Fight Tom

The Gryffindor common room was warm as spring under the heat of the fireplace, while temperatures outside the castle had dropped below freezing.

Voldemort, whose identity had been exposed by Zhang San at the very start of term and who had fled Hogwarts, no longer had any loyal servants to wait on him. He could only rely on his immortal soul to struggle through the wilderness.

He could also possess the bodies of animals. Ghost possession seemed to be an innate talent of all independently existing souls. Even though Voldemort had never studied orthodox ghost-cultivation spells, the strength of a legendary dark wizard's soul was enough for him to seize an animal's body.

Voldemort's favorite creatures were snakes. So after taking over the body of a python, old Voldemort began his wilderness survival journey.

As everyone knew, snakes needed to hibernate. Before the bitter winter arrived, Voldemort had truly endured a difficult time.

Old Voldemort was suffering! He had clearly infiltrated Hogwarts and was only one step away from obtaining the Philosopher's Stone. Yet a young wizard had suddenly appeared and ruined everything, exposing that idiot Quirrell's identity the moment he opened his mouth.

His plan to steal the Philosopher's Stone had failed, and the puppet he had finally found had been sent to Azkaban. When Voldemort fled Hogwarts Castle, he had seemed imposing and intimidating, but only he knew how weak he truly was.

Although that damned young wizard was already dead, his great plan of resurrection had failed as well.

Hatred! Hatred! Hatred!

Voldemort hated Quirrell, hated Harry Potter, hated Dumbledore, hated that damned young wizard... He wanted revenge. He wanted Harry Potter dead, and Dumbledore dead.

He was no longer the Dark Lord whose name terrified all. He was merely a soul clinging to life inside a python's body. He needed to recover his strength. He needed to make a comeback.

Just as Voldemort lay starving in an underground burrow, Zhang San keenly sensed the hatred coming from old Voldemort.

As a soul body, his perception of the outside world was exceptionally sharp. Freed from the shackles of flesh, any disturbance in external information could stir a feeling within Zhang San.

"Who's cursing me?" Zhang San muttered with a frown.

He pinched his fingers and calculated... and got absolutely nothing. Zhang San had never learned divination in the first place. He had once been a complete brute. When he found the bamboo, he had only taken shortcuts using the Dragon-Seeking Formula and a treasure-seeking compass. Asking him to actually divine anything was simply impossible.

"I, Zhang San, have always treated others kindly. Why would anyone still bear ill will toward me?" Zhang San shook his head in confusion, then set the matter aside.

In his neither-living-nor-dead state, so long as he did not encounter a Taoist specialized in dealing with him, no one in the world could hurt him.

Zhang San had already tested his resistance to magic. Spells were ineffective, potions were ineffective, and Transfiguration was equally ineffective. Even if Voldemort came himself, Zhang San could ignore his prized Avada Kedavra and give him a couple of resounding slaps.

Just as Zhang San was puzzling over it alone, Harry and Ron came looking for him.

"Siri, is there a game that three people can play together?" Harry asked listlessly.

"You've come to the right person. I can teach you a brand-new card game called Fight Tom," Zhang San said.

The two stared at each other. "Who's Tom? Why are we fighting him?"

Zhang San used his wand to write "Tom Riddle" in elegant English lettering in the air, then broke it apart and rearranged it into a new line of English words—"I am Voldemort."

Harry and Ron both gasped. "Voldemort's real name is Tom Riddle?"

"That's right. This card game, Fight Tom, teaches us a lesson—in the face of Voldemort, don't charge in alone. You need to fight him two against one, in the name of justice," Zhang San said righteously.

The two immediately became interested. They could not care less about ordinary card games, but if it was about fighting Voldemort, then they definitely had to learn it properly.

"Fight Tom requires three players. One player plays Tom, while the other two play Aurors. Since Tom is Voldemort and is powerful, he gets to draw three extra hole cards. Tom is on his own, while the two Aurors team up to fight Tom. Whichever side gets rid of all their cards first wins," Zhang San briefly explained the rules.

Fight Tom was essentially China's Fight the Landlord. It was somewhat inappropriate to explain Fight the Landlord to people in the wizarding world. So Zhang San had a flash of inspiration: he replaced the landlord with Tom Riddle and the farmers with Aurors.

What did it mean to adapt to local conditions?

This was what it meant to adapt to local conditions!

Zhang San also gave all the card combinations and game terms magical makeovers:

A single card became a single-target spell, a pair became dual casting, three-with-one or three-with-two became spell guidance, a straight was called a spell combo, consecutive pairs were called a resonance sequence, an airplane with wings was called combination magic, a bomb was called a magical tide burst, and a king bomb was called legendary magic.

Calling landlord became revealing the Dark Mark, bidding for landlord became competing for a Horcrux, playing cards became casting spells, and passing became Apparition (skip turn).

Zhang San used Transfiguration to make an ordinary deck of cards. They found a coffee table in the common room and began playing Fight Tom with Harry and Ron.

Once they were seated, they discovered a very awkward problem—Zhang San could not draw or play cards. He was a ghost and could not touch physical playing cards.

"This is really awkward..." Zhang San said through gritted teeth as he rubbed his hands together. Then he suddenly had an idea, darted into the corridor, and dragged back a passing Peeves.

Harry and Ron were horrified. "How did you get him into the common room? Professor McGonagall will lose her temper if she finds out."

Peeves was already considered a public menace at Hogwarts. He was practically the school's resident troublemaker—impossible to defeat and impossible to drive away, making him extremely difficult to deal with.

"Peeves can touch physical objects. I'll just control him and have him play cards for me," Zhang San said.

Ron said with cold sweat covering his forehead, "Are you sure Peeves won't turn the common room into a complete mess?"

"He's already under my control, just like when I controlled Hermione that day," Zhang San said.

Peeves was a special ghost. He was an aggregate of the mischievous spirits of Hogwarts students, and something like him was naturally restrained by ghost cultivators like Zhang San. Zhang San found possessing Peeves even easier than possessing Crookshanks.

Thus, Harry and Ron could only suppress their panic and play cards with Peeves. Under Zhang San's powerful control, Peeves did not cause any trouble in the Gryffindor common room.

Whenever a Gryffindor student passed through the common room, they would be startled.

Heavens, earth, Merlin... Peeves was actually playing cards with Harry and Ron?

"Spell Combo!"

"I'll beat that!"

"Apparition!"

"Magical Tide Burst!"

Harry and Ron picked it up quickly, especially Ron Weasley, known as Gryffindor's chess champion. He swiftly grasped the essence of card counting and probability calculation, and his win rate immediately climbed.

"How are you so good at this?" Harry asked Ron, his face full of shock.

Ron scratched his head. "I just felt like this was how the cards should be played, and then I won..."

Zhang San casually tossed his cards onto the table, fished a Dungbomb out of Peeves's pocket, gripped it tightly in his hand, and recited flatly, "I'm Peeves. I'm going to pull a prank!"

Harry: ???

Ron: !!!

Come on, man? Were you really such a sore loser? How could anyone resort to such despicable tactics?

Oh... Zhang San wasn't human?

Then it was fine.