Tom's expression gradually stiffened. He let out a scornful laugh.
"You really think you're the boss, huh?"
He clutched the money even tighter to his chest, his eyes full of disdain.
"Don't you know that when you're out on the streets, your fists do the talking, you little brat?"
Lisa sneered along with him. The pitiful look she'd worn earlier had vanished without a trace.
"Who do you think you are? We've already done you a huge favor by taking orders from a kid."
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The other young man was even more direct. He spat on the ground.
"You're a little brat who hasn't even grown a hair yet, playing at being the boss? I've wanted to beat you up for ages."
Charlie watched them in silence, feeling utterly helpless.
As an underage orphan, it was never going to be easy to get by in this lousy neighborhood.
But what choice did he have?
The orphanage didn't have the money to send him to school. He had no education, no background, and no connections. Even if he wanted to use his knowledge of the future to make money on the stock market, he still needed startup capital.
And the only way he could think of to build up some capital was through less-than-legal means.
He'd gone to great lengths to get them to imitate the gangs in Hong Kong movies, swearing brotherhood and pledging to put loyalty first.
He'd hoped that would bring them together and let him build a little gang of his own.
But now it was obvious he'd been far too naive.
Being eleven was a serious handicap. In their eyes, he was just a clever kid who came up with ideas—useful until they were done with him.
When Tom saw Charlie stay silent, he assumed he'd been scared and grew even more smug.
"Back then, you made us swear an oath: brothers or gold?"
He weighed the cash in his arms and sneered.
"Well, a guy's obviously gonna love his brothers' gold more."
The group burst out laughing, their laughter echoing through the narrow alley.
The harsh sound made Charlie's temples throb.
The feeling of being played filled him with anger.
He tried to suppress his fury, but that familiar restlessness had already begun to churn in his chest.
Seeing this, a malicious glint flashed in Tom's eyes.
"What, you don't like it?"
He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his sturdy arms.
"Come on. Let your big brother teach you how the world works."
As he spoke, he swung his fist toward Charlie's face.
At that very moment.
An invisible wave erupted from Charlie.
It felt like a sudden gale, or the shockwave of an earthquake.
Tom's fist stopped in midair. An unseen force shoved him back and pinned him hard against the wall.
It wasn't just him. Lisa and the other young man were also pinned down, unable to move.
Their mouths fell open as they tried to scream, but no sound came from their throats.
Their eyes were full of fear and confusion.
What was going on?
This made no sense!
Charlie slowly rose to his feet, his expression cold as he looked at the three people pinned against the wall.
Ever since he'd crossed over, he'd noticed that whenever he got worked up, this kind of power would erupt from him.
He couldn't control it at will and had no idea where it came from, but it always protected him.
That was also why he'd dared to go out and make money at such a young age.
Charlie walked toward Tom, one step at a time.
"Tap."
"Tap."
His footsteps rang out especially clearly in the silent alley.
Tom tried to struggle, but his body wouldn't obey him. All he could do was watch as Charlie approached.
He felt his bladder trembling.
Charlie reached out and easily pulled all the cash from the three men's fists.
"Why not just take your own share? You had to shove yours into my hands."
"You've really got me worked up now."
He folded the money and slipped it into his pocket.
Then he lifted his head and stared coldly at Tom.
"What was it you said just now?"
"When you're out on the streets, your fists do the talking?"
Charlie's lips curled into a mocking smile.
"Then go on. Try throwing a punch now."
Tom tried to speak, but after opening and closing his mouth, all he could manage was a series of "uh" sounds.
Suddenly, Lisa's pants grew wet, and a warm stream ran down her legs onto the ground.
A foul smell spread through the air.
Charlie frowned and took a step back.
"Disgusting."
He turned to leave. These three losers were useless now; he'd have to find a few new musclemen.
There was no way his dream of becoming a crime boss was going to end like this.
