Chapter 88: Improving the Environment
Summer nights at Wools Orphanage were always stifling, thick with heat and the endless whine of mosquitoes.
Tamara Riddle sat at a rickety old wooden table.
She was in no rush to begin. Instead, she narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked at the translucent light screen visible only to her.
That was the result of her first year of labor.
[Current Attribute Panel]
[Wisdom: 31]
[Courage: 27]
[Love: 20]
[Life: 17]
Tamara's gaze swept over the Love attribute, and a sarcastic curve touched the corner of her mouth.
Although the name of that attribute was idiotic, she had to admit that the spell it unlocked, Stupefy, was currently one of the most useful tools in her arsenal.
Her eyes moved downward, passing over passive deception skills such as [Harmless], [Magical Creature Affinity], and [Dictator's Sophistry], before finally settling on the golden text at the bottom.
[Special Constitution: golden bloodline]
[Source: Philosopher's Stone Essence.]
[Effect: Alchemical Blood, Longevity Potion conversion.]
That made her feel much better.
Even if she were buried in mud, as long as she held this power in her hands, she had every confidence she could return to the summit.
She steadied herself and fixed her gaze on the old tin pot before her.
The table was strewn with cheap materials scavenged from Diagon Alley a few days earlier: dried porcupine quills, a few shriveled Flobberworms, and a small bottle of cloudy Lacewing Fly juice.
"Meow-ow!"
A sharp, slightly deranged yowl shattered the silence.
The black cat Tamara had brought back from Hogwarts was perched atop the wardrobe, staring fixedly at the purple smoke rising from the cauldron. Its eyes were wide, and a threatening growl rumbled in its throat.
"Shut up, Nagini II," Tamara said without turning around.
"If you drop another hair into my cauldron, I'll turn you into a table."
The black cat shrank back, as if it understood the threat, but the mania in its eyes did not fade. If anything, it seemed to intensify.
Tamara shot it a look of disgust.
This stupid cat.
Ever since buying it, she had tried to train it, even giving it the name that had once belonged to her most loyal companion: Nagini.
Unfortunately, this cat not only lacked Nagini's intelligence, it was astonishingly stupid.
Ninety percent of the time, it behaved like a brainless fool. It would stare at dust in the corner all day, or chase its own tail until it got dizzy and vomited.
But during the remaining ten percent, it transformed into a complete lunatic.
It would suddenly bristle and shriek at empty air as if reciting dark curses, or throw itself at her and start licking her face.
"Each generation is worse than the last."
Tamara shook her head, no longer bothering with the crazy creature, and turned her attention back to the cauldron.
Now came the critical moment.
The potion inside was a revolting grayish brown.
It was a failed Healing Potion, or rather, because the ingredients were so poor, it was nothing more than bitter water with a faint antiseptic effect.
"Perfect for testing."
Tamara drew a silver knife from her sleeve.
She took a breath. A trace of fanaticism flickered in her eyes.
The blade slid across her pale fingertip.
A single bright red drop welled up.
But this blood was different from ordinary blood.
Under the dim candlelight, its color looked unnaturally deep, as clear as ruby. At its core, a faint golden gleam flowed almost invisibly.
Golden bloodline.
That was the essence of the Philosopher's Stone fragments, the ember of eternal life.
The droplet fell into the cauldron.
No explosion followed.
But the reaction was even more violent than an explosion.
The lifeless liquid began boiling at once with a crisp, chattering sound. The ugly grayish brown faded before her eyes, replaced by a pure, nearly transparent azure blue.
A rich, clean fragrance overflowing with vitality instantly filled the room.
What had been a worthless, inferior potion had become a top-tier Healing Potion.
"Perfect..."
Tamara stared at it, and a faint, intoxicated flush rose on her pale face.
Even with the worst possible ingredients, as long as that drop of blood served as a catalyst, the result could leap to an entirely different level.
That meant she could produce priceless potions at almost no cost.
"System."
She called inwardly, her tone carrying a rare trace of urgency.
"Explain the conversion mechanism of that Longevity Potion again."
[At your service anytime, honorable host.]
The system's voice was still so annoyingly cheerful it made her want to smash something.
[Based on the characteristics of the golden bloodline, you may convert a small bottle of ordinary water into a Longevity Potion through your blood.]
[Effect: The drinker can extend their natural lifespan by 1 year.]
[Restriction: This conversion may only be performed once every six months.]
One year.
Once every six months.
That meant if she converted it every half year and drank it herself, she could gain two extra years of life for every year that passed.
In theory, so long as the mechanism never failed, she had already obtained a kind of immortality.
Tamara studied the text, and for a moment her breathing quickened. It was the instinctive hunger to conquer death.
No need to split the soul. No need to create Horcruxes. Just drink water and continue living?
