Victor finally understood why his attempt to replicate the Philosopher's Stone had failed.
It was because he was missing an ingredient—one that was invisible and didn't appear in the 'code,' blending into the Stone like a phantom.
Yet this material was the very soul of the Stone—or rather, its energy source.
"Soul power... I'm missing a massive amount of soul power..." Victor looked at the manuscript with a conflicted expression.
Back then, Nicolas Flamel had spent sixty years of arduous research without being able to find the problem.
It wasn't until the Black Death broke out and people died in droves that his Philosopher's Stone suddenly succeeded...
In this world, when a creature dies and the soul leaves the body, the life force originally contained within the soul gradually dissipates.
Only once this power is fully spent can these souls travel to the land of the dead, or perhaps transform into ghosts...
This dissipating life force could also be called soul power. And that was the final ingredient for the Philosopher's Stone...
When Nicolas Flamel refined the Stone, it was during the peak of the Black Death, and the number of deaths was staggering... The soul power radiating from them was unfathomable.
With the right time, the right place, and the right conditions all aligned, the creation of the Philosopher's Stone had been a natural conclusion.
It was only then that Nicolas Flamel realized what the missing final ingredient truly was.
"A massive amount..." Victor shook his head with a bitter smile.
If he were a Dark Wizard like Voldemort, this material would be easily within reach.
But Victor Wick had been raised with a conscience and a modern moral compass; he couldn't bring himself to commit such an atrocity.
He felt a pang of regret upon realizing he couldn't perfectly replicate the Stone.
However, he quickly rallied his spirits.
Even if he couldn't make a perfect replica, he could still create a prototype that possessed some of its functions.
Since he could make such a prototype, he could tinker with it slightly and then use it on Voldemort!
Victor's eyebrows rose slightly. "With a gain like this, these past few days of hard work haven't been in vain!"
He flipped through Flamel's manuscript again. As he read, he extracted that portion of his memory as a backup and tucked it into a bottle that had originally held an Invigoration Draught.
By the time he finished the manuscript, he had already extracted and backed up all the core memories.
Afterward, he pulled over a piece of parchment, wrote down some of his ideas, and placed the parchment back into Vanishing Cabinet No. 5 along with the manuscript.
After a short while, the Vanishing Cabinet suddenly let out a chime.
Victor reopened the cabinet and saw that the manuscript he had just placed inside was gone, replaced by a new letter.
"A brilliant idea. I suggest using the soul power of magical creatures. All magical creatures possess magic; the more powerful the creature, the stronger their soul power. Using such soul power to create a prototype Philosopher's Stone can achieve a near-perfect imitation. However, a Stone created this way is like a tree without roots or water without a source—once its magic is exhausted, it will simply break. I suggest you make these modifications..."
Victor set the letter down, a faint smile spreading across his face. "That really is a good way..."
After thinking it over, he once again extracted this memory as a backup and stuffed it into the bottle.
Victor picked up the bottle, planning to hide it away as he always did.
He had already accumulated many such bottles...
Extracting these memories prevented him from forgetting such important knowledge, allowing him to review them at any time.
But...
He looked at the bottle in his hand, his brow gradually furrowing.
Storing his memories this way wasn't an ideal long-term solution. His previous backups didn't matter much—they were just knowledge about Ancient Runes—but these were memories concerning the Philosopher's Stone! If Voldemort ever discovered them...
'These memories came from my mind in the first place. Perhaps... I can find a way to build a database inside my own head... I'd only need a few keywords to recall the content directly... In a way, it would be like having an eidetic memory!'
Reinvigorated by the thought, Victor straightened up, pulled his keyboard toward him, and began typing away once more!
...
Dorset.
Victor Wick's figure appeared directly on a secluded path in the countryside.
He looked toward a small river in the distance. To Muggle eyes, there was nothing there, but in the eyes of a wizard, there stood a modestly styled house.
A yard was crudely fenced off around the house. Inside, a Crup and several Kneazles were chasing each other around.
A thin figure was crouching in a corner of the yard, examining a massive Graphorn.
"Woof, woof, woof!"
The Crup let out a series of low barks when it saw Victor approaching.
The thin figure turned toward the yard gate, a smile appearing on his face.
"Ah... Victor, it's been a long time. You look just as young as you did ten years ago!" Newt Scamander observed Victor with some surprise.
"It has indeed been a long time, Mr. Scamander," Victor said with a smile as he stood at the gate.
"I heard you've been busy helping Albus lately?" Newt walked over quickly and opened the gate.
Newt was ninety-seven years old now; though his hair was silver-white, there weren't many wrinkles on his face.
Moreover, he seemed to be in very good health, moving with a surprising briskness for those few steps.
This was perhaps due to the frequent physical exercise he needed in his youth...
There was no helping it; when dealing with magical creatures, one side or the other usually ended up having to make a run for it.
"Yes... that's why I came today. I wanted to ask how one goes about not being worked like a mule by Professor Dumbledore," Victor said with a sigh.
"Hahaha..." Newt was amused by Victor's words.
Victor said this because back when Grindelwald was wreaking havoc, Newt had been dispatched by Dumbledore to handle plenty of grueling and dangerous tasks.
And now, it could be said that Victor had taken over Newt's position...
Opening this way allowed him to quickly close the distance between him and Newt, making the ensuing conversation much more relaxed.
It also ensured the shy Newt wouldn't feel awkward due to a sudden, unannounced visit.
Newt welcomed Victor inside, and they sat down at a round table in the yard.
It was clear Newt had been resting there a moment ago; even the tea was still hot.
"The first trick to not being worked like a... 'mule' by Albus is to never, ever agree to any teaching position he offers you."
Thanks to Victor's earlier icebreaker, the shy Newt made a rare joke.
"No wonder... you never accepted Professor Dumbledore's offer to be the Professor for Care of Magical Creatures. So that was it," Victor said with some mock regret. "Though it's a bit late for that advice; I've already accepted a post..."
"Mainly, I just don't like being stuck in an office... or being confined to work in one place," Newt said softly. "Dealing with magical creatures in the wild is where my passion lies. Fortunately, a book I wrote was designated as a textbook by the Department of Education, which solved one of Albus's educational headaches..."
"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is a wonderful book, Mr. Scamander," Victor said earnestly. "It's been very helpful for my Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. After all, many dark creatures are considered magical creatures. That's actually the main reason for my visit."
Hearing this, Newt's mood brightened visibly.
Newt's personality was just that simple; though he was somewhat socially anxious and lacked silver-tongued eloquence, he became genuinely happy if someone praised him in his area of expertise.
"Mr. Scamander, what's wrong with that Graphorn over there?" Victor asked casually.
"Oh... Bob is very old now. He often has minor ailments, and perhaps... his life is nearing its end." Newt's tone grew somber. "I'm retired now, but I can never truly stay idle, so I bring these old fellows back here to look after them..."
Victor looked at the aging Graphorn in the corner, a glint in his eye. This was a stroke of luck...
"So you're saying you have many aging magical creatures like this here?"
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