Eliana Punches the Idiot's Arm

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A surprise attack!

Did everyone put away their things for the surprise inspection?

Now you can really start reading.

When Dumbledore stepped onto the steps in front of the orphanage, Eliana was lying in ambush four streets away, ready to fight at any moment.

That damned brat from the Smith family, looks nothing like a human and does nothing but humanly-displeasing things. They even steal money fundraised by the orphanage kids. Is there only this little bit left for a coffin?

Ha, today she'll let him know that some people can die even after being buried in the dirt!

Sparks of anger danced in Eliana's eyes.

Does that idiot know how long Mary stood on the street holding the donation jar for this money—and more importantly, she and Mary were a team, and the final ranking was based on the total amount raised by each group!

Every night, she'd quietly get up and sneak to others' beds to weigh their jars—none of them were heavier than hers, she was definitely first—she was almost considered a pervert for it.

And then.

She just took her eyes off it for a second.

Damn it, everything was gone in an instant!!

They didn't even leave the jar for her!!!

Just you wait, if she doesn't beat the crap out of this dog today, she's not Eliana!

Eliana's teeth gnashed, and she ferociously lowered her body closer to the ground, like a coiled spring.

A boy like a giant pig king came running down the intersection, a chocolate bar wrapped in large gold foil clutched in his pig-like trotters.

This must have been bought with the money from their donation jars!

Her money! Her first place!

Eliana's dark eyes almost turned green with anger, and the hands resting on her chest pushed lightly into the air.

A stone on the road, as if pushed by an invisible hand, rolled a couple of times and landed right under the boy's shoe.

"Aow!!"

The boy crashed to the ground with a CLANG, shaking the heavens and earth.

Heh, the London Transport Authority should thank her—with this fall, they'll save half a liter of oil next time they send a steamroller down this road.

"You dog!"

Eliana sprang from behind the bushes like a bird, soaring in a high and long arc through the air before landing heavily on the half-dead fat pig's back.

"Weren't you quite arrogant yesterday? Hmm?!"

A phrase made of blocky characters flashed through her mind—When the enemy is tired, we attack; when the enemy retreats, we advance.

How fitting for the current situation!

But why would she know such a philosophical saying?

Eliana shook the fleeting thought from her mind—perhaps because she was a genius!

The genius ferociously raised her fist.

BAM!!!

A pig-slaughtering howl echoed through the street.

However, no matter how loud the commotion, it wouldn't reach the orphanage director's office, four streets away.

"Good morning, Mrs. Brown," Dumbledore said politely, extending his hand to the pale-faced woman before him. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I wrote you a letter a while ago..."

"I remember," Mrs. Brown said hesitantly, looking at the old man whose beard nearly reached his belt. He's this old and still comes to recruit in person? This school must not be very good, right?

Oh well, it has to be better than the community vocational school, right?

"You mentioned in your letter that you're willing to let Young Eliana attend your school—Hogwarts, is it called?"

"Eliana?" Dumbledore's voice paused.

This momentary pause seemed to lead Mrs. Brown to misunderstand something. "Yes, Eliana, Eliana Rich."

"Black hair, black eyes, a little Asian girl, but I guarantee she's no worse than any white girl... You're talking about her, right?"

Mrs. Brown's speech quickened. Even though she doubted the school's quality a moment ago, it was still better than having no education.

"If it's not her, perhaps you could consider this child. She's truly a good child, and she deserves a bright future," she said eagerly.

"Yes, that's right, it's her," Dumbledore reassured her. "Can you tell me about her?"

The tense Mrs. Brown relaxed, and the previously overlooked doubts resurfaced.

"Of course. But before that, I have a question. We never registered her for any school. Where did you hear about her and why are you willing to take her in?"

"Actually, her name appeared on our admission list a while ago."

"A while ago," Mrs. Brown pressed eagerly. "How long ago? Did her parents or any relatives register her? Then why aren't they here to pick her up?"

Her questions came at him like a barrage of cannon fire.

Fortunately, Dumbledore had encountered many similar situations in his long life.

"Perhaps, you'll understand if you just take a look at this."

He skillfully handed over a blank piece of paper, and with a gentle wave of his wand in his other hand.

Mrs. Brown's eyes became unfocused as she began to study the paper inch by inch with great seriousness.

"I don't think I have any more questions," she said, returning the paper to Dumbledore. "Thank you so much for giving little Ellie a chance. Perhaps, may I invite you for a cup of tea?"

"It would be my honor," Dumbledore said with a smile, taking back the paper and pulling out a packet of biscuits wrapped in oil paper from his pocket. "Perhaps we could have some sweet tea and pastries as well."

Wisps of white steam rose from the rim of the cup. The heat and powdered sugar seemed to melt the initially somewhat cold atmosphere, and also opened up Mrs. Brown's floodgates.

"I named little Ellie," she said, puffing out her chest with pride. "But if you met her, you'd know how fitting the name is—she's a little sunbeam!"

