Time flew by, and soon several weeks had passed.
Apart from attending normal classes, Kyle spent this period either researching his own magic or activating his Lightning Release to temper his physique.
As for how the Weasley twins' alchemy firearm modification plan was progressing, Kyle hadn't paid much attention to it.
If George and Fred had any results, they would come find him themselves.
During this time, Hermione also managed to find an opportunity to block Dumbledore at the entrance to the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor, reporting to him that Kyle was hoarding a large stockpile of munitions inside Hogwarts.
To Hermione's surprise, Dumbledore simply told her he would handle it, and then... there was no "then."
Days passed one by one, and Kyle and the mischievous Weasley brothers continued to do whatever they pleased.
As for the expected punishments—such as confiscating the firearms—there were none whatsoever.
Hermione was somewhat confused.
Was Headmaster Dumbledore really just going to let this slide?
In reality, Dumbledore couldn't really manage it.
Last school year, he had sealed off all the secret passages in Hogwarts leading to Hogsmeade. As a result, the four members of the "Father-Worriers Alliance" immediately switched to a different method of travel—climbing the walls.
Dumbledore could have used a barrier to seal off the entire perimeter wall of Hogwarts, but that was a measure intended only for when the school was in a state of crisis.
Moreover, if he sealed the walls, who knew what method the four of them would switch to next?
Digging tunnels?
Kyle's wine cellar had also been sealed, but that was useless; it couldn't stop a few underage wizards from sneaking drinks.
Kyle and his group could always obtain alcohol in ways Dumbledore couldn't imagine.
The most outrageous method was fermenting their own alcohol using grain right inside their dormitory.
And now, with the matter of the firearms...
Dumbledore had given up.
Judging by Kyle's behavior over these past few months, although Kyle wasn't exactly a stickler for the rules, he was very rational.
Perhaps his years of wandering had given Kyle a maturity beyond his peers; he knew what could be done and what couldn't, and he understood the gravity of his actions.
At the very least, Dumbledore didn't have to worry about a school shooting or anything of the sort happening at Hogwarts.
So, he decided to let him be.
One day later, a notice was posted in the Hufflepuff common room—on Thursday morning, the Hufflepuff badgers would be taking flying lessons with the Ravenclaw eagles.
Meanwhile, Gryffindor and Slytherin would have their flying lesson in the afternoon.
As a house where Muggle-born wizards made up the vast majority, most Hufflepuff students had never touched a broomstick before, and they had only heard of Quidditch for the first time after coming to Hogwarts.
Everyone from a wizarding family talked endlessly about Quidditch.
Those from Muggle families, however, could only discuss the differences between Quidditch and football.
Kyle heard from Hermione that over in Gryffindor, a large group of students spent all day bragging about their flying skills.
They told many self-aggrandizing stories, usually ending with how they had narrowly avoided a Muggle helicopter or a jet plane.
Kyle, knowing exactly what pure-blood wizards were like, didn't believe a word of this nonsense.
The vast majority of them probably didn't even know what a helicopter or a jet looked like.
As Thursday drew closer, the young wizards became increasingly nervous.
Even those who had boasted about how amazing their flying skills were proved to be no exception.
At breakfast on Thursday morning, Hermione and Hannah had their heads pressed together, studying a book borrowed from the library called Quidditch Through the Ages.
They were mainly reading the flying instructions in the book, hoping it would be of some help for their lesson.
Only Kyle remained perfectly calm.
He had already played around with hang gliders alongside Buckbeak a few times.
While in France, he had also ridden broomsticks several times accompanied by Alfred.
As a master falconer, a mere broomstick posed absolutely no challenge to him.
The arrival of the owl post interrupted the two little girls' study of Quidditch Through the Ages.
An owl brought a small package from Neville's grandmother to the chubby boy.
Neville opened it excitedly and showed everyone a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be filled with white smoke.
Kyle recognized the object as a Remembrall.
If you held it tightly and the smoke inside turned red, it meant you had forgotten to do something.
The Remembrall in Neville's hand had just turned red.
