World Hopping With Gacha

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when I finished securing the package—a neat bundle of M4 ammunition rounds tied to Garuda's back. I added a small note that read, 'Don't forget to feed Garuda some meat.'

"Off you go, buddy," I said, patting him on his feathered head. Garuda squawked in understanding before taking off into the skies, his massive wings slicing through the morning air as he flew toward the Mafia hideout.

Business was steady despite my limited availability. Hogwarts didn't mean my operations had to stop. I was here to train myself, not play the hero. I had no interest in Quirrell, Voldemort, or even Harry Potter's story. Once I graduated, I was planning to dip out of the wizarding world entirely. My focus was simple: self-improvement and survival.

---

The Grind was about to officially begin.

For the next week, my routine was locked in:

1. Wake up early.

2. Train in the Room of Requirement.

3. Have breakfast.

4. Attend classes and actually pay attention.

5. Complete homework during lunch.

6. Train again in the evening.

7. Dinner, then sleep.

The Room of Requirement was my sanctuary. I experimented with Magecraft, practiced swordsmanship with Caliburn, and even dabbled in physical combat. By the end of each day, I was exhausted, but it felt good to see progress.

---

The monotony broke with our first Flying class, a joint session with Gryffindor and Slytherin. We gathered on the lawn, brooms neatly lined up in rows, as Madam Hooch instructed us to stand beside them.

"Stick out your hand and say 'Up!'" she commanded.

I followed suit, saying "Up!" with authority, as if I were Sung Jin-Woo summoning his shadows with a commanding "Arise." The broom leaped into my hand immediately.

Nice.

Mounting the broom was another matter. After adjusting for a bit—trying not to crush anything important—I managed to hover a few feet off the ground. It felt... surreal. The rush of air, the slight sway of the broom—it was freedom, and I liked it.

But the peace didn't last.

Neville Longbottom, lost control of his broom. It shot up like a rocket, smashing into a wall before he plummeted back to the ground, breaking his arm in the process. Madam Hooch whisked him off to the Infirmary, leaving the rest of us unsupervised.

---

Seizing the moment, Draco Malfoy picked up Neville's Remembrall, smirking like he owned the world.

"Give it back, Malfoy!" Harry shouted, stepping forward.

I had to stifle a laugh as the two boys squared off. The situation itself wasn't funny, but the way Harry demanded Malfoy return "Neville's balls" was hilarious.

Two kids fighting over another kid's balls? Comedy gold.

Malfoy taunted Harry, soaring into the air on his broom with the Remembrall in hand. Not one to back down, Harry mounted his broom and took off after him.

The chase ended with Malfoy tossing the Remembrall into the air. Harry dove for it and, in a spectacular display of skill, caught it just inches from the ground.

Impressive, Potter.

I couldn't help but wonder, though—what would have happened if the Remembrall had shattered? Would some kind of gas escape? Would it explode? The thought amused me as I muttered under my breath, "Guess both Gryffindor and Slytherin aren't the best choices after all."

---

Apparently, my muttering hadn't gone unnoticed. Daphne Greengrass, a quiet but sharp-looking Slytherin girl, turned to me with a curious expression.

"What do you mean by 'choice'?" she asked.

I glanced at her, debating how much to say, before replying, "When the Sorting Hat was on my head, it gave me two options—Gryffindor or Slytherin."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "So why didn't you choose Slytherin?"

I smirked. "Well, it wouldn't be very cunning for a Slytherin to actually choose Slytherin, now would it?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my reasoning.

"But hey," I added with a mock sigh, "I do feel bad for you. You lot have to tolerate a ferret for seven years."

It took her a moment to realize I was referring to Malfoy, but when she did, she let out a small, genuine laugh.

"Fair point," she admitted.

---

The day ended like any other: dinner in the Great Hall, some idle chatter with my housemates, and a brief trip back to the Room of Requirement before bed.

But as I lay in my four-poster bed that night, staring at the canopy above, I reflected on the day.

I'd avoided drawing too much attention to myself so far, but moments like the one with Daphne reminded me that Hogwarts wasn't just a place for learning magic—it was a place for building connections.

Still, I couldn't let myself get too attached. My goals were clear: train, grow stronger, and prepare for whatever the future held. Everything else was just a distraction.

---Note

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