The place to store your brain. (I solemnly swear, I'll only keep it safe and won't secretly eat it.)
July 1991, London, late at night.
In a secluded alley.
A small, thin figure in a black cloak and a bull-headed mask stood silently.
Those sapphire-blue eyes were fixed on Lloyds Bank in the distance.
It was Brook, only eleven years old.
Tonight, he was going to collect some interest.
He raised his hand, and a faintly glowing door appeared out of thin air.
Without the slightest hesitation, Brook stepped through the glowing door.
In the blink of an eye, he was already inside Lloyds Bank's vault.
The entire vault was lit as brightly as day.
Rows upon rows of safe-deposit boxes towered all the way to the ceiling.
Gold bars were piled across a metal table in the center of the vault, their glittering glow making his head spin.
Yet the instant he appeared, a piercing alarm blared.
Brook knew he did not have much time.
His hands swiftly moved through the air.
A one-foot-tall glowing door slowly moved across the metal table, and the gold bars vanished as if they had been swallowed.
Fine beads of sweat gradually formed on his forehead.
At the same time, the moment the alarm sounded, the guards grabbed their weapons and sprinted toward the vault.
A chubby bank manager panted as he followed behind them.
The fat on his face jiggled continuously from the strenuous exertion.
"Quick! Open the vault door!"
He roared himself hoarse.
The commotion at the vault door also caught Brook's attention.
With a wave of his hand, the glowing door transporting the gold bars instantly vanished.
He casually opened several glowing doors on the safe-deposit boxes beside him.
He grabbed a few handfuls of jewelry and cash at random and stuffed them into the bag he had prepared long ago.
"Don't move!"
The guards rushed into the vault, their pitch-black guns all aimed at Brook.
The corners of Brook's lips curled up slightly.
He waved at the guards, leaned back a little, and fell backward through the glowing door behind him.
The guards instinctively pulled their triggers.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted throughout the hall.
The bullets whistled toward the spot where Brook had vanished, but only struck the safe-deposit boxes.
After escaping the vault, Brook did not relax.
Following the route he had marked out beforehand, he continuously opened one glowing door after another.
Eventually, he returned to his residence—a three-story house in Kensington.
He panted heavily and grabbed the food he had prepared in advance, stuffing it into his mouth.
Using the Door-Door Fruit's power consumed a tremendous amount of stamina.
Food was the only way for him to recover quickly.
Brook looked at the gold bars piled into a small mountain inside the separate space.
(~￣▽￣)~
He was delighted.
After this job, he would leave Britain and head to America.
With this wealth, he could absolutely live extravagantly over there.
As for why he would not stay in Britain.
Both Pound Sterling and gold bars had serial numbers on them.
Once he used them in large quantities, he would definitely leave traces.
He was not going to treat the police like they were just for decoration.
So running to America was the simplest solution.
No one there would care where those things had come from.
As long as they could make money from them, that was enough.
It was simply the perfect place to fence stolen goods.
As he thought about it, a scene from a year ago surfaced in his mind.
Just like the usual trope in many novels.
He was a transmigrator.
The only difference was.
He had not been run over by the legendary transmigration truck.
He had thrown a firecracker into a manhole, then been crushed to death by the manhole cover in protest.
It was embarrassing just thinking about it. (;￢＿￢)
But fortunately, the body he had transmigrated into came with a natural protagonist template.
If you can't find the book by title, try searching for the author. It may have simply been renamed!
Both parents dead.
Handsome and refined, practically as handsome as all the esteemed readers.
Not only had he inherited a considerable fortune, but there were also no troublesome relatives fighting him for it.
Actually, that was another sad story.
It was not that he had no relatives. On the contrary, he had plenty.
It was just that all those relatives were richer than his family and looked down on this small inheritance.
Since he had been given a protagonist template, a system was naturally indispensable.
The "Roulette System."
Complete the tasks issued by the system, and he could earn one chance to spin the wheel.
How should he put it?
The roulette wheel was very crudely designed.
It looked a lot like the one on Pinduoduo.
The wheel was divided into four sections: grand prize, first prize, second prize, and thank you for participating.
The only difference was probably that.
His wheel actually gave out prizes.
The Pinduoduo one did not.
There was a long list of tasks, more than a hundred in total.
There were also quite a few quest chains.
Through the tasks issued by the system.
Brook discovered that he had actually transmigrated into the world of Harry Potter.
As for Harry Potter, he could only say that he had watched the movies, while he had forgotten almost all the details.
Originally, he had planned to do what ordinary transmigrators did.
Enter Hogwarts after turning eleven and grind quests.
After all, he was curious about what exactly this system could give him.
However, fate was just that absurd.
His neighbor turned out to be Hermione Granger.
So, for no apparent reason, he completed the task [Make Contact with One of the Golden Trio] and gained one chance to spin the wheel.
The task also updated to [Make Contact with the Entire Golden Trio].
In his previous life, he could not even win five yuan from the lottery.
Yet this time, his luck had exploded, and he drew the grand prize—the Door-Door Fruit.
Brook was overjoyed.
In One Piece, Blueno had indeed seemed rather useless.
He used the Door-Door Fruit like it was nothing more than a means of transportation.
But Brook knew that this fruit's potential went far beyond that.
This thing was a conceptual power.
A galaxy was also a "river."
Then the "Space Gate" and the "Time Gate" were also gates, right?
What about the "Gate of Life," "Power Gate," and "Mind Gate"?
As long as he dared to imagine it, any concept could have the word "gate" added to it.
There were simply too many abilities that could be developed.
Wasn't that better than learning some useless magic?
Of course, for now, he could only imagine those things.
Whether he could develop them.
That depended on fate.
After a year of training and development.
Brook had finally gained a preliminary grasp of several abilities.
Create Door: He could create a door on the surface of any substance.
Space Gate: He could construct a spatial passage and instantly travel from one location to another.
Hidden Space: He could create two invisible doors, and the space between them would become a separate space.
Moving Door: An extension of Create Door and Space Gate. Anything the door passed over would enter the separate space.
Spatial Mark: He could leave a mark anywhere or on any living creature.
As the saying went, a gentleman loved wealth but acquired it by proper means.
Especially when he was taking money from the British—it made him feel wonderful inside and out.
That was interest owed by Her Majesty, money that rightfully belonged to him.
From now on, every bank in the world would be his for the taking.
Hogwarts?
Going to school?
Not even dogs would go.
Brook tossed the gold bar in his hand back into the separate space.
There was a flight to America tomorrow night.
Las Vegas, Hawaii—and once he came of age, he could even visit that mysterious island for some fun. Awoo~
As for those system tasks.
What decent person would do quests?
If you think this book is good, please add it to your bookshelf so you won't lose it next time.
Before you continue