But the fanatic gleam in her eyes cooled just as quickly, replaced by a calm, arrogant clarity.
"Heh... crude."
She dismissed it inwardly.
This kind of life, maintained by a substance, was fragile as a candle in the wind.
It could extend a natural lifespan, yes, but it would not stop the Killing Curse, nor prevent accidents.
It was fundamentally different from the absolute immortality she pursued.
And besides...
Her gaze shifted to her reflection in the mirror.
She now possessed the most perfect youth in the world.
This body still had a full century to go before it needed to fear old age or death.
Using such a thing on herself now would not merely be pointless. It would be a waste.
"Useless to me, for now."
She made that judgment without hesitation.
"But..."
She narrowed her eyes, fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop in a measured rhythm.
"For those old relics who are half dead and terrified of dying..."
Especially the pure-blood patriarchs sitting in the Wizengamot, controlling vast wealth while waiting for death to claim them.
To them, a single year of life would be a miracle beyond price.
Used properly...
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A series of crude knocks rattled the door, followed by the administrator's rasping voice cutting straight through the wood.
"Riddle! What in hell are you doing in there? I smell something strange! Put that fire out now, or don't expect any supper tomorrow!"
Tamara frowned in disgust.
She already felt tempted to teach the shrieking woman outside a lesson.
Then, without warning, a drop of filthy cold water fell from the ceiling and struck the bridge of her nose.
Tamara's expression froze.
Slowly, she looked up at the ceiling mottled with blue-black mold, where water was steadily leaking through.
This was the place where she, the great Heir of Slytherin and future ruler of the wizarding world, currently lived.
It was worse than Azkaban.
Just then, the system notification sounded again.
[Summer Side Quest Issued: Improve Living Environment.]
[Description: As the future leader of the wizarding world, your current residence is far too shabby.]
[Requirement: Please repair the public areas of the orphanage.]
[Reward: Wisdom +1.]
Tamara wiped the dirty water from the tip of her nose. A vein throbbed once on her forehead.
"You want me to become a bricklayer?"
She asked the system coldly.
Was the Dark Lord supposed to climb onto the roof now? What a joke.
Tamara raised a hand and silently cast a Mending Charm, sealing the leak above.
A simple enough task.
But the system required the public areas to be repaired, which meant the entire orphanage.
If she used magic to fix the whole building overnight, she might as well send the Ministry of Magic a written confession. It might even attract the attention of the Muggle authorities.
"In that case..."
She listened to the administrator still grumbling outside the door, and her gaze returned to the azure Healing Potion on the table.
Healing meant recovery and vitality.
If an uninjured person drank a potion overflowing with excess vitality, that surplus energy would have nowhere to go. It would twist into a morbid, compulsive excitement.
And if she added a little leftover porcupine quill powder to disrupt the potion's stability, it would become a kind of mania draught.
One that drove the mind into hyperactivity and made idleness unbearable.
When that happened, the woman outside would feel so full of energy that she would go mad if she did not find heavy labor to throw herself into.
And if she had that much energy, then she could go repair the roof.
A dangerous smile curved Tamara's lips.
"You want the environment improved? Fine."
The next morning, when Martha shuffled into the kitchen with a yawn, she stopped so abruptly she nearly dropped the sack of flour in her hands.
The sight before her was enough to make anyone think they had lost their mind.
The administrator, usually the laziest person in the orphanage, was standing on a ladder with a paintbrush in hand, furiously slapping fresh paint across the moldy corridor wall at a dizzying pace.
Sweat poured down her face. Her eyes shone with an alarming intensity.
As she worked, she muttered tirelessly under her breath.
"Too filthy... must fix it... I love labor..."
And that was not all.
The yard outside was stacked high with new timber and roofing tiles.
Rumor had it she had emptied her personal savings overnight to hire laborers to repair the roof.
"Good Lord..." Martha crossed herself. "Has she been possessed?"
From the shadows of the second floor, Tamara stood behind a crack in the curtain, a glass of water in hand, looking down on the scene without expression.
The nightcap laced with that altered potion had worked beautifully.
It was like feeding dragon blood to a donkey tied to a millstone.
Now the woman had no option except work.
[Detected that the living environment is improving significantly!]
[Quest completed. Reward: Wisdom +1.]
[Although this method of motivating others is slightly... forceful, as a leader, knowing how to allocate labor efficiently is also a form of Wisdom.]
[Current Wisdom: 32.]
Tamara took a satisfied sip of water and turned back to the table.
This was the Dark Lord's way.
Why dirty her own hands when a potion could drive slaves to solve the problem for her?
"Work hard, you stupid Muggle," she thought coldly.
"This is the only chance you'll ever have to contribute to a great cause."
.....
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