Quirrell's Death

"No--!!!"

Voldemort let out an extremely shrill roar, filled with pain and unwillingness.

Under the scorching of that golden-red light, Quirrell's body began to convulse violently, melting like a wax figure thrown into a raging fire.

Voldemort's blurred face on the back of his head twisted and screamed in the light, finally turning into a wisp of black smoke, which dissipated along with Quirrell's charred body as it fell to the ground.

The golden-red light gradually faded.

Harry stood in place, gasping for breath. The impact of that moment and the power erupting from within him left him feeling weak.

He looked at Quirrell's rapidly cooling, charred corpse on the ground, both shocked and terrified. He hadn't fully understood what had happened when he felt the world spin and his vision go black, collapsing softly onto the ground.

The room fell silent once more.

Only Skofot remained standing, along with the unconscious Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and a rapidly cooling pile of ash.

Skofot slowly retracted his hand, feeling the power within him subside. The chilling killing intent from the [Scavenger] card also receded like a tide.

He glanced at the unconscious Harry on the ground, then at Quirrell's corpse and the wisp of Voldemort's residual soul smoke that hadn't completely dispersed.

Success.

Killing with a borrowed knife, driving a tiger to devour a wolf.

With hardly any effort, he had used the ancient protection magic left by Lily Evans on Harry to severely wound Voldemort and eliminate Quirrell.

He walked to Harry's side, crouched down, and skillfully reached into Harry's robe pocket, easily retrieving the Philosopher's Stone, which glowed with an alluring red light.

Its warm touch, its powerful magic fluctuations.

He weighed the stone that countless people dreamed of, his expression unreadable, and casually stuffed it into his system backpack.

Then, he stood up, brushed off nonexistent dust from his robe, as if he had just completed a trivial task.

It was time to go.

Before the professors were drawn by the commotion.

He cast one last glance at the devastated battlefield.

His gaze lingered for a moment on Harry's face, still etched with fear even in his unconscious state.

Then, without hesitation, he turned and, just as he had arrived, silently melted back into the darkness leading to the upper levels of the castle.

[Emotion Points +300] (From Voldemort's extreme pain, anger, and terror when severely wounded)

[Emotion Points +150] (From Quirrell's fear and collapse in his final moments)

[Emotion Points +100] (From Harry's shock and anger before losing consciousness)

[Emotion Points: 2520/100]

A substantial haul.

And, he had acquired a nice souvenir.

Skofot's mood, for once, brightened considerably.

Just as Skofot turned to leave, a faint but clear voice came from the ground, trembling but remarkably firm:

"Leoqi... What... what exactly do you want to do?"

It was Hermione Granger.

She was tightly bound by ropes, unable to move, but unlike Ron, she hadn't completely fainted.

She struggled to lift her head, her brown eyes filled with fear, yet she stared fixedly at Skofot, especially at his recent action of putting away the Philosopher's Stone.

Skofot's steps halted.

He slowly turned around, the faint brightness on his face from his gains instantly replaced by a new, playful expression.

He paced to Hermione's side, then gracefully crouched down, bringing his gaze level with hers.

With a slight mental shift, [Scavenger] was unequipped, and the [Leader] card was quietly equipped.

A completely different aura, not of chilling killing intent but of greater oppression, permeated the air.

It was the majesty of a superior, open and aboveboard yet inspiring awe, as if he were born to control the situation and judge all things.

A semblance of a "smile" even appeared on his face.

However, the smile didn't reach his eyes, and under the enhancement of the [Leader] buff, it appeared even more unfathomable.

Hermione's breath hitched under the sudden shift in his demeanor and the invisible pressure of his authority. Her body trembled uncontrollably, as if a heavy burden had settled upon her heart.

But she bit her lower lip hard, forcing herself to meet his calm yet piercing gaze.

"Put down the Philosopher's Stone, Leoqi."

Hermione's voice trembled with fear, but she tried to maintain her composure and persuasion.

"Turn back now... there's still time. As long as you put down the Philosopher's Stone and wait for the professors to arrive, explain clearly... you still have a chance... to reform."

"Oh?"

Skofot acted as if it had heard the most amusing joke.

He extended a finger, the tip carrying a hint of chill, and gently touched Hermione's cheek, which was tense with nervousness.

"What opportunity? Miss Granger, what opportunity can you give me?"

Hermione recoiled with disgust, turning her face away sharply, avoiding his touch. Her voice rose, filled with urgency and a final desperate plea:

"A chance to repent! If you hand over the Philosopher's Stone and prove you're not working with Quirrell and the Dark Lord! Professor Dumbledore and the others will surely..."

"Wait for the Professor to come..." Skofot repeated her words, his smile suddenly widening. He couldn't help but let out a low, mocking chuckle from his throat.

"Haha... Wait for the Professor to come, and then what? Question our valiant Miss Granger about why I happened to be here? Question me about how I managed to pass all the obstacles? Or question me..."

His voice suddenly lowered, and he leaned forward. His face, wearing a smiling expression, loomed close to Hermione.

The majesty of a [Leader], mixed with his own unsettling aura, formed a powerful mental pressure that enveloped Hermione like a physical force.

"...about how I 'happened' to push him when Voldemort was about to grab your dear Potter?"

Hermione's pupils constricted in extreme fear.

She looked at the face inches from hers. Beneath its seemingly bright and authoritative facade lay unfathomable calculation, and a blend of madness and calmness she couldn't comprehend.

He knew everything!

He had even deliberately pushed Quirrell to touch Harry!

He had exploited the protection charm on Harry!

He wasn't innocent at all; he was the mastermind behind everything!

The sheer volume of information, the worry for her friends, and the terrifying pressure from the person before her, which far exceeded her understanding, Felt like the last straw, completely breaking the mental defenses of the eleven-year-old girl.

"...No..." she uttered a faint, almost inaudible whisper, her eyes rolling upward. Her body convulsed violently.

Then, she completely lost consciousness, slumping limply within the ropes that bound her, and fainted.

The smile on Skofot's face vanished instantly, and the [Leader] card was removed.

He stood up, casting a cold glance at the unconscious Hermione, then swept his gaze over the sprawled bodies of Harry, Ron, and Quirrell on the ground.

The noisy commotion finally ceased.

He straightened his robes and, without any further hesitation, his figure disappeared completely into the darkness leading to the upper levels of the castle, as if he had never been there.

All that remained was the mess on the ground, several unconscious children, and a gradually cooling corpse, silently recounting the thrilling events that had just transpired.

And the true mastermind had already departed quietly, taking his spoils with him.

[Emotion Points +120] (From Hermione Granger's breakdown under extreme fear, cognitive shock, and mental pressure)

[Emotion Points: 2640/100]