Big Shopping Spree

Thinking of this, Tom cast a sidelong glance at Albus Dumbledore, his eyes filled with an indescribable pity. This old man looked polished and respectable on the surface, yet in private, he was as lonely as a stray dog with no home, lacking even a single person to speak his true heart to. How pathetic and laughable.

The two didn't speak again for the rest of the way, and Dumbledore finally dropped Tom off at the entrance of Wool's Orphanage.

"I look forward to our next meeting, Mr. Riddle." Dumbledore waved his wand with a gentle smile. Tom kept his hands in his pockets and tilted his chin up. "Same here, Professor."

I hope it's not too frequent, though, he grumbled inwardly. Being watched by you every day makes it impossible to slack off, and there's no fun in living like that.

Watching Dumbledore's figure disappear completely into the thick fog at the street corner, Tom turned and entered the building. Arman had already prepared a simple dinner and was getting ready to clock out.

In the dining room, Seth and three other boys who had arrived recently were shoveling food into their mouths. Seeing Tom enter, Seth immediately stopped his chopsticks and obsequiously pushed over a plate piled high with food, featuring a large piece of steak and creamy mashed potatoes sprinkled with chopped parsley.

The three new problem children, upon catching sight of Tom, acted like mice seeing a cat; they finished their meal, quickly cleared their plates, and scurried back to their rooms, leaving only the two of them in the dining room.

"Boss, are you really going to that old man with the white beard's school?" Seth leaned in, his eyes full of curiosity and reluctance. "I've never even heard of that school. You're the top of the class in both academics and fighting; you could easily get into Harrow or Eton. Why go to such a dump?"

Tom took a large bite of steak and retorted vaguely, "Cut the crap, that's none of your business. Remember, if your grades drop while I'm gone, I'll deal with you when I get back for the holidays."

Seth shrank his neck, not daring to argue, though he felt indignant on Tom's behalf: It must be that the tuition at that dump is too expensive, forcing the boss to have no other choice. How despicable.

Tom had no interest in guessing his lackey's thoughts; his mind was filled with Dumbledore's instructions: he could not tell Muggles about the wizarding world, nor could he allow magical items to flow into the Muggle world.

He was currently a powerless new student with no leverage to fight against the rules, so he had no choice but to obey for now. After finishing his meal, Tom cleared the dishes.

Back in his cramped bedroom, he closed the door and immediately perked up, whispering, "Open system panel." A pale blue light screen appeared out of thin air, and Tom leaned in to study this long-awaited system.

The Strongest Learning System was, to put it bluntly, just a tool to help him become a top student—utterly boring. Tom curled his lip in disdain: Other people's systems are either world-destroying or wealth-generating, but mine just forces me to study diligently, not even allowing me to slack off. What rotten luck.

Complaints aside, he patiently read through it bit by bit. The core mechanism of the system was simple: any behavior related to learning that yielded actual gains—whether reading books, practicing spells, or researching magical theory—would earn corresponding credits.

The uses for credits were not overly complex, mainly serving two core functions: first, spending credits to hire private tutors, with the first hour of each day being free, and six credits required for every hour thereafter;

Second, spending credits to enter an "extraordinary state," which significantly boosted learning efficiency and cognitive speed, similar to a "minor epiphany." This cost one hundred credits for ten minutes, and if one wanted to extend the duration, it cost an additional ten credits per minute.

Beyond credits, there were more important achievement points, earned by reaching milestones and completing tasks, which were currently only used for selecting teachers.

The points varied wildly by rank: B-rank ordinary wizard, 1 point; A-rank excellent wizard, 10 points; S-rank King-level wizard, 100 points; SS-rank Epoch-level wizard, 1,000 points; SSS-rank Eternal Saint, 5,000 points.

Tom understood clearly: thirty years made a generation, and King-level wizards were the pinnacle of this era; one hundred years made a century, and Epoch-level wizards were the strongest of the century—Albus Dumbledore certainly qualified; Eternal Saints were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, with very few in the history of the wizarding world.

As he pondered, a "Newbie Gift Pack" popped up in the center of the light screen. Tom's eyes lit up, and he immediately clicked it with his mind. A system prompt sounded: [Congratulations to the host for receiving 100 credits and one free summon of a private tutor (minimum King-level wizard rank).]

Tom raised an eyebrow, muttering to himself: How is this free teacher supposed to be brought over? Surely they can't just be teleported here? Driven by curiosity, he claimed the reward.

A brilliant golden light instantly filled the room, and Tom felt a wave of dizziness. When he regained his senses, he was standing in a space shrouded in misty fog.

It was absurdly realistic; he could clearly perceive his body still lying on the bed. The system explained at the right moment: [This is the learning space. Time flows at the same rate as the outside world. Energy consumed during learning does not affect reality. Teaching aids and books can be manifested.]

Tom narrowed his eyes: So I can study here all night and still be refreshed in the morning? The only catch is that entering costs credits, and these 100 credits probably won't last long. It seems I'll have to earn credits obediently.

After understanding the rules, Tom looked around for the teacher, grumbling, "A King-level wizard, I hope it's not some pathetic loser, or it'll be a huge waste."

Just then, a hearty, bold laugh echoed through the mist, shaking the fog: "Hahahaha! Interesting, interesting!"

The mist in front of Tom dissipated by more than half, and his field of vision doubled. In the distance, a tall, imposing figure was striding toward him, each step landing with such steady force that the ground seemed to vibrate slightly.

Soon, the man broke through the final layer of mist and stood firmly before Tom.

He wore a white, draped robe from the Athenian period of Ancient Greece. The fabric was thin, leaving most of his robust, firm muscles exposed, with lines as smooth as a sculpture. He wore a laurel wreath symbolizing honor, his features were sharp and resolute, and his eyes were as bright as torches—he looked exactly like a god who had walked out of an ancient Greek statue.

His entire being radiated a powerful masculine aura, a presence so strong it made one hesitant to look directly at him.

The man looked around the space with curiosity before finally settling his gaze on Tom, his smile deepening: "You are the little wizard who summoned me? Astonishing talent, to actually awaken my soul that has been dormant for so many years, and this solid contract... your good fortune makes even me envious."

The jealousy in his tone was undisguised, but Tom wasn't flustered at all; the system had already stated that those who entered the space could not harm him and would teach him everything they knew.

Besides, this man's temperament was as upright as light; compared to him, Albus Dumbledore seemed quite cunning.

Tom kept his hands in his pockets, tilted his chin up, and retorted, "Sir, before asking questions, shouldn't you introduce yourself first?"

The system is also playing games, not even telling me who the teacher is. A waste of time, he thought. The man paused, then burst into loud laughter, patting his forehead: "Hahaha! You're right, it is my discourtesy." He stepped forward and reached out a hand, his smile sincere: "My name is Andros."