"Mr. Kaison Heath, you are suspected of violating the Statute of Secrecy. Please come with us."
Kaison had just finished laying the floor of a room with dark oak planks when he heard this cold, impersonal voice.
"Uh…"
He looked up at the locked front door, then back at the oddly dressed stranger holding a peculiar wooden stick.
"Did you climb through the window? Honestly, that's pretty unsafe. You could've just knocked, and I'd have opened the door. Of course, if you're here to rob me, I don't mind… Do you want this watch?"
He gestured to his wrist. "It might fetch a couple thousand pounds, but you can't take my phone or wallet. I'm a bit far from home, you know. Commuting for custom home renovations is just as annoying as commuting for a robbery."
He took off his somewhat refined mechanical watch, though it probably wasn't worth a couple thousand pounds. He figured a robber dressed in what looked like pajamas wouldn't have the skills to appraise it anyway.
"Enough! Mr. Kaison Heath, I'll repeat myself: you are suspected of violating the Statute of Secrecy. I'm an employee of the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You can call me Lester. Now, come with me."
Lester drew his wand and pointed it at Kaison.
"Oh… do you need me to make a call for you? To your family? Or maybe a mental hospital?"
"Sir, there's no need to play dumb. We both know what's going on here. Trust me, you don't want the Hit Wizards or Aurors coming for you."
Lester took a step forward.
"…I'm sorry, I still don't understand. What's an Auror? What's a Hit Wizard? And what's the… Ministry of Magic?"
"Good heavens, do I look that easy to fool? Stupefy!"
Kaison raised his hand, and a two-meter-tall stone pillar instantly appeared in front of him, blocking the red beam of light that shot toward him.
At the same time, Lester broke into a grin. "You still claim you don't know magic? You've finally shown your true colors!"
Thud!
A shrunken anvil suddenly materialized above Lester's head, knocking him out cold.
"Sorry, sir, I hope you can forget everything that just happened," Kaison said.
The obsidian block floating in his hand transformed into a wooden stick about thirty centimeters long.
"No, no, that doesn't feel powerful enough. Oak wood should do."
The next moment, a solid oak wood block materialized, floating and dancing with the motion of his hand.
With a thunk, he conjured a splash of deep blue liquid and doused Lester's face with it.
"Kaison Hea—"
Thud!
"Still not amnesic? Not enough force?"
He swapped the oak wood for cobblestone and struck again with a bang.
"You dare assault a Ministry of Magic employee, you—"
Kaison cycled through block after block—oak wood, cobblestone—thinking the force was sufficient, but this stubborn employee clung to his memories like a dog with a bone.
Finally, he pulled out the anvil again, deciding to go all out.
"Ahem, I think that's unnecessary, don't you, Mr. Heath?"
…
Today was Kaison Heath's most surreal day… or perhaps the second most surreal.
The first was when he'd just crossed over into this world. Back then, he'd been playing Minecraft while a Harry Potter movie commentary played in the background. Then his computer short-circuited, and just like that, he found himself in this alternate version of England.
He hadn't come empty-handed. A Minecraft system came with him, allowing him to level up by absorbing positive emotions directed at him—things like goodwill, trust, satisfaction, or admiration.
These emotions manifested as small blocks in reality. By now, he could summon anything from wooden sticks and planks to fire blocks and water source blocks, directly from his hands, affecting the real world.
It wasn't quite on par with Minecraft's Creative Mode, but it was more than enough in England's concrete jungle. For instance… he'd opened a custom home renovation studio.
He couldn't be entirely blamed for today's events. The Harry Potter commentary he'd been watching before crossing over hadn't even finished the first movie. If that Ministry employee had said something like, "Where's your wand?" or mentioned "Hogwarts," Kaison might've caught on sooner.
Instead, here he was, casually placing an oak wood block and two stair blocks in the middle of the room to serve as a table and chairs.
The white-bearded old man across from him… well, Kaison recognized him. After all, the opening scene of the *Harry Potter* movie commentary featured this very man, holding a device that absorbed light, standing on a dark street.
At this moment, Albus Dumbledore was curiously examining the stair block Kaison was sitting on and the oak wood block in front of him.
"Is this alchemy? It's certainly not Transfiguration, but I must sincerely commend your innovative spellcasting methods."
Kaison felt awkward. The old man showed no hostility—almost excessive friendliness—which made it hard for Kaison to justify attacking him, though he wasn't sure he'd win anyway.
Still, he could try. What was so scary about an old man who liked collecting light with a lighter?
Just as he considered discreetly summoning an anvil above Dumbledore's head, the potential victim spoke.
"I don't have Lester's sturdy frame. Honestly, an anvil to the head might just do me in."
Kaison nodded thoughtfully and swapped the anvil for a wooden plank.
"…"
"Oh, sorry, I thought you didn't say anything." He casually retracted the plank block as if nothing had happened.
"A spellcasting method I've never seen before. That little block shares the same magical essence as the magic within you. It seems you're a natural alchemist, freely transforming and creating. If Nicolas Flamel knew of your existence, he might be so excited he'd report to Death himself early."
Dumbledore watched Kaison's change of heart with keen interest, offering commentary.
"Thanks…"
"So, Mr. Kaison Heath, care to tell me about yourself?"
"I'm…"
He steeled himself and said, "A wizard, I guess. I was in… Sweden before, only recently came to England, so I don't know the rules here…"
"Alright, I've never been good at lying. I don't have that talent. I woke up one day with these powers, so I used them to start a custom home renovation business. You know, fixing up houses, like this."
With a wave of his hand, Kaison covered the wall in front of them with a layer of sturdy wooden planks.
Under his half-honest words and fully honest actions, Dumbledore maintained his warm, kindly smile.
[Satisfaction from Albus Dumbledore +10]
For some reason, Kaison felt a chill. Normally, when his clients expressed satisfaction, it was fine—they were pleased with his renovations. But this old man… what was he satisfied with?
Noticing Kaison's wary glance, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he caught on to what Kaison was thinking. He quickly clarified, "Don't misunderstand. I'm simply admiring your honesty."
"Dumbledore… you can't… you can't just chat so casually with a wizard who assaulted a Ministry employee… I'll report this to the Wizengamot!"
Lester, lying on the ground, struggled to open his eyes. After speaking, he was promptly buried under a pile of sand that fell from above.