Dumbledore showed neither shock nor condemnation. He merely gazed quietly at Lin Du, his azure eyes holding an indescribably complex emotion—something like understanding, yet also something like a deeper sorrow.
After a long while, he finally spoke slowly, his voice so calm that it did not carry the slightest ripple:
"An ancient and immensely tempting goal. Then, in all these years of exploration, especially after you began focusing on Dark Magic research, have you found any... promising paths? Even if only theoretical possibilities?"
At that question, the oppressive air around Lin Du, born of having exposed his secret, suddenly vanished.
It was as if he had switched states in an instant, becoming once more that wizard with a touch of indifference and sharp insight. The corner of his mouth even lifted into a self-mocking curve.
"Findings?" He gave a soft snort.
"Nothing more than the two textbook examples—the Philosopher's Stone and Horcruxes. Is there even a third?"
"The Philosopher's Stone..." Dumbledore mused, a complicated emotion toward his old friend's creation appearing in his eyes. "Nicol's masterpiece is indeed the most 'harmless' known route to immortality."
"Harmless, but also hopelessly out of reach," Lin Du cut in.
"I know exactly how skilled I am at alchemy. Creating an alchemical item on the level of American Iaijutsu is about my limit. Replicating or even surpassing the Philosopher's Stone? That road is essentially blocked off to me. I don't have centuries to slowly study it."
Dumbledore nodded slightly, seeming to agree with his assessment. Then his blue eyes sharpened as he asked softly, "Then... what about Horcruxes?"
"Horcruxes?" Lin Du sneered, making no attempt to hide his distaste. "Secrets of Advanced Dark Magic spells it out clearly enough. Tear apart your soul through murder... It sounds simple, doesn't it?"
"It certainly is simple," Dumbledore answered calmly, his gaze meaningful behind his half-moon glasses.
"From a technical perspective, creating a Horcrux requires less exceptional magical skill than the resolve to abandon certain moral boundaries."
He leaned forward slightly. "Since you consider this method so simple and direct, why haven't you tried it?"
"I'm not insane to that extent!" Lin Du shot Dumbledore a helpless look. "Headmaster, you know perfectly well why."
He casually played with his teacup, his tone carrying a hint of self-mockery. "Sealing part of yourself inside an object. In theory, it's quite the perfect evil solution to immortality."
"But what's the price?" He set down the teacup, his expression turning serious. "I admit I'm no saint, and I've crossed plenty of taboos while researching Dark Magic. But murder... that's an entirely different matter. Not only would I have to take a life, I'd have to tear apart my own soul with my own hands at that very moment."
He shook his head, as though trying to fling away the unpleasant image. "Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl. It would be a complete betrayal of myself."
Dumbledore listened quietly, his gaze gentle.
"Besides," Lin Du's tone suddenly became lighter, with a trace of teasing, "look at our dear Mr. Voldemort—from a handsome, brilliant young man to a noseless snake-faced monster. That price alone is horrifying enough. What's even more absurd is that splitting his soul seemed to split his intelligence along with it. He actually scattered something as important as Horcruxes all over the place."
He made a helpless gesture. "For immortality, not only would I have to become a murderer, I'd have to turn into a noseless, muddleheaded monster... No matter how you look at it, that's a terrible bargain."
"A very wise choice." A flicker of approval passed through Dumbledore's eyes.
The office fell quiet for a moment. Then Lin Du suddenly scratched his hair in frustration.
"To be honest, Headmaster," he said, staring at his own hands, "sometimes when I can't sleep in the middle of the night, I think about how there might be a ready-made Horcrux hidden somewhere in the castle... and it drives me crazy. If I'd known, I should've waited a few more days before telling you. Maybe I could've figured something out..."
He let out a heavy breath, as if trying to expel all those wicked thoughts. "Isn't that thought especially awful?"
Before Dumbledore could answer, Lin Du gave a derisive laugh. "Sometimes I really don't understand that stupid hat. Look at me now—I keep circling around Dark Magic for a bit of knowledge, and I'll research anything for immortality. If you ask me, I'm a Slytherin to the core."
Dumbledore gently set down his teacup, its base striking the saucer with a crisp sound.
"You know, Lin Du," he said softly, yet his voice made Lin Du straighten instinctively, "just now, you told me that you regretted something."
Lin Du froze.
"You regretted telling me about the Basilisk too early. You regretted missing the chance to study a Horcrux." Dumbledore's blue eyes gleamed behind his half-moon lenses.
"But do you know? A true Slytherin would never regret such things. They would naturally put themselves first, weighing everyone else's safety on a scale."
He leaned forward, his voice gentle yet unquestionable:
"And you, despite your regret, despite longing for that opportunity to study it—you still chose to inform me at the first possible moment. Between thought and action, you chose the harder path. That is why the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor."
Lin Du opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed the words.
He rubbed his brow irritably.
"Besides," Dumbledore said, his gaze drifting toward the window, "a spirit beast like Chao Feng understands the essence of souls better than any of us. Its choice of you is the best proof."
Lin Du remained silent for a long time.
At last, he sighed, his tone carrying a resigned helplessness. "So you're saying I'll never become a qualified Dark wizard in this life?"
"I'm very glad that you're so 'unqualified.'" Dumbledore nodded slightly, his gaze behind the half-moon glasses deepening.
"In fact, it was precisely this 'lack of qualification' that finally made me decide. To be honest, just an hour ago, I was still hesitating over whether to let you take part in this matter."
He pulled open his desk drawer and took out a silver glove, putting it on with slow, deliberate movements.
When his fingers touched something deep inside the drawer, Lin Du noticed a trace of gravity pass over the old man's brow.
Using that gloved hand, Dumbledore took out a black Diary and placed it in the very center of the desk.
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