Chapter 199: Martin's Fear
After the alchemy class at Beauxbatons, the student who had been named first place sought out Ryan.
"Professor..."
"Outside of class, just call me Ryan. We're all friends, no need for such formality."
"Professor! I think you should give the first place to Fleur."
Ryan was puzzled. "I saw Fleur's work. It was excellent, but she lacked your ingenuity. You added a stabilizer and a switch when carving the board. That alone puts you ahead of her."
"Hah." The student let out a scoff through his nose, raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and walked away.
Hopeless. Just waiting to die. Goodbye.
Ryan tilted his head, curious.
After finishing the class the previous night, Martin returned to his home in the Muggle world. He and the others had access to Portkeys placed in specific locations, specially approved by the French Ministry of Magic, allowing them to travel between their homes and the Magi-Metal Academy.
These Portkeys were distributed by region, shared among Magi-Metal Wizards living in the same area.
Last night, after finishing his screw-turning job at the factory and grabbing a hot dog from a street vendor, he had rushed to the cellar of an abandoned building where his area's Portkey—an unassuming tire—was kept.
Then he had encountered the new Professor Quirrell's speech.
He genuinely respected this new professor from the bottom of his heart.
Not everyone could face their past, their flaws, and their traumas. Let alone a young wizard like Quirinus Quirrell, who had fallen from a high pedestal of promise into the mud, becoming a Squib just like them.
yet, watching Quirrell's speech, he saw a man at peace, with no trace of anger at his situation. He had accepted everything calmly and chosen to teach here, to share their hardships...
Is this Hogwarts? Martin only knew two people from Hogwarts, and both had left an incredibly deep impression on him.
There was Ryan, who found a way out for Squibs, built a school, and distributed wands. And there was Quirrell, who faced himself, accepted himself, and chose to do the right thing.
He remembered the closing words of Quirrell's speech: "To me, the pain merely gave me an opportunity to stand for the interests of the broader wizarding community. And you are the soil in which this opportunity grows. You are wizards! We are wizards!"
Yes, we are wizards...
Thinking this, Martin woke up early and went to work at the factory as usual, full of energy. He constantly thought about saving enough money, exchanging it for Galleons at Gringotts through the goblins, and eventually settling permanently in the magical world.
Or, after the three-year course at the academy, he hoped to find a job at Mr. Ryan's Tower of Wonders, praying he could pass their assessment.
He heard there were already several Magi-Metal Wizards working at the Tower, apparently in the booming Communicator gaming industry under the Weasley brothers.
Martin had tried the game Academy Kill. He was astounded by its operational philosophy. The advanced methods used to squeeze players dry were enough to put every factory owner he knew to shame.
He believed that coming up with such methods proved the Weasley brothers were capable men. The only downside was that such marketing tactics and operational philosophies made it very easy for someone to track them down and cause trouble.
Yes, Martin's thinking was different from many wizards, Muggles, and Squibs.
He was firmly convinced that wizards with the power to cast magic at will were essentially people wandering the streets with submachine guns. Whoever had the more advanced gun and the most bullets had the loudest voice in any normal conversation.
"This is fantastic. I've always looked down on Ireland across the channel. The people there, even after receiving Victoria's 'blessing,' are still part of the UK! Can't they revolt? Or did the Great Famine strip them of even the courage to rebel?"
Martin wasn't highly educated. But after hearing about the love-hate history between Ireland, the Great Famine, and Queen Victoria, he felt that people who dared not rebel weren't people; they were livestock. Whether they got the whip or feed, lived or died, depended entirely on the shepherd's mood.
Of course, to put it nicely, they were "good citizens," the obedient bedrock of a stable society.
He didn't want to be such a citizen. He wanted a weapon in his hand to resist the shepherd. So he loved the current atmosphere in the magical world and despised the actions of the previous British Minister.
He had a simple breakfast and walked down the road, meeting a coworker heading to the same factory.
Seeing Martin, the coworker leaned in conspiratorially. "Oh, Martin. Did you hear? Something big happened at the Eiffel Tower plaza!"
"What big thing?"
"It happened ages ago, six months back. Everyone who should know already knows. But the city hall stopped keeping a lid on it, so the news finally reached us: six months ago, legendary werewolves and witches appeared at the Eiffel Tower plaza!"
Werewolves and witches!
Martin's steps faltered. His nerves tightened, but he forced a smile. "How can legends exist in the real world?"
"Don't be so skeptical. People with internet and computers at home say the forums are going crazy over it. Someone even took photos!"
Martin felt a sudden, inexplicable tightness in his chest. Countless stories flashed through his mind: maybe this coworker was actually from a French special ops division, maybe he was testing him, maybe wizards and Muggles were truly incompatible and war would break out the moment they were discovered...
"What's wrong? Are you sick?"
"No, no, I'm fine." Martin shook his head a few too many times.
Just then, a group of people approached from the opposite direction.
Martin noticed that among the loud group was another Magi-Metal Wizard studying at the academy!
Like him, this wizard lived an unsatisfying life and had a desperate thirst for magic...
But aside from that wizard, he didn't recognize anyone else in the group. Clearly, they were all ordinary people!
The two groups drew closer.
Martin and his coworker heard what was being said in the approaching crowd.
"I'm telling you! I'm a noble wizard now!"
"You? A wizard?"
"Hey! Don't you believe me? If I had my wand with me, I'd show you a thing or two right now!"
The air was filled with a jovial atmosphere.
Only Martin felt his hands and feet go cold. He distinctly remembered the professors repeatedly emphasizing the Statute of Secrecy at the academy: do not reveal your wizarding identity casually, do not cast magic in front of ordinary people! If caught, your wand would be destroyed, and you would be expelled from the magical world forever.
But there were too many Squibs like him, living unhappy lives...
Human instinct drives people to seek self-validation and glory...
One can never predict human behavior under extreme conditions.
"Martin, did you stay up late last night? You look pale and weak."
The coworker supported Martin, feeling how cold he was and seeing his terrible complexion. "I'll take you to the hospital."
~~~
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