That was not direct fear, but more like an instinctive warning of a dangerous presence, making his scalp tingle and his limbs go weak.
Malfoy's struggling stopped abruptly, as though someone had cut the power.
He froze on Skofot's lap, as if half the blood in his body had gone cold.
He could clearly sense the aura emanating from the person behind him, utterly different from the usual occasional fragility and nervousness.
—A restrained, icy, utterly indifferent... inhuman quality.
He had no doubt that if he moved again, something extremely terrifying might happen.
Malfoy behaved himself.
Like a statue instantly turned to stone, he sat stiffly on Skofot's lap, even softening his breathing. Only his eyes could still move in terror.
The surroundings fell deathly silent. No one dared make a sound, not even daring to breathe too loudly.
After quite a while, Malfoy finally found a little of his voice again.
Trembling, with a sobbing note and unbearable humiliation in his voice, he tried to negotiate.
"Le... Leoqi... what... what exactly do you want? Put me down... I... I can have my father..."
"Quiet." Skofot cut him off. His voice was not loud, yet it carried an unquestionable command.
He even picked up a piece of buttered bread and held it to Malfoy's lips. "Eat."
Malfoy looked at the bread right in front of him, then felt the cold, wrong aura behind him. Humiliated tears swirled in his eyes.
He bit his lip hard and refused to open his mouth.
Skofot did not force him. He withdrew his hand and began eating breakfast at an unhurried pace, as though having a platinum-haired "human cushion" on his lap was the most natural thing in the world.
Malfoy sat there stiffly, every second feeling like a year. He could feel all kinds of looks from the students around him.
—Shock, sympathy, and perhaps even a trace of concealed mockery.
He had never been this humiliated in his life!
He tried to negotiate again, his voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz and filled with pleading. "Please... let me down... I'll agree to anything..."
Skofot chewed his food. Hearing that, he merely tilted his head and glanced at him with eyes made even deeper and calmer under the influence of [Scavenger], saying nothing.
That look drove Malfoy into complete despair.
He understood. There was simply no reasoning with Leoqi in this state.
In the end, he gave up struggling and trying to communicate. Like a quail frightened out of its wits, he curled up on Skofot's lap in humiliation and terror, forced to "accompany" this dangerous person through a breakfast he would never forget for the rest of his life.
[Emotion Points +80] (From Draco Malfoy's extreme humiliation, fear, and breakdown) [Emotion Points +50] (From the shock and fear of the surrounding Slytherin students) [Emotion Points: 1620/100]
Only when breakfast ended did Skofot lift the stiff-bodied Malfoy from his lap like a kitten, pat him on the shoulder, and say in the same flat tone.
"See you tomorrow."
Then he got up and left the long table without another thought, leaving Malfoy slumped alone in his chair, deathly pale and hollow-eyed, as though his soul had been sucked out.
Only then did Crabbe and Goyle dare to gather around, looking helplessly at their young master.
Malfoy suddenly shoved them away and staggered out of the Great Hall. He needed to write to his father immediately!
This Leoqi was simply an unreasonable monster!
Hogwarts was no longer safe!
Late on the third night, the castle's underground levels were deathly silent. Like a perfectly accurate clock, Skofot silently appeared before the door leading to the third-floor forbidden corridor.
He knew what would happen tonight.
—Quirrell, or rather, the one on the back of his head, would come for the Philosopher's Stone.
He did not use the main entrance. Instead, he circled around to an inconspicuous section of wall, recalling the rough location of the trapdoor.
This was the place.
He took a deep breath and clenched his right fist. The surging power brought by his 139 Strength stat coursed through his muscles.
There was no fancy technique and no magical glow, only the purest, most brutal physical force.
One punch.
"Boom!!"
The dull crash was especially horrifying in the silence. Chunks of stone flew everywhere, and dust billowed through the air.
He had forcibly blasted a hole large enough for a person through the hard stone floor. Beneath it was the familiar room reeking of dog and filled with snoring.
Fluffy, the three-headed dog, seemed startled by the tremendous noise. Its three heads groggily lifted, but before it could fully awaken and roar—
Skofot had already jumped through the hole, landing near its soft belly.
Before Fluffy could open its bloodied jaws, he threw another punch, this time targeting the joint beneath one of its heads.
"Bang!"
A dull impact sounded, accompanied by the faint crack of bones slipping out of place.
That head snapped backward with a whimper, and together with the other two heads, crashed heavily onto the ground and passed out.
Simple, brutal, efficient.
He pulled open the trapdoor and leaped down.
Devil's Snare vines coiled around him like venomous snakes that had caught the scent of prey.
Skofot did not struggle. He simply relaxed his body completely, allowing the slick vines to wrap around him and drag him down.
When he felt his rate of descent increase, he suddenly tensed his core. His powerful waist and abdominal strength let him twist like a fish, easily breaking free of the loosened vines and landing steadily on the cold floor below.
After passing through the Devil's Snare room, he arrived before a huge, brightly lit chessboard.
The black and white chess pieces were tall and imposing, gleaming with a cold stony sheen.
Skofot glanced at them without the slightest intention of stopping.
He walked straight toward the stone wall at the edge of the board and clenched his fist again.
"Rumble!"
Another tremendous crash rang out as the stone wall was smashed open, fragments of rock raining down.
He bent down and crawled through, leaving the wizard's chess set still waiting for its opponents behind him.
The next room was filled with flying keys, like a swarm of metal bees.
Skofot looked up at the old broomstick but did not go for it.
His gaze locked onto the huge keyhole in the heavy wooden door opposite him.
He walked up to the door and held out his hand, gauging the keyhole's size and depth.
Then he extended his right index and middle fingers. A metallic gleam flashed at their tips, a manifestation of concentrated strength, and he thrust them into the keyhole!
"Crack... creak..."
A teeth-grinding sound of twisting metal rang out.
He twisted his wrist, using his terrifying strength to crush and bend the mechanisms inside the lock.
A few seconds later, he withdrew his fingers. A soft click came from the door.
—The lock had been physically destroyed.
He pushed open the wooden door and entered the next room.
The troll lay unconscious on the floor, giving off a foul stench. Skofot held his breath and hurried through.
Last came Snape's potion logic test. Seven potions of different colors sat on the table, with a parchment riddle beside them.
Skofot did not even look at the parchment. He directly picked up the smallest bottle, which contained a transparent liquid.
The system-produced [Restoration Potion] was mainly a beverage, but it seemed to possess a faint "purification" or "correct identification" property as well?
He was not entirely sure, but he trusted his instincts and... the system's "Today's Items" refresh pattern. He vaguely felt that the system sometimes provided exactly what he happened to need.
He took a small sip, feeling the familiar mildly sweet tea fragrance and warmth flow through him.
Then he walked toward the mass of black magical fire.
As he approached, the flames silently parted to either side as though they had encountered their natural enemy, revealing a path.
He walked inside and finally reached the last room.
At the center of the room stood the Mirror of Erised, silent and still.
Before you continue