Chapter 22: The Outsourcing Business of the Path to Immortality is Open for Trade

Through his preliminary experiments, Roger confirmed that using his microscopic transfiguration as an entry point to pursue the path of life extension was indeed a viable route. However, he soon encountered the same dilemma that had plagued ancient wizards.

The reason ancient wizards avoided the path of microscopic transfiguration—and refrained from using transfiguration to manipulate phenomena like neutron bursts—was that transfiguration is a rational magic. It requires the caster to have not only a clear understanding of what the target should become but also a precise perception of the target itself.

A lack of understanding of the intended form results in failures like Ron’s attempt in transfiguration class, where he turned a rat into a goblet, only to have half a rat’s tail remain on it—an incomplete, failed transformation. A lack of perception of the target leads to complete failure, with nothing happening at all. Whether you can see the rat directly or sense it with your hands, you must at least know what you are starting with before turning A into B; you cannot simply conjure B out of thin air without knowing what A is. Conjuring something from nothing falls under the category of summoning charms, not transfiguration.

With the aid of a microscope, Roger could intuitively perceive the existence of cells and capture their shapes. Yet, due to the limited precision of the microscope, his scope of manipulation remained restricted to the cellular level. Like the ancient wizards, he was limited by the scale of his perception, which would have been fine on its own, but Roger faced another, more troublesome predicament.

The path to immortality Roger sought required creating a micro-substance that could be controlled by his own will while simultaneously repairing and modifying his body. Setting aside the question of which substance could help modify his physique, simply linking his consciousness to microscopic matter was a massive challenge.

After his time studying at Hogwarts, Roger’s understanding of the magical world had reached a new level. Before long, he devised a method that was not quite a method, along with another approach of uncertain feasibility.

"Two methods. Let's try both."

***

Harry Potter had not expected that, only two days after meeting Professor Quirrell and chatting about Roger, he would find himself crossing paths with Roger again.

"Please, help me," Roger said with a serious expression.

He felt not a shred of embarrassment. If something could be better resolved by seeking help, then one should go find someone. Trouble? Human relationships are built on trouble. You help me, I help you; you demonstrate your mutual value. Back and forth, the sunk costs grow, trust is established, and that is how one builds connections... unless you have absolutely nothing to offer in return and are merely using the other person unilaterally.

When you are not yet powerful enough to defeat the whole world single-handedly, making good use of human connections is a very useful skill. Knowing who is trustworthy and worth befriending, and who will only bring you endless trouble, is the difficult part of this art. But for Roger, the "prophet," such difficulties did not exist.

"Sure," Harry agreed readily to Roger’s request. After all, it was just a small favor.

With that, Harry led Roger toward the other side of Hogwarts Castle, in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. He was taking Roger to see Hagrid. Roger could have gone directly, of course, but things go much smoother with an introduction from an acquaintance.

The favor Roger wanted to ask of Hagrid was quite complex. If Hagrid were not the type of person who was naturally interested in magical creatures, Roger would have struggled to find a way to make him agree. When dealing with troublesome matters, high initial favorability is always better.

As Roger expected, Hagrid was not only unbothered by Harry bringing a guest, but he was also delighted—happy that Harry had made another friend at school.

"...Magical creatures invisible to the naked eye?" The tall half-giant Hagrid struggled to lift his head from the microscope Roger had brought, twisting his neck which was sore from being bent for too long. He finally understood what Roger meant: not invisible magical creatures, but creatures that were simply small enough to be unseen.

"Exactly. And I also have some interest in the cross-breeding of different magical creatures," Roger nodded.

His idea was simple. A Boggart is a creature that can peer into your heart and transform into what you fear most; it once turned into a Dementor and nearly terrified Harry into fainting. Among magical creatures, there are those capable of sensing the thoughts of other living beings. If there were a creature small enough to be "microscopic," capable of sensing a wizard's intent, yet so small that it lacked a brain or thoughts of its own, it might—if it could also transform—satisfy his needs to a certain extent.

Roger wanted to try breeding such a creature. But this was the realm of blood magic and magizoology, fields in which Roger was not well-versed. This deviated from his chosen path of transfiguration, and in terms of future potential, he viewed this route as inferior to his own. Thus, he had no intention of switching tracks entirely.

Instead, Roger wanted to "outsource" this path he didn't intend to pursue himself. If one day his transfiguration path to immortality failed, he would at least have a backup plan, avoiding the fate of the old wizard who wrote *Blood Magic and Transfiguration: Speculations on a Future Era*—someone who started a new path from scratch only to age and die before he could finish. Roger liked to plan ahead and always had multiple contingencies.

As for Hagrid, even if Roger succeeded in his transfiguration path and never utilized these creatures, he would still remember Hagrid’s favor. Moreover, the very act of cultivating a unique new magical creature, if managed well, was enough to bring Hagrid enormous benefits!

"This..." After Roger honestly explained part of his plan, Hagrid pondered for a moment.

"Alright! I'll help you with this!"

He was willing to help Roger with this kind of magical creature breeding. Hagrid was a big man with a simple heart; he didn't agree because Roger was a prophet, nor because of any promises, nor even because of Harry. Simply put, the idea of creating a magical creature that no one had ever heard of—one that might even warrant its own new "order" in magizoology—was, to someone who loved magical creatures... just too cool!

It was the coolest thing Hagrid had heard all year, even cooler than the Philosopher's Stone.

After getting his answer, Harry and Roger ended their visit. Both left with smiles—Roger’s because his goal had been successfully achieved, and Harry’s because he was happy to be someone who could help others.

Just then, a cold wind blew. Both their school robes fluttered violently.

Roger’s smile vanished.

"What's wrong?" Harry, who had been keeping an eye on Roger, noticed his expression looked as if he had just bitten into a lemon.

"...Nothing, just some side effects from a magical experiment."

Of the two solutions Roger had devised, one was the micro-magical creature path outsourced to Hagrid. The other, he was pursuing himself. However, because his technique was not yet mature, Roger was experiencing some physical issues. To put it simply, much like Blackbeard after eating the Dark-Dark Fruit, his body's sensitivity to pain had been amplified many times over. The soft fabric of his school uniform felt like an instrument of torture, and the wind felt like a severe beating.

"Magical experiment?" Although Harry knew Roger was working on something related to immortality, he didn't know the specific details.

"Yes. I call it... Magical Neuron Reconstruction Technology."

"Do you have any interest in trying it out?" Roger flashed a kind smile.