Over the next two days, life at the orphanage seemed to sink into an eerie calm. Tom no longer took the initiative to speak to Ares, but the cold scrutiny and deliberate distance had vanished. A subtle balance formed between them: they ate at the same table and lived in the same room, yet remained silent, communicating only through their eyes and the smallest of movements.
[Host, the target seems to have entered "observation mode" (′?_?`). He's secretly studying you!]
The system was right. Ares could feel Tom's obsidian-like eyes falling on him whenever he was not paying attention, carrying an almost academic focus, as though Tom intended to thoroughly dissect him, this "abnormal specimen."
Ares was not in a hurry. He kept the task of "nonverbal interaction" firmly in mind and patiently waited for an opportunity.
On the first day, while dinner was being served, he took advantage of no one watching to quietly nudge the only small piece of overcooked carrot in his bowl to the edge of Tom's bowl with his spoon. Tom paused, glanced at the orange vegetable, then at Ares. A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes, but he said nothing and silently ate the carrot.
[(???) Effective Nonverbal Interaction (2/3)! Great job, Host! Feeding successful!]
On the second day, they had their so-called "outdoor activity"—which really meant being driven outside to find something to do. Tom habitually headed for the quiet corner where he often stayed, where a pile of discarded bricks and stones lay. Ares followed him but did not approach. He merely found a stone some distance away and sat down, then took a short, secretly stashed piece of chalk from his pocket—actually from the system space—and quietly began drawing on a flat stone surface.
He drew Hogwarts Castle beneath a night sky, its spires rising high and warm light shining from its windows. Though his strokes were childish, the outline was still vaguely recognizable.
Tom had initially ignored him, but when the familiar outline of the castle entered the corner of his eye, his body stiffened almost imperceptibly. He recognized that place. In those fragmented dreams about being "different," that castle had appeared. He abruptly turned his head, his sharp gaze falling on Ares and the drawing before him.
Ares did not look up. He simply focused on adding the final stroke of starlight, then lightly wiped away the castle with his finger, as though it had merely been a casual, meaningless doodle. He rose, dusted off his hands, gave Tom a faint smile that was almost impossible to notice, then turned and walked away.
Tom stood where he was, staring at the smudged stone surface before looking at Ares's retreating back. His brow furrowed tightly. A seed of doubt took root in his heart, mixed with an indescribable flutter at having his deepest secret touched.
[Ding! ?(???)? Effective Nonverbal Interaction (3/3)! Mission "Silent Alliance" complete! Reward: Beginner Physique Enhancement (stabilized), 5 gold coins issued! Doesn't Host feel absolutely fantastic?]
Feeling the vitality within him genuinely strengthen by a little, Ares let out a breath of relief. The three-step mission was complete. At least he had opened things up.
However, the calm was shattered on the afternoon of the third day.
Ares was helping wash rags in the washroom when the system suddenly sounded an alarm in his mind.
[Alert! Alert! (╯°Д°)╯︵ /(.□ . \) The target has encountered an emergency! Severe emotional fluctuations! Risk of magical loss of control! Location: dormitory!]
Ares's heart tightened. He immediately put everything down and hurried back to the dormitory. The moment he pushed open the door, he saw Tom standing with his back to the entrance, his body trembling slightly with rage. His bed had been turned into a mess, several drawers violently pulled open, their miscellaneous contents scattered across the floor.
Albert, the ringleader from yesterday, stood smugly in the middle of the room, holding something high in his hand—a worn, old-fashioned Silver Pendant that seemed to bear some sort of crest.
"Look what I found! Riddell, you've been stealing things! Which lady did you steal this from? Or did your crazy mother leave it for you?" Albert sneered maliciously, while several boys stood nearby to watch the show.
Tom spun around. His face held a cold, nearly tangible killing intent that Ares had never seen before. His eyes were terrifyingly dark. The air around him began to distort, and an empty cup on the table made a strained cracking sound as several fissures spread across it.
"Give it back." Tom's voice was terrifyingly low, every word seemingly forced through clenched teeth.
"Give it back? I'm handing it over to Mrs. Cole! Let's see what happens to a monster like you then!" Albert was fearless, convinced that Tom would not dare use "magic" in front of so many people.
Ares knew this could not continue. Tom's magic was on the verge of losing control. If it erupted, the consequences would be unimaginable, and it would completely cement his reputation as a "monster."
Taking a deep breath, he did not directly use magic as he had last time. Instead, he strode into the room and, under everyone's astonished gazes, walked straight up to Albert.
