Chapter 48: If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them

"Many people think I am unreasonable, which is quite normal. After all, given their limited lifespans, it is hard for them to witness the day of earth-shaking changes, so they can naturally leave everything to 'the wisdom of future generations'."

As the two walked closer to the library, the surrounding crowd began to swell. Voldemort looked at the young wizards around him with a hint of mockery in his eyes.

"But you are different, Roger." Voldemort's tone carried a playful nuance. "You are also a practitioner on the path to immortality, and you will live a very long time."

"Right now, your strength is advancing in leaps and bounds every day, but one day, you will also encounter it—the barrier of talent. When your magic can no longer make an inch of progress, while the technology of the Muggles develops at a breathtaking speed, seeing that scene, you will understand how I feel."

Regarding Voldemort's statement, Roger merely found it absurd: "Why worry about such a thing?"

"If you can't beat them, join them."

"Huh?" Voldemort paused, momentarily stunned.

"If one day, the development of technology really manages to catch up with magic, and my magic still fails to advance further, I'll just join in."

"If a trend like that truly emerges, as an immortal being, I can just lay my groundwork in advance and directly mingle within the upper echelons of the Muggles, can't I?" In Roger's memory, there were far too many mighty mages thriving in the technological camp.

"But..."

Roger interrupted Voldemort: "Discard the notion that wizards are superior beings. If technology is truly that powerful, who is superior to whom? Nor should you feel like an outlier who will be ostracized. Aren't you curious about how Muggles awaken to become young wizards? Once you thoroughly research that and universalize it across the world, wouldn't everyone be the same?"

With that, Roger snapped his fingers once more, lifting the sound-barrier spell, and stepped into the Hogwarts library ahead of Voldemort.

Behind him, Voldemort stood frozen in place, murmuring under his breath: "...If you can't beat them, join them?"

Roger's words had awakened someone lost in delusion.

Voldemort's vision was to attain boundless power alongside endless life.

If treating the wizarding standpoint as fundamental made launching a counter-offensive against Muggles too difficult...

What if I ascend to the upper echelons of Muggle society, develop there for a few centuries, and in turn crush the wizards—wouldn't that also be a viable path to becoming the king of the world?

Uh...

Ignoring Voldemort, who was deeply tangled in his thoughts as he struggled to bypass certain inherent cognitive biases, Roger entered the library, selecting books while contemplating his own future.

Although Roger looked down upon many of Voldemort's methods, this conversation with him had nonetheless stirred something within Roger.

The limit of talent.

The problem Voldemort had encountered would one day become his own problem as well.

The Second Brain had enhanced his innate talent, but this enhancement had not reached a superhuman level.

Moreover, the boundary of a wizard's power was also a question that needed to be addressed.

Although Roger felt that, relying on his premonition of danger, he might be able to go very far down the path of physical modification.

However.

After the physical body becomes stronger, a sound body nurtures a sound soul. A more powerful soul will make psychic and spiritual power even stronger—that was merely a theoretical projection formulated by ancient wizards when they constructed the path of the Transformation Faction.

What if this path had its limits as well?

Ultimately, much like the current magical creature bloodline wizards, it would only make one slightly stronger, still failing to truly allow a wizard to become a god.

Rituals, modifications, external objects—the concepts he had seen in books earlier once again echoed in Roger's mind.

After a long while, a thought suddenly emerged.

"The paths of predecessors are not necessarily the most suitable paths for me."

"When the problem of longevity is solved..."

"Perhaps I should try to find a path that truly and entirely belongs to me."

...

Walking through the courtyard of Hogwarts Castle, Roger suddenly felt a slight chill on the tip of his nose. Looking up, he saw goose feather-like snowflakes beginning to drift down from somewhere unknown.

Unlike the light flurries of the previous days, this heavy snow completely proclaimed the arrival of winter.

In terms of temperature, winter in Britain lasts from December to February of the following year.

"What's the matter? Standing here all dazed?" A melodious voice came from behind him.

Turning his head to look back, he saw his classmates all standing there, not just Hermione who had spoken.

Harry, Ron, Neville, and other young Gryffindor wizards, as well as Draco and the other Slytherin snakes, were all present.

The two houses had just finished a joint class and were now crossing the courtyard, hurrying to their next classroom.

When Roger had stopped midway, the others had somehow halted their steps as well, gazing with curious eyes at the rarely distracted Roger.

"It's nothing," Roger waved his hand.

"I just suddenly felt sentimental that Christmas is only twenty-some days away."

"Christmas..." Many young wizards' eyes lit up upon hearing this.

Because every Christmas, they would receive various gifts.

Meanwhile, other young wizards began pondering what kind of gifts they should prepare for others.

The surrounding young wizards were brimming with enthusiasm, but Roger felt no sense of anticipation.

It wasn't that he had any grievances against Christmas.

Rather, this year's Christmas was a bit different.

This year was 1991.

Christmas Day on December 25th of this year... Ah.

He wondered what kind of impact the collapse of the Red Giant would have on the world in this magical universe, and whether it would differ in any way from his previous life.

Of course, such thoughts merely flashed through his mind and did not linger for long in Roger's heart. After all, regardless of the impact, he currently lacked the capability to interfere; focusing on studying magic properly remained his utmost priority.

Next, Roger went about his routine as usual: attending classes, leaving classes, visiting the library, conducting experiments, and returning to the dormitories just before curfew.

Just as he thought his peaceful day was about to draw to a close...

"Roger, someone is looking for you outside!" The dormitory door was knocked on.

Stepping out of the Gryffindor common room, Roger's eyes immediately caught Hagrid's towering figure.

"Why are you here?" Roger asked, somewhat puzzled.

Normally, Hagrid wouldn't come looking for him at this hour.

Hagrid stood there, scratching his head, and said, "My experiment has made a bit more progress. Although I still haven't managed to miniaturize magical creatures, I feel like this result is a bit..."

"Bizarre?" Hagrid racked his brain for a long time before finally settling on this descriptor.

Having experienced the incident with the Demon of Fear last time, Hagrid had now become like a person bitten by a snake who fears the mere shadow of a rope for ten years.

Even though he couldn't see any specific danger in this latest result, Hagrid, terrified of accidentally causing trouble again, sought out Roger at the very first opportunity to have him take a look.

As for Roger, since someone had traveled all this way to find him, he couldn't let Hagrid make the trip for nothing, so he once again familiarly headed toward Hagrid's hut by the Forbidden Forest.

...

"This thing..." Upon catching his first glimpse of Hagrid's new creation, Roger was startled on the spot.

After observing it closely for a moment, Roger finally heaved a sigh of relief.

Poking the green-skinned creature in front of him with his wand, Roger turned his head and looked at Hagrid, asking in a skeptical tone, "Hagrid, have you been playing Warhammer 40K?"