Chapter 405: How to Spin a Story

Getting a child to calm down is hard. Getting an angry child to calm down is even harder. Getting a hungry child who’s been starving for days to calm down? That’s nearly impossible—by Allen.

When Allen left, he promised he’d be back in two or three days. Instead, nearly ten days passed.

That meant Annie had been without snacks for a full ten days. On top of that, the promise he made back when he went to America—that he would never leave Annie behind during his adventures—was now null and void.

Although Annie had cash, the local wizarding specialties in the UK were impossible to buy over there. And technically, he’d broken his promise. Allen shivered just thinking about it.

Luckily—no Tibbers had descended from the sky.

That’s good... but maybe also bad.

Running away wasn’t a solution. Allen turned around, plastered on a surprised expression, then stepped forward. He grabbed Annie by the waist, lifted her into the air, and spun her around.

This was easy. Especially now that he’d unlocked the inheritance and grown a few centimeters taller—Annie could barely reach his shoulders.

Yes. Lift her high! The best way to calm a child!

After a spin, Allen put Annie down.

Good. No kicks. Method works.

But the little girl still had a scowl on her face—her anger clearly hadn’t faded.

So Allen reached for the next tactic. He ruffled Annie’s neatly combed hair into a mess while bending gently to meet her eyes.

"This time, I went on an adventure with someone else. There were a few... minor accidents, so it took longer than expected. I didn’t plan for it. How about this—we’ll go out next weekend as compensation. Sounds good?"

A faint smile crossed her face, but quickly vanished. She was truly angry this time.

No worries—he had one more trick.

Allen pulled the spoils from his bag: two magical items.

People who recognized them gasped in awe. Magical items weren’t something kids could just bring to school. Even the Malfoys wouldn’t casually let their heirlooms in.

Allen had tested the items thoroughly.

One was a pendant box that automatically activated an iron-clad spell to repel attacks during an ambush. Fox had said it was priceless—a true heirloom material.

The other was an intricately carved ring. After a long test, he concluded it had lost its magic over time. It wasn’t broken—the material was just exceptionally durable—but functionally it was a dummy.

The first item was definitely for Annie. The second, Allen decided, would also be used to placate her—proof that he really had been on an adventure. Plus, he planned to turn it into a magical item later to profit from it. Ancient magical items were far more valuable than modern ones!

The effect was immediate. Annie’s icy expression melted, replaced by excitement. Perhaps it was the glow of the sunset—or maybe she just really liked the gifts. Allen even noticed a faint blush on her cheeks.

Probably just my imagination... He’d been poor before. Even when Ilvermorny charged insane prices, he never got anything. How could a simple magical trinket impress her?

Still, the crisis was averted. Allen did feel a twinge of sadness that he couldn’t exploit the lost fake materials for profit.

Using ancient materials to make magical items doesn’t make it any less magical. Quality guaranteed, Merlin won’t blame me. Still, lost revenue... oh well.

For now, placating the child was priority.

After a series of consolations, Annie finally calmed down, showing a rare smile—then bolted.

She ran...

...

Allen felt like he’d taken a hundred thousand points of damage.

What just happened?

Failed at calming a child?

Who could explain this? He’d done everything right! And now she just ran?

Allen sighed and turned his gaze to Marshall. Forget it. He’d explain to the girl later tonight. For now, he needed to patch up his emotional loss with Marshall first.

========

By evening, in their shared tent, a "Celebrating Allen’s Return" dinner was held—a thinly veiled event to torment Marshall.

While Allen had been away, his beloved roommates had managed to open connections with Japanese wizarding schools. First, they had wreaked havoc on Hogwarts’ kitchens, and then another kitchen suffered at the hands of Hufflepuff. Meanwhile, their traitorous classmate Zongze had eaten heartily.

Allen, on the other hand, was gloomily munching the cookies Annie had just sent him. His attempts to follow and explain were in vain—he’d almost been hit in the face by Tibbers, which only added to his frustration.

With the large number of diners—including half of Hufflepuff and most of a Japanese club—Marshall’s wallet really took a hit. Even though he only had to cover the cost of drinks, it was still a significant sum.

Yet, the star of the night remained Allen.

The items he brought were truly spectacular. Two magical items were not just some random trinkets. Anyone who saw them instantly accepted his excuse that he’d been injured on an adventure.

In modern adventure stories, a protagonist taking a week off to recover while simultaneously acquiring two magical items? Not impressive? Try six months!

Even the Ron family only inherited one valuable item through generations. That’s just one!

Didn’t anyone read Professor Lockhart’s books? After countless adventures, he gained nothing. At least none of the students saw him flaunt it. According to Lockhart’s character, he would’ve shown off anything good—but he had nothing.

Allen? Two items. And considering he had to be carried by teammates due to severe injuries, those two items were entirely his personal gain. If others had items too, it might have been three, four, or even more!

By Merlin’s beard, what kind of adventure could yield such rewards?

For young wizards like Allen, who had been captivated by Lockhart-style adventure tales, this was a story worth hearing. And with Allen’s proven strength and spoils as evidence, it was far more convincing than any book story!

After much chatter, Allen naturally became the protagonist. When a young Japanese witch requested that "Allen-san" recount the adventure, he was literally put on the spot.

What now?

He couldn’t very well say he went grave-robbing, could he?

How do I even spin this story?

.....

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