"Albert," Ares said. His voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear. "Aren't you afraid Mrs. Cole will find out that you broke her favorite vase?"
Albert froze and instinctively retorted, "What nonsense are you talking about? When did I..."
"Just now, in the backyard." Ares cut him off. His mismatched eyes watched Albert calmly, yet his gaze carried an unquestionable force. "I saw it. You kicked the ball onto the windowsill, the vase fell and shattered, and you even kicked the pieces into the grass."
He spoke as though it were all true, with clear details. Of course, it was nonsense—material for "improvisation" the system had provided after scanning the backyard.
Albert's face changed at once. Mrs. Cole really did have a beloved vase on the backyard windowsill, and he really had been kicking a ball in the backyard that day... Had he truly knocked it over by accident? He began to panic.
"Y-you're lying!" Albert said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Whether I'm lying or not, we'll know if we go look." Ares's tone remained calm. "Or we can go tell Mrs. Cole right now and see who she believes. Someone who might have broken her vase and lied about it, or us?" He deliberately emphasized the word "us," his gaze meaningfully sweeping toward Tom.
It was a naked threat and exchange.
Albert looked into Ares's eyes, which seemed able to see through everything, then at Tom beside him, whose icy gaze made him look ready to pounce at any moment. A chill ran through Albert. He weighed the options—betting on whether he would be punished for breaking a vase over some worthless pendant of unknown origin was simply not worth it.
"Hmph! You got lucky!" Albert barked, trying to sound fierce despite his fear. He resentfully threw the pendant onto the floor, then hurried out of the dormitory with the other boys, who were equally guilty-looking. It seemed they really were anxious to check on the vase in the backyard.
Only Ares and Tom remained in the dormitory.
Tom did not immediately pick up the pendant. First, he stared fixedly at the doorway, making sure Albert and the others had truly left. Only then did he slowly turn his gaze to Ares. That look was incredibly complicated—shock, confusion, scrutiny, and a trace of the embarrassment of having the thing he treasured most seen through.
Ares said nothing. He simply walked over, bent down, and picked up the small Silver Pendant. It was cold to the touch, and he could feel an extremely faint trace of magical fluctuation belonging to Tom lingering on it. He held the pendant out to Tom.
Tom did not take it immediately. He looked at Ares's open palm, at the pendant that meant so much to him resting in it, then at Ares's calm mismatched eyes.
Silence spread between them.
After several seconds, Tom finally reached out and almost roughly snatched the pendant back from Ares's hand. He clenched it tightly in his palm, his knuckles turning white with force. It was the only keepsake his mother had left him, his sole fragile connection to the "wizarding world" he hated and secretly yearned for.
"Why did you help me?" Tom finally asked. His voice was hoarse, carrying a trace of wavering that even he had not noticed. He no longer asked, "What did you do?" Instead, he asked, "Why?"
Ares looked at him, knowing this was a crucial moment. He raised his hand again. Rather than using gestures, he pointed first to Tom's hand clutching the pendant, then to his own heart, and finally pressed two fingers together in the gesture that meant "together."
This time, his gaze was utterly serious. We are the same kind. I will help protect the things you cherish. We can face this together.
Tom understood. The hand gripping the pendant trembled slightly, and the ice in his dark eyes seemed to crack more deeply. He did not press further, nor did he offer thanks. He merely looked deeply at Ares, as if trying to carve his appearance into his mind. Then he turned around, carefully hid the pendant again, and silently began tidying his ransacked bed.
But this time, his back no longer seemed to carry the same complete, isolating loneliness that kept everyone a thousand miles away.
Watching Tom's busy back, Ares said to the system in his heart, "Looks like the relationship of 'accomplices' has been established, at least for now."
[That's right, Host! (??????)?? You're good partners now! You scared off bad guys together and protected a secret together! Your revolutionary friendship has ascended!] [New mission issued: Cornerstone of Trust!] [Mission requirement: Make the target voluntarily share a secret about himself with you—either his abilities or his origins.] [Mission reward: Magic Perception Enhancement, Introduction to Ancient Runes.]
Seeing the difficulty of the new mission rise sharply, Ares was not surprised. Getting Tom Riddle to voluntarily share a secret? That was likely one of the hardest challenges on this path.
Yet as he looked at Tom's no-longer-so-tense back and felt the invisible bond called "conspiracy" beginning to form between them, a trace of confidence rose in his heart.
A towering building began on level ground. Let the cornerstone of trust be built from this small pendant, brick by brick.
Before you continue