"Mr. Jason Heath, you are suspected of violating the Statute of Secrecy. Please come with us."
Jason had just finished laying the floor with dark oak planks when he heard this cold, unfeeling voice.
"Uh..."
Jason looked up at the security door in front of him, then turned back to look at the strangely dressed person holding a small stick...
"Did you climb through the window? Honestly, it's quite unsafe. You could have just knocked, and I would have opened it. Of course, if you're here to rob me, I don't mind... Do you need this watch?"
"It might be worth one or two thousand pounds, but you can't take the phone and wallet, because it's a bit of a commute from my place, you know. My commute for custom furniture is just as annoying as your commute for robbery."
As he spoke, he took off the rather exquisite mechanical wristwatch he was wearing. It probably wasn't worth one or two thousand pounds; he just figured a robber who was reduced to wearing pajamas wouldn't have the appreciation skills.
"Enough! Mr. Jason Heath, I repeat, you are now suspected of violating the Statute of Secrecy. I am an employee of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. You can call me Lester. Now, please come with me."
Lester pulled out his wand and pointed it at Jason.
"Oh... Do you need me to call someone for you? Your family? Or a mental hospital?"
"Sir, there's no need to play dumb. We both know the situation. Believe me, you don't want the Hit Wizards or Aurors coming for you."
Lester slowly took a step forward.
"...I'm sorry, I still don't understand. What's an Auror, what's a Hit Wizard, and what's... the Ministry of Magic?"
"Good heavens, do I look that easy to fool... Stupefy!"
As Jason raised his hand, a two-meter-tall stone pillar instantly appeared before him, blocking the incoming red light.
At the same time, Lester finally smiled: "Still saying you don't know magic? Finally showing your true colors!"
Bang!
A miniature anvil suddenly appeared above his head, