Ezio was ready to leave. Before setting out, he had taken care of everything necessary.
He deleted the email and logged out of his account. He destroyed the computer's hard drive and erased as many traces as possible. In a world without advanced artificial intelligence, that was more than enough to cover his tracks.
Besides the Broken Spear the system had just rewarded him with, Ezio had prepared other tools to take along.
A pair of Hidden Blades, a dozen throwing knives, a miniature crossbow and bolts, several smoke bombs, flashbangs, potent poison, anesthetics, and other odds and ends. He also had an Assassin's Cloak, a system reward that significantly reduced his presence when he wore the hood, and, of course, a gunsmith-modified Ingram Mac-11 submachine gun with a suppressor.
As a modern assassin, Ezio had no qualms about using firearms. At a concealed training ground not far from home, he had fired at least thirty thousand rounds with precision. He excelled with every weapon, from handguns to sniper rifles.
Sometimes a gun was more useful than a throwing knife or a Hidden Blade.
Ezio took two buckets of low-temperature-stored gasoline from the tool shed and carried them through every corner of the house. He savored one last moment with the smiles and laughter Giovanni had left behind in the house. Before he knew it, his eyes had grown slightly damp.
But he had to say goodbye. He couldn't let anyone find him. With his current abilities, he had no confidence he could kill the enemy who might come after him. He had enjoyed too much of an advantage against Snape by striking first; if a wizard was prepared, Ezio would have a hard time dealing with him.
Erasing his tracks was essential. After all, the person who had killed Giovanni was most likely a wizard, and wizards could search people's memories. Ezio wasn't a wizard. He was just an agile ordinary man, albeit one with some highly refined assassination skills.
Ten minutes after Snape left, Ezio had finished all his preparations. He laid a trail of gasoline from the doorway and gazed silently at the house before him, filled with his memories and happiness.
"You don't have to do this, my boy."
A hoarse yet gentle voice sounded from behind Ezio. Though his abilities were now on par with those of his father, Giovanni, he hadn't even noticed when the newcomer had arrived.
But he didn't spin around on instinct. He simply stood where he was without saying a word.
After a long moment, Ezio silently took out a box of matches and struck one.
In an instant, flames raced forward, forming a line of fire dozens of meters long. Gasoline evaporated easily. Though the gasoline he had poured inside had been kept at a low temperature to reduce its volatility, it could still explode when it came into contact with fire. Keeping his distance was a necessary safety measure.
"Are you saying you can protect me?"
Ezio turned around. Behind him, the fire had spread in a matter of moments. It wouldn't be long before the burning house became a pile of ruins.
He saw an old man standing five meters behind him. His long, silvery-white beard was handsome and swayed gently in the breeze. Behind his half-moon spectacles, a pair of clear, bright blue eyes looked back at him.
"Yes, my boy. As long as you attend Hogwarts, I can guarantee that no one will hurt you."
"But I'll graduate eventually, won't I?" Ezio said calmly. "I have to take responsibility for my future self, right, Headmaster Dumbledore?"
"We can never know what the future holds. I understand how you feel, my boy."
Dumbledore nodded. He didn't disagree with Ezio; there was some truth in what he said, and it was a very practical truth. He understood better than most how cruel society could be.
"I came here to ask you a question."
"Go ahead, Headmaster Dumbledore."
"If you find the person who killed your father, what do you plan to do?"
"An eye for an eye. What's wrong with that?"
"But what if your father was the one who threatened them first?"
"Then I'll wait for them to take revenge on me. Things always need an ending. It might be good or bad, but someone always has to pay the price."
That answer didn't satisfy Dumbledore. He saw the boy's stubbornness, and he saw his resolve.
"If the most important person in your life died under mysterious circumstances, wouldn't you want to find out the truth?"
Ezio raised his head and looked at Dumbledore. The purity and clarity in his eyes struck Dumbledore to the heart. He, too, had once lost a beloved family member. Even after all these years, the loss remained a thorn in his heart, aching whenever it was touched.
Ariana...
Dumbledore silently spoke her name in his heart. His throat felt dry.
"I don't know." Dumbledore slowly shook his head. He didn't want to speak of it or even think about it. Everyone had a different personality and different experiences, so naturally they made different choices.
"But I know. I know what I should do. If Giovanni hadn't carried me home from the snow, I would have frozen to death outside the orphanage ten years ago. He saved my life and gave me a happy, wonderful life. But now I can't care for him in his old age, or lay a bouquet of flowers at his grave."
"But what if one day your biological—"
Before Dumbledore could finish, Ezio cut him off.
"Are you sure you want to ask me anything about the two people who tried to kill me ten years ago? Perhaps you didn't hear me earlier. It was winter, in the cold month of December. They decided to kill me and tried their hardest to do it. They nearly succeeded. I wasn't even six months old when Giovanni found me."
An appeal to sentiment had no effect on Ezio. Even if Dumbledore really did find his biological parents from this life, Ezio wouldn't want to look at them, not even once.
Dumbledore was at a loss for words. This wasn't the answer he had wanted to hear, but he had no way to refute it. It was a brutal reality, utterly true.
"Then did you come here to ask me to study at your school? Or did you just come to watch the show?"
"If you came to watch the show, please leave. I need to go to London and find somewhere to stay."
"I did come to invite you to study at Hogwarts." Dumbledore sighed inwardly. "But I need you to make me a promise."
"I won't attack any of my classmates at school. Even if they offend me, I'll only retaliate in a reasonable manner."
Ezio answered without hesitation. He knew what Dumbledore wanted him to promise. "My hands are clean. I haven't spilled a drop of blood. Oh, right—except for Professor Snape. I mistook him for a bad guy."
"Very well. Severus... He was furious when he went back." Dumbledore spread his hands helplessly. When Snape had returned to see him, he'd been gritting his teeth and throwing a fit.
"Looks like we've come to a happy agreement."
Ezio glanced at Dumbledore. "So we're leaving now, right? Wizards can teleport, and they can take people with them, can't they?"
"Of course. But before that, I have something for you. You've read your admission letter, haven't you? There's one thing it didn't mention: Hogwarts provides financial aid to students from families in need." Dumbledore handed him a small money pouch. It seemed to contain quite a few coins; they clinked as he passed it over.
"Thank you, but may I ask—does the wizarding world accept pounds or gold?"
"We use Galleons, Silver Sickles, and Knuts. Gringotts Wizarding Bank offers currency exchange services, though. Hogwarts students can exchange up to a hundred pounds' worth each year. Goblins are very fond of gold, so there's no limit on exchanging gold for Galleons."
"Come along, take my arm." Dumbledore held out his left arm. "We can go to Diagon Alley now."
Ezio whistled, and Neil swooped down. A moment later, the two men and the bird vanished.
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