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20% Hogwarts: What Mischief Could a Little Snake Get Into? / Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Emotion System
Hogwarts: What Mischief Could a Little Snake Get Into? Hogwarts: What Mischief Could a Little Snake Get Into? original

Hogwarts: What Mischief Could a Little Snake Get Into?

作者: HP_Fan1

© WebNovel

章節 1: Chapter 1 - Emotion System

London.

In the stony district of Manchester, on Lily Street, bustling traffic and crowds fill the wide, busy streets.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, a skinny boy stands out. He's about fourteen, wearing clothes that don't fit him at all. Beneath his messy black hair are refined features that draw curious looks from passersby.

"Whose child is this? He looks like he belongs to some rich lady..."

Crow sat by the roadside, looking utterly helpless. He propped his chin up and gazed at the people passing by.

"Three days, it's been three whole days!"

"So, I've crossed over without any special powers. At the very least, could someone tell me where I am? The '90s, in England?"

Indeed. He wasn't from this world. Whether it was a stroke of luck or misfortune, he didn't know. In his past life, he was a struggling writer, who collapsed from exhaustion and woke up here—an orphan. He spent ten years in an orphanage until it unexpectedly shut down three days ago, leaving him on the streets of Lily Street.

The only small consolation was that he looked just as his fans had described—like a heartthrob! That was his one little comfort.

Good news: he'd joined the transmigration trend!

Bad news: he hadn't awakened any of the systems typically granted to transmigrators. He was just an orphan with no background and had no idea where he was. If it weren't for the kindness of strangers, he would have starved by now.

"I should have studied British history. I could've made a fortune if I had!"

"Alas, hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Thankfully, I learned English over these ten years. Otherwise, I'd truly be in dire straits."

"But what am I going to do now? At this rate, I'll starve. Am I going to be the first time traveler to die of hunger?"

With a defeated sigh, Crow stood up, lost in thought as he walked, thinking about where he could find work. After all, who would hire a kid his age?

Just a few steps later, he suddenly felt a soft bump against his chest. A sweet fragrance filled his senses as he saw a bundle of warmth collide into him. A startled shout followed:

"Ah!"

Crow instinctively reached out and grabbed the person by the sleeve, but he underestimated his own weakness after eating so little over the past few days. He found himself tumbling forward, pulling the other person down with him.

The fragrance filled his nose, and he felt something soft in his hands. Crow couldn't help but give it a little squeeze. Hmm, this bun... it's definitely all meat! Though it could use a bit more filling. Two stars!

"Ouch! Can't you watch where you're going?" Hermione frowned, her face full of pain.

Crow quickly stood up and extended a hand, embarrassed. "Sorry, I was lost in thought. Wait... are you Hermione?"

After straightening up, Hermione brushed her hair aside, revealing her golden curls. Seeing this familiar little girl, Crow couldn't help but gasp.

"You know me? Even if you do, you should watch where you're going. My cream bun is ruined!" Hermione pouted, looking sadly at the leaking bun. "I spent my whole week's allowance on this."

Crow scratched his nose, his eyes glinting. "I'm really sorry about the bun. My name is Crow Wells. I'll find a way to replace it. And you? Are you Hermione too? I have a friend named Hermione, with the same blonde curls. I thought you were her for a moment."

Hermione, still clutching the ruined bun, looked up at him. "Since you apologized sincerely, I'll let the bun slide. My name is Hermione Granger. What's your friend's name?"

Crow was about to fabricate a story, but then a mechanical voice echoed in his mind:

[Original character detected. Emotion Chest System activated!]

[Activation in progress... 10... 30... 70... 90...]

[System activated! Functions transmitted to host. Please pay attention!]

Before Crow could respond, a sharp pain shot through his head, and he felt dizzy. With a roll of his eyes, he collapsed forward.

That was his last thought before blacking out: This system is worse than useless!

[Detected intense confusion! Bronze Chest awarded!]

"Crow! What's wrong? Don't scare me! Somebody help! He's fainted!" Hermione cried out, holding him and frantically shaking his shoulders.

[Detected intense panic! Silver Chest awarded!]

***

Lily Street, No. 444.

In a pure white room filled with stuffed animals and books, Crow slowly opened his eyes on a soft, white bed. Looking up at the unfamiliar ceiling and feeling the bed beneath him, he inhaled a faint but familiar fragrance. Crow frowned and sat up, recalling the encounter with Hermione and how he'd squished her prized meat bun.

And then he remembered... the system!

Crow's eyes widened. "Emotion Chest System? You might as well call yourself the Scam System! What kind of system makes the host pass out right at the start?"

[Detected exasperation! Emotion insufficient to award a chest.]

Hearing the system's cold mechanical voice, Crow twitched in frustration. Clearly, this system was an expert in recycling!

After venting his frustrations, Crow began processing the information transmitted by the system. It was called the Emotion Chest System. In essence, he could gain rewards by provoking strong emotions in others. As long as the emotions were intense enough, he'd receive a chest. The chests ranged from Bronze, Silver, Gold, Diamond, to the highest, King.

To trigger a chest, he could provoke feelings like excitement, anger, hatred, confusion, and so on. However, only emotions from strong or powerful individuals would yield useful chests. For example, if he angered both Dumbledore and a random passerby, he might receive a King-level chest from Dumbledore, while the passerby might not yield anything at all.

"So, I need to provoke strong emotions... get people to 'break'? And it only counts if they're powerful? Great, just great," Crow muttered. "So, this system really just wants me to live dangerously."

As he was considering his future, a bright voice interrupted his thoughts, full of excitement and joy.

"Crow! You're awake!"

Crow looked up to see little Hermione standing at the door, holding a tray with a broad smile on her face.

[Detected strong excitement! Award: Silver Chest!]

Wow! A treasure girl indeed! He'd barely met her, and she'd already given him two Silver Chests!

Feigning confusion, Crow furrowed his brow. "Hermione? Where am I? Why am I here? And whose bed is this? It smells... nice. Is this... a handkerchief?"

Hermione's puzzled face showed she wasn't aware of any handkerchief on her bed. Suddenly, her eyes went wide as Crow held up a piece of pink fabric, sniffing it curiously. Her face turned bright red, full of embarrassment and irritation.

[Detected strong embarrassment! Award: Gold Chest!]

A Gold Chest! This treasure girl had given him two Silver Chests and now a Gold Chest—he might have just discovered the system's true potential.

Crow couldn't help but smile, still playing the part of the clueless bystander. Hermione quickly set down the tray, rushed to the bed, and snatched the pink fabric from his hands, stuffing it into her wardrobe. Her face remained flushed with indignation, but Crow pretended to be genuinely perplexed.

"Was that fabric important to you? I'm sorry. If it's dirty, I can wash it for you," he offered sincerely.

Hermione squinted at him, clearly skeptical, but seeing his earnest expression, she seemed to relax a little. Maybe he really didn't know what it was.

[Detected strong exasperation! No further chests can be earned from this target today.]

Crow had anticipated this. Each person could only yield up to three chests per day. Still, he felt a pang of regret, knowing he'd missed the chance at another chest—possibly even a Gold Chest.

Crow exhaled in disappointment. He didn't know what lay inside these chests yet, but he was certain they held valuable treasures.


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