The chubby boy tried desperately to recall what he had forgotten.
Just then, Draco Malfoy passed by the Gryffindor table and snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.
"Hey! Draco!" Kyle called out to him, forming the Tiger Seal with his hands. "Do you want to experience that again?"
Malfoy's face darkened; he quickly threw the Remembrall back onto the table and scurried away, with Crabbe and Goyle following close behind.
With just a few words, Kyle had scared off Draco and made him obediently return the Remembrall to Neville.
Ron, who was always getting into conflicts with Draco, suddenly felt that Kyle was incredibly imposing.
"Kyle, what did that hand sign you just made mean?" Ron asked with a bit of curiosity.
It wasn't the first time he had seen Kyle make that gesture.
Every time George and Fred saw that hand sign, they would obediently shut their mouths and flee the scene.
"Oh, you mean this," Kyle made the Tiger Seal again. "It's a move from a fighting style called 'One Thousand Years of Death.'"
Ron's eyes lit up. "Can I learn it?"
Kyle's gaze swept up and down Ron's small frame.
"Learning Taijutsu requires enough perseverance to stick to training. For example, I crawl out of my warm bed every day before dawn for morning exercises. Can you do that?"
Ron looked at Kyle with the fearful expression one might give a monster. "Every day... get up before dawn?"
"Back when the two of us were learning magic from Kyle..."
"...We were also dragged out of bed by him every day before dawn."
George and Fred offered their personal testimonies.
Ron looked at his two brothers with an even stranger expression.
Getting up before dawn every day—was that something a normal human could do?
He suddenly felt that learning fighting wasn't so appealing anymore.
Wizards, after all, were supposed to hold wands and go pew pew at each other, right?
What was the point of learning that fighting stuff?
Kyle had long realized that Ron was just caught up in the heat of the moment and didn't truly want to learn Taijutsu, so he wasn't surprised by his reaction.
"You don't have to learn fighting. I can teach you a few small tricks that will let you easily deal with people like Crabbe and Goyle."
Ron's enthusiasm returned, and even Harry pricked up his ears to listen carefully.
"If you want to deal with those two—they are taller and stronger than you—so you have to utilize the advantage of your agility."
Ron nodded like a pestle pounding garlic.
"You can wait for the second move to initiate your attack. When they lunge at you, you just need to borrow their momentum and execute a back drop, slamming them head-first into the ground. A twisted neck will knock them out."
Ron felt something was a bit off, but he still thought what Kyle said made a lot of sense.
"You can also feign weakness to the enemy to make them lower their guard. When they turn to leave, pounce on them, jump onto their backs, take them down, and give them a Cross Armbreaker."
Kyle gestured to Harry and Ron, showing them what a locked-in Cross Armbreaker looked like.
"Once the Cross Armbreaker is locked in, it's unsolvable. You can easily snap their arms."
Harry had already silently pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began taking notes.
"Or you can use a sliding tackle. As a boy, the most vulnerable place is the 'lower three paths'."
Kyle's gaze shifted downward.
"Execute a sliding tackle to pass underneath them, and then, holding something in your hand, stab upwards at their nether regions..."
Ron and Harry imagined the consequences of their own nether regions being attacked and nodded frantically.
"Is there more? Is there more?" Ron asked eagerly.
Kyle spread his hands, indicating to Ron that there were no more moves.
"Learn these three moves first. Don't bite off more than you can chew. Besides, these three moves are enough for you to deal with Draco and his two goons."
"Alright." Ron turned his body back toward the Gryffindor table.
As he ate his breakfast, he imagined the scene of himself punching Draco and kicking Crabbe after mastering these three moves.
After turning back to the Hufflepuff table, Kyle let out a mischievous heh-heh laugh.
What he had just taught those two were the moves of the "Five Tiger Generals" famous on the internet forums in his past life.
If one didn't have the constitution to fight someone for seventy-five minutes and run thirty kilometers afterward, a Ron who learned these moves would, in all likelihood, just be using that sliding tackle to serve himself up on a platter to Draco.
After all, people have different constitutions; one cannot generalize.
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