"That sounds wonderful," Dumbledore said.

"Of course." This touched a nerve with Mrs. Brown, and she began to chatter endlessly. "She's the smartest little girl I've ever met—and the most diligent. When she first came last year, her dictation was a mess; she couldn't even spell 'please' correctly, but in just a few months, she became the top of her class."

"She came last year? Didn't she grow up with you?" Dumbledore asked, appearing very interested, which undoubtedly further fueled the speaker's desire to share.

"Oh, no. It was around October last year, I remember it was a sunny afternoon—you know how rare that is in London—little Ellie was left at the doorstep. The poor child was terribly ill, covered in chickenpox, her cheeks flushed with fever, and completely unconscious. We almost thought she wouldn't make it. God bless her, she pulled through."

"Did she say anything when she woke up?" Dumbledore asked. "About her parents, for instance?"

"Actually," Mrs. Brown sighed, "she could barely speak then."

"Barely speak?" Dumbledore's voice sounded somewhat surprised.

"The doctor said perhaps the dangerous high fever had affected her head a bit—" Mrs. Brown realized her words could be misinterpreted and quickly corrected herself.

"I'm not saying Ellie is foolish—she relearned English within a month and communicated with us fluently. She's really very smart, she just forgot everything from before, she didn't even remember her own name."

"Later, she gave herself a surname," Mrs. Brown said, her eyes softening as if recalling something amusing. "She wanted to call herself Rich, saying that being rich was her greatest wish. Even if someone insulted her later, calling her 'Miss Rich' would lessen her anger a little."

"She sounds like a quirky little girl," Dumbledore said with a smile, as if casually. "Have any strange things happened around her?"

"Strange?" Mrs. Brown looked offended. "Ellie is never a strange girl! If you consider her often doing the work of two people by herself to lessen our burden!"

"Or perhaps you've been listening to the gossip of those gossips on the street... Yes, once the cook fell off a ladder while changing a lightbulb, and little Ellie caught her without a scratch. But I think, perhaps it was an outburst of strength born out of desperation—we must allow for some miracles of love, mustn't we?"

She was almost aggressive.

Unsure which of her words struck a chord with the old man, he took off his half-moon spectacles and wiped them. "Yes, love is the greatest power. I look forward to meeting this lovely little girl."

"Of course," Mrs. Brown brightened again. "She's obedient, low-maintenance, everyone likes her—"

"Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Brown! It's terrible, Eliana has stolen the gong from the lobby!"

A little girl rushed in.

Mrs. Brown: "..."

Dumbledore: "..."

Mrs. Brown paused, then said calmly, "Of course, you have to understand, girls her age always have a few lively ideas..."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, as if thinking of something. "Yes, I understand perfectly."

Mrs. Brown breathed a sigh of relief and said unnaturally, "But I swear, these situations aren't that frequent. Eliana is mostly a well-behaved little angel..."

"Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Brown! It's bad, it's a disaster! Ellie is kicking Young Smith around the street like a ball! So many people are watching, Mrs. Smith wants you to come out and manage her!"

Another little girl rushed in.

Mrs. Brown, who was desperately trying to convince Dumbledore that Ellie was well-behaved and make him forget this little interlude: ...

Dumbledore: ...

The pulse on Mrs. Brown's cheek twitched violently, and her teeth clenched. "Ah, occasionally, not often, sometimes there are a few little accidents. Children, being lively is unavoidable. You believe me, Ellie is truly a good child, these things... aren't frequent—I mean, little Eliana will definitely get into your school, right?"

"Of course."

"Even if her performance during this interview wasn't perfect—?"

"Actually, this isn't an interview—I mean, she can definitely get into our school."

"Perhaps she's a little mischievous, but that's alright?"

"Even if she blows up the house right now."

Dumbledore said with a smile, seemingly not considering it a big deal at all.

Mrs. Brown narrowed her eyes at the old man, as if judging the sincerity of his words.

But clearly, she eventually decided he was trustworthy.

She took a deep breath. The moment Dumbledore saw her turn her head, fire seemed to shoot from her eyes. The slender woman now looked like an enraged tigress.

"Take me to Eliana, Mary. This little imp who climbs the roof if you don't spank her for three days. Do you know what day it is today—failing me at the crucial moment!"

The little girl named Mary shivered violently and quietly pleaded for her companion. "Eliana didn't mean to—"

"CLANG!!!"

Another loud gong sound came from the doorway, followed by a powerful girl's voice: "Everyone, come and see!!!"

The veins on Mrs. Brown's forehead pulsed in rhythm with the gong. "Alright, Mary, be quiet. I hear her."

She turned, trying to regain her previous gentle demeanor for Dumbledore, but her lips were clearly twitching with anger. "Perhaps you could wait here for me for a moment...?"

"No, no, no, I can't wait to meet this lively young lady."

Dumbledore looked rather eager.