Chapter 37: Equip a Generation, Design a Generation, Pre-research a Generation

Unsolvable.

That was the conclusion Voldemort reached after a brief moment of contemplation regarding this battle.

From the skirmish that had just concluded, Voldemort realized that Roger’s observation of fate was not merely limited to seeing a short time into the future; he could see "very far."

There had been a trap in Roger’s initial contract. The "arm" offered as an additional stake in the Sorcerer’s Stone game, modified by Roger’s Transfiguration to alter his internal anatomy, was capable of triggering his crisis intuition at full capacity, even when Quirrell’s attacks lacked true murderous intent.

Facing a true seer capable of observing fate at will, any sudden ambush was futile. All conspiracies, schemes, and backstabbing maneuvers were nothing more than a laughingstock. The more one played at intrigue, the more likely one was to stumble over unexpected variables.

When one’s observation of fate reaches a certain level, the power of a seer becomes as terrifyingly absolute as the ability to rewind time at will.

For Roger, even a three-percent chance of victory, after making countless correct choices, was equivalent to infinitely approaching one hundred percent—not to mention his actual thirty-percent odds. Any minor error in Quirrell’s combat would inevitably lead to his defeat.

To secure victory, the only way to break the deadlock was for Quirrell to grow until he could defeat Roger with 100% certainty—to obliterate all possibilities with the absolute violence of a nuclear explosion.

This was also the reason why, after entering school, Roger had poured all his research energy into extending his lifespan and enhancing his innate talents, without giving a single thought to researching combat-oriented magic.

As he truly touched the power of magic and grasped more of the mysteries of the mind, Roger’s prophetic abilities far surpassed those he had possessed during his time in the Middle East.

Now that he had mastered Transfiguration and other magical arts, unless a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore or Voldemort, or a force of equal magnitude, intended to kill him, he was virtually invincible in life-or-death combat.

An enemy that could be defeated was a guaranteed win. As for enemies that could not be defeated, even if he researched combat magic, there would be no hope—the disparity in raw power was a chasm that a few spells or tricks could not bridge. If someone cast *Finite Incantatem* or exerted mental suppression, any struggle would be in vain.

Unless Roger possessed the destiny-defying, targeted plot armor of a Harry Potter, he had to honestly and diligently strengthen his foundation to keep pace.

"Interesting. Tsk, truly interesting." Voldemort, hidden behind the turban, let out a chilling, hair-raising laugh.

He could certainly guide Quirrell to become stronger through his knowledge of magic, but what was Quirrell’s baseline? Asking him to compete in growth speed against this young seer? Don’t make him laugh. The feasibility of a violent breakthrough never existed in the first place.

Everything returned to the "riddle" of the little game Roger had proposed:

'Can you, truly, break fate?!'

***

Voldemort had not expected that, so many years after graduating from Hogwarts, he would return here once more.

The Hogwarts library.

As a wizard who had reached the pinnacle of the magical path, Voldemort possessed his own unique understanding of magical systems. He delved deeply into the Dark Arts and the realm of the soul. He could not say he was ignorant of other fields, but they were not on the same level as his Dark Arts.

Facing an unfamiliar enemy from the realm of fate, the best approach he could conceive was to search these dusty piles for any clue that might break the deadlock.

Not far behind Voldemort, Roger watched his focused figure without much thought. If he truly found some method to break the stalemate, Roger’s crisis intuition would react immediately, and he would simply counter the move when the time came.

While Voldemort grew stronger, Roger was not standing still.

In the two months since enrollment, Roger’s magical path was finally on the verge of reaching a new realm.

Come to think of it, he owed a debt of gratitude to Professor McGonagall for leading him onto the path of alchemy, and to Hermione for pointing out that he had been blinded by a single leaf.

Although the internal operating principles of alchemical items were sustained by magic—completely unrelated to neuroscience or physics, a purely technical black box—the idea of creating a powerful alchemical organ, studying its principles, and replicating it within his own body had failed. The "bootstrap" approach of combining Transfiguration body modification with alchemy had hit a wall.

Yet, alchemy still pointed out a clear path while enhancing his natural talent.

After a period of research, Roger’s alchemical "second brain" had taken its initial form. Although the technology to assist with calculation and accelerate thought was still a distant prospect, the function of memory storage had been quickly developed after studying the alchemical principles of items like the Pensieve.

Already gifted with a photographic memory, he no longer needed to spend time writing notes. His learning efficiency was now significantly higher than before.

As his proficiency in human alchemy grew, a thought began to take root in his mind: perhaps he could attempt to craft an alchemical organ similar to Mad-Eye Moody’s magical eye.

Of course, Roger did not want to see through people. What he truly desired was an alchemical organ that could push his observational scale beyond the cellular level.

If this hypothesis were to succeed, Roger’s Transfiguration modifications would fully enter the "2.0 era," transcending simple flesh-and-blood cellular changes and entering the realm of material reorganization.

The path to "immortality" might be achieved sooner than he had anticipated.

If that were the case, the path to "eternal youth" should also be prepared...

Roger’s journey, much like scientific research in the Muggle world, was a cycle of deploying one generation, designing the next, and pre-researching the one after that. He would iterate his technology step by step, starting from flesh and blood, moving to material energy, penetrating the truth of magic, until he surpassed magic itself and reached the other shore... provided he did not die along the way.

Soon, Roger, like Voldemort, became completely immersed in the world of knowledge.

For a time, the only sound in the library was the turning of pages.

Until a voice broke the silence.

"Roger, Roger..." a small voice whispered in his ear.

Roger turned his head to see Hermione.

"What is it?"

"The Quidditch match is about to start. Aren't you going to watch?" Hermione, who was passing through the library to return a book, asked in a low, slightly confused voice.

This was the reason why the library, which usually held quite a few people, contained only Roger and Voldemort, who was using Quirrell’s body to read.

Quidditch was a wildly popular sport in the wizarding world, and the Hogwarts matches were among the most significant events at the school. Ordinarily, the entire student body would head to the pitch to cheer for their respective houses or simply to watch the game.

...Even those who didn't care much for Quidditch usually went to join the fun.

"Sorry, I have no interest in making a special trip for a short match that is already guaranteed to be won," Roger replied.

If Roger’s intuition was correct, today’s match would not only be a guaranteed win, but a crushing, one-sided victory.

"But..." Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You could say you are one of Harry’s most important friends at Hogwarts. His moment of glory, yet you are nowhere to be seen... Harry would be quite disappointed, wouldn't he?"