The moment Charlie pushed open the door, he froze.
The sight before him made him wonder if he had traveled back in time.
Rows of brand-new computer desks were neatly arranged, and 32-inch 4K monitors gleamed with a faint blue light under the illumination.
Inside the transparent side panel of the computer case, RGB light strips flashed wildly, looking incredibly cool.
Gaming chairs, mechanical keyboards, professional mouse pads, and even the decorative posters on the wall were exactly like those in the internet cafes from his memory.
Charlie's heart rate suddenly accelerated.
He quickly walked to the nearest computer and pressed the power button.
However, nothing happened.
The monitor was pitch black, and the RGB light strips in the case didn't light up.
Charlie paused, pressed it a few more times, but still got no response.
He sighed, having to accept reality.
Although this room could materialize what was desired, it was also limited by human and temporal understanding.
In this era, those high-performance graphics cards and monitors didn't exist.
Charlie also had no understanding of internal structures like chips, so naturally, he could only materialize an empty shell.
It seemed he would have to wait more than twenty years to play games.
He turned and walked out of the room, the door closing automatically behind him.
Charlie stood opposite the portrait, re-imagining a spacious training ground in his mind.
It needed to be large enough, high enough, and able to withstand his Spell bombardment.
He pushed open the door, and the scene instantly switched.
The training ground was absurdly large.
It stretched out of sight, with a floor paved with hard flagstones, and dummy targets standing all around.
These targets were densely packed, arranged in rows from near to far.
Charlie looked up; the ceiling was impossibly high, at least a dozen meters.
He nodded in satisfaction; this should be enough to let him have his fill.
Charlie stretched his wrists, preparing to test the intensity of silent, wandless casting and how different it was from using a wand.
He raised his right hand, and with a thought,
A crimson beam shot from his fingertip.
Boom!
The dummy target was instantly blasted into pieces, and the shockwave of the explosion swept out, tearing apart nearby targets as well, flipping over all targets within dozens of meters.
A huge crater was blown into the ground, debris flew, and the entire room shook.
Charlie quickly looked up at the ceiling, afraid the building would collapse.
Fortunately, the walls and ceiling remained motionless; it seemed this room was indeed sturdy enough.
A smile tugged at the corner of Charlie's mouth, very satisfied with this power.
As expected of a Level 4 Spell, its destructive power was maximized.
This was only silent, wandless casting, and its power was somewhat inferior to the full-power version.
Charlie picked up his wand, intending to try the complete Spell.
But 'Exploding Charm' was out of the question; Charlie feared the Room of Requirement couldn't withstand it.
This time, he chose the Spell he was most proficient with—Incendio.
With a gentle flick of his wand,
"Incendio!"
Flames surged from the wand tip.
In an instant, they became a towering inferno.
Immediately, the entire training ground was illuminated by the fire.
The flames advanced furiously, devouring all the dummy targets.
The targets burned, twisted, deformed in the flames, and finally turned to ash.
The fire grew fiercer and fiercer, the temperature terrifyingly high, like a giant dragon rampaging through the training ground.
The entire training ground, from top to bottom, became a sea of fire.
As far as the eye could see, there were only raging flames.
Charlie squinted, a smile playing on his lips.
This was the power he wanted.
Charlie waved his wand, and the flames slowly extinguished.
All the dummy targets in the training ground were burned to ashes, and the ground was scorched black.
[Your Majesty almost blew up a thousand-year-old relic of the school, tyrant points + 20]
Charlie opened the door and left, satisfied... In the Principal's office, Professor Dumbledore sat in his chair, gently stroking Fawkes on his perch.
The newly reborn Phoenix was wrinkled all over, like a newborn chick, incredibly ugly.
But Professor Dumbledore still patiently stroked its feathers, humming a tune.
"Fawkes, your rebirth this time was much faster than last time."
He said with a smile.
Fawkes chirped, its voice very tender.
Professor Dumbledore was about to feed it something when he suddenly froze.
His expression instantly turned solemn.
A massive magical fluctuation emanated from the eighth floor; the magic was terrifyingly strong and violently oscillating, which for an ordinary Wizard, was completely on the verge of being out of control.
As the Principal of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore had a special connection with the Castle.
He could sense unusual changes within the Castle.
This fluctuation was simply too strong, so strong that it made his heart skip a beat.
Not only because of this powerful magical fluctuation but also because it appeared in Hogwarts without any warning.
It was as terrifying as suddenly finding a strawberry tart in the toilet, but knowing neither he nor his family had put it there.
Professor Dumbledore stood up, his wand appearing in his hand.
He didn't hesitate, disappearing directly from the office.
The next second, he appeared in the corridor on the eighth floor.
The corridor was quiet, with a portrait of a Troll hitting Barnaby the Barmy hanging on the wall.
But Professor Dumbledore knew that behind the portrait, the Room of Requirement was hidden.
And the terrifying magical fluctuation just now had come from inside it.
Professor Dumbledore frowned.
He knew about the Room of Requirement; this room had existed in Hogwarts for over a thousand years, extremely hidden, and he himself only discovered it by chance after becoming Principal.
But this room had always been safe, never having any problems.
What was wrong today? Had some Dark Wizard broken in?
Professor Dumbledore was about to push the door open and go in to see.
The door suddenly opened from the inside.
Charlie walked out of the door, a satisfied smile still on his face.
He seemed to be in a good mood, as if he had just finished something very satisfying.
Then he looked up and saw Professor Dumbledore.
The two looked at each other for a second.
Charlie froze.
Professor Dumbledore also froze.
The atmosphere was a bit awkward.
Professor Dumbledore's gaze passed over Charlie and fell into the room behind him.
In that instant, Professor Dumbledore's pupils sharply constricted.
What did he see?
Ruins.
A complete and utter ruin.
The entire training ground was scorched black, and the ground was full of huge craters from explosions.
Everything that was originally in the room was gone, leaving only ashes and rubble everywhere.
There were still traces of Spell bombardment on the ceiling, and the walls were also pitted and scarred by explosions.
The scene was almost as if it had just gone through a war.
Professor Dumbledore's mind was a bit slow to process.
He had lived for over a hundred years and seen many scenes; he had witnessed even more ruined places than this.
But seeing a harmless second-year student standing in front of these ruins was a first.
Did Charlie cause these ruins? Why? Was he under too much academic pressure?
His gaze returned to Charlie.
Charlie was scratching his head, an awkward smile on his face.
"Hi, Professor Dumbledore."
Charlie let out a dry laugh.
"Why are you here?"
Professor Dumbledore was silent for a moment.
"Charlie."
His voice was calm, but his eyes held complexity.
"I know you're under a lot of academic pressure. If you have stress, you can tell a Professor, but why blow up the school?"
Charlie blinked, then turned to look at the ruins behind him.
"Oh, that? Professor, you've misunderstood."
He scratched his head.
"I was experimenting with Spells."
Professor Dumbledore: "..."
Experimenting with Spells? You call this experimenting with Spells?
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