through him from behind.

Good.

Hatred... or rather, the seed of attention, had been planted.

And it was high quality.

He lowered his head, following the group toward the Slytherin dungeons, his face expressionless.

Life at Hogwarts certainly wouldn't be boring. It was just that the card effect of "The Scavenger" seemed even more... eye-catching than he had anticipated.

He'd have to use it carefully.

The Slytherin common room was hidden behind a bare, damp stone wall. After the prefect gave the password, the stone door slid open silently.

Inside was a dim space glowing with green light, luxurious silver-green decorations exuding a cold, ancient air.

The ceiling projected the rippling light of the Black Lake's depths through magic, bringing a stifling tranquility.

The prefect began assigning dormitories.

Names were called one by one, the new students finding their roommates, whispering to each other as they headed to their designated rooms.

But when "Skofot Leoqi" was read out, the atmosphere noticeably froze.

The few remaining unassigned new students unanimously lowered their heads, some pretending to organize their luggage, others staring nervously at the ground—no one responded.

The air was thick with silent fear and rejection. The Sorting Hat's resounding "Azkaban" in the Great Hall, and the lingering, spine-chilling "off-putting" aura around Fotkai, convinced them that sharing a room with this person might mean mysteriously losing their lives in the middle of the night.

[Emotion Points +15] (From the fear and rejection of surrounding new students)

[Emotion Points: 495/100]

Fotkai stood alone in a small open space, his shabby suitcase at his feet.

He could clearly "see" (Killing Intent Visualization) the faint red ripples of fear emanating from the classmates around him, all directed at him.

He had already tried hard to suppress the natural "off-putting" aura of the [Scavenger] card, but it was clearly of limited effect.

A vague sense of irritation welled up inside him.

He didn't care about fitting in, but this blatant isolation based on fear still stirred a trace of impatience.

He lifted his head, his gaze directly locking onto the prefect, who was frowning at the list. His voice was calm, yet carried a cold hardness that belied his age and appearance: