If Roger's first impression of Diagon Alley was the horror of twisted magic, then his impression of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was astonishing in a different sense.
At St Mungo's, he saw all sorts of bizarre injuries. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes on the first floor, the Department of পাগল Infections on the third, the Department of Potion and Plant Poisoning on the fourth, and the Department of Spell Damage on the fifth all had individuals who had experimented with magic and ended up in the hospital.
There were also patients who had been admitted due to various accidents.
Faces that grew elephant trunks, bodies that became mechanized, hands and feet that flowed with lava, and insides riddled with countless unknown parasites…
And those wizards without external wounds were often more severely injured, suffering from memory loss, shattered souls, curses, and even forms of injury that Roger had never imagined.
After witnessing the pioneering spirit and self-destructive tendencies of wizards, as well as the dangers of the magical world, Roger felt he had come to the right place.
Since these seemingly intractable patients could be healed by the hospital's healers, his own minor issue should be even less of a problem.
And indeed, things turned out as Roger had predicted. The healers diagnosed Roger's condition as requiring surgery that day, observation for one day, and discharge on the third day.
...
Clang, clang...
The sound of metal colliding echoed as Roger fiddled with his fingertips.
Metal fragments with traces of blood scraped against a metal tray.
These were seven bullet fragments in total.
Even with a certain degree of precognition, Roger couldn't avoid getting injured in the terrifying and chaotic war.
Some of the fragments in his body had become embedded in the flesh due to being there for too long, while others were too close to vital organs and major arteries. Removing them with modern medical means would carry significant risks and potentially cause secondary damage. Therefore, Roger had to come to this magical hospital, which had treated all sorts of strange injuries, to have them dealt with.
The first fragment was from his arm, embedded in the original owner's body before he possessed it.
The second fragment was from his calf, sustained when he was hit by shrapnel while fleeing in a panic shortly after arriving in this world.
The third was from his waist and abdomen. After being shot, he bled uncontrollably and almost died. It was a local Kuwaiti who saved him with his last remaining medicine.
In the face of life and death, his first magical surge granted him the ability to foresee crises related to himself.
The fourth fragment hit him while he was collecting survival supplies, during a time when his ability was still unstable.
The fifth was sustained when his ability had stabilized, and he believed himself to be the chosen one.
Sometimes, even if you foresee danger, your body is too weak to dodge it all.
This one bullet shattered Roger's arrogance.
The sixth, Roger could have dodged, but he risked his life to save a child and was shot.
This shot, according to Roger's calculations, was not meant to be fatal.
And the last shot… made Roger understand the fickleness of human hearts.
Looking at these bullet fragments, Roger fell silent for a moment. Then, he withdrew his thoughts from the tumultuous memories, took out seven small plastic bags, the kind used for 2-inch photos, collected the seven fragments from the tray, and labeled them with a marker.
Ritual Magic is ubiquitous. When everything forms a connection and causality with other existences, it often gives birth to special mystical significance.
Just like Voldemort's resurrection, which used his father's bone, willingly donated by his subordinate's flesh, and Harry's blood, forcibly taken.
These are typical rituals that utilize the mystical symbolism of causal relationships.
Ritual Magic is very magical and possesses great power in this world, not just for resurrection.
Currently, one of the ultimate forms of Transfiguration, the Animagus transformation, involves a considerable amount of Ritual Magic.
For example, the first step requires holding a Mandrake leaf in one's mouth for a month without spitting it out. Then, the leaf is taken out during a full moon to make a potion, followed by completing other steps in stormy weather.
Many powerful rituals have strict material requirements. Some of these bullets nearly cost Roger his life, while others caused significant changes in his psyche, imbuing them with extraordinary mystical significance. Naturally, Roger would not carelessly discard things that might prove useful.
Roger has always adhered to one principle: "Foresight is a good habit worth cultivating for the vast majority of people."
Unless absolutely necessary, Roger rarely engages in battles unprepared.
After packing the bullet fragments, Roger began to pack his belongings.
He didn't bring anything else, only a few books.
With surgery on the first day, observation on the second, and discharge on the third, Roger didn't want to waste even a single day.
Carrying his bag, Roger headed to the front desk on the first floor of St Mungo's to settle his bill.
Roger's surgery would have been difficult to handle at a Muggle hospital, but for the healers at St Mungo's, it was merely a simple task, akin to cupping therapy at a bathhouse. They would cut open the flesh, remove the fragments, use potions like Sleekeazy's to heal the wounds and replenish blood, and then it was over.
Therefore, it didn't cost much.
"Hmm?" Although he had been away from the battlefield for quite some time, as a Seer, Roger's senses remained sharp.
While settling his bill, he suddenly sensed someone staring at him.
Following the direction of his perception, he saw an old woman and a somewhat dazed-looking young boy.
The one looking at him was the child, who appeared to be around his age.
This combination, this location, these characteristics...
Roger had a rough idea of who the other person was.
Neville Longbottom, who many jokingly called the Sword Saint of Gryffindor.
His parents had been driven mad by Death Eaters using the Unforgivable Curses and had been hospitalized at St Mungo's for nearly ten years without recovery.
The reason the Three Unforgivable Curses were unforgivable was that they had no counter-curses; once struck, there was no cure... at least, not currently.
As for why he seemed a bit slow, it was a side effect of having a Memory Charm cast on him as a child to forget the tragic experience of being captured by Death Eaters with his parents.
After confirming the other person posed no threat, Roger gave him a slight smile, nodded in a friendly gesture, and then looked away.
Although he recognized the person, Roger had no intention of interacting with him or getting close.
What Roger pursued was eternal life, and the infinite wonders that the long passage of time after achieving it would bring.
He didn't plan to be too distracted by other matters when he needed to race against time.
However...
Although Roger Virgil was quite good in terms of talent and ability, that didn't mean he had no flaws.
Roger actually had a minor issue: sometimes he wasn't quite sure of his position in others' eyes. Naturally unconcerned about how others viewed him, he had always been rather insensitive in this regard.
Just like how he hadn't noticed how much of a stir his casual remarks had caused in Professor McGonagall's mind.
He only realized things in hindsight after being explicitly reminded, much like the obvious fear shown by many wizards in The Leaky Cauldron.
So, as he turned to leave, he overlooked one thing.
That is, the strong themselves become the center of the vortex of fate. For a powerful Seer, of whom there were very few in the entire wizarding civilization, many things would find their way to you even if you didn't want to deal with them.
And in a world where power was self-contained, even a casual wave from the strong could evolve into a devastating storm of fate that swept across countless people!
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