Just then, a gentle but slightly stern voice rang out from the entrance to the alley.
"Mr. White, would you please release these Muggles?"
Charlie's pupils contracted sharply, and he instinctively turned around.
At the alley entrance stood a woman in a pointed hat and a strange emerald-green robe. She wore square spectacles, and though her expression was stern, she didn't look unkind.
Deep wrinkles lined her face. She looked to be in her seventies or eighties.
Professor McGonagall was rather surprised.
Merlin's three-day-unwashed white stockings, this young wizard's magical outburst is incredibly powerful.
Generally speaking, the more frequent and intense a wizard's magical outbursts were, the more talented they were.
But she couldn't let him do anything irrational.
Seeing a stranger, Charlie grew wary.
He'd just used that strange power, and now a mysterious person had appeared. That was far too much of a coincidence.
Could she be some government agent sent to capture people with abilities like me and cut me open for research?
Charlie's mind raced as he considered what to do. He decided to try talking first.
"Muggles?" Charlie narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
Professor McGonagall gently flicked her wand, and Tom and the others slid off the wall, collapsing limply onto the ground.
Their eyes turned dull and vacant, like puppets with their strings cut.
Charlie drew in a sharp breath at the sight.
Is she going to kill them to cover this up?
"I've only made them forget everything they saw just now." Professor McGonagall put away her wand and explained gently. "You don't need to worry. I'm not here to hurt you."
Charlie wasn't sure what to make of that.
Whatever her intentions were, he clearly had no way to fight back.
That trick was obviously beyond his half-baked supernatural abilities.
Professor McGonagall straightened her robes.
"Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Minerva McGonagall, Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Hogwarts?
Charlie's heart gave a hard thump.
He'd never watched Harry Potter, but as a modern person in his previous life, those names were familiar to him.
Voldemort, Dumbledore, Hogwarts...
Those keywords had appeared countless times online.
Is this the world of Harry Potter?
Seeing Charlie's shocked expression, Professor McGonagall's lips curled up without her meaning to.
She loved seeing the look on young wizards' faces when they first learned about the magical world. It was one of her great pleasures.
So every year, when new students enrolled, she would ask Dumbledore to let her go and bring in the Muggle-born wizards.
Charlie pressed her. "You just mentioned magic, right?"
Professor McGonagall nodded.
"That's right. Magic. The power you just showed was an expression of your magical power." Her voice grew even gentler.
"Mr. White, you're a wizard."
A wizard!
Charlie could hardly contain his excitement.
In his previous life, he'd wished countless times that the heavens would grant him a superpower. The Twelve Talismans, a Devil Fruit, a cultivation manual, ninjutsu, martial arts—anything would do.
He'd have even been willing to become a billionaire, as long as he could have a superpower.
But the heavens had completely ignored him, and even kicked him a couple of times for good measure.
He never expected the opportunity to be right in front of him after he crossed over!
So that power inside me is magic?
Professor McGonagall smiled faintly and pulled a thick parchment letter from her pocket.
The envelope was addressed in emerald-green ink:
To Mr. Charlie White
Bethnal Green Road Orphanage, East London
Second floor, third dormitory on the left
"This is your Hogwarts Acceptance Letter," Professor McGonagall said, handing it to him.
"You're eleven this year, the right age to start."
Charlie took the envelope. The parchment felt unusual, ancient and substantial to the touch.
He opened it, and his eyes widened at the contents:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr. White,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...
Below the letter was a long list of required supplies: a wand, a cauldron, an owl, and so on.
Looking at those familiar yet unfamiliar words, Charlie was completely convinced.
This really was the world of Harry Potter.
"Well, what do you think? Would you like to come with me to Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall asked gently.
Charlie nodded without hesitation. "Of course!"
As if he'd say no to that. Magic! Who wouldn't want to learn magic?
A crime boss? He didn't even know the guy.
If he could use magic, why would he go be a street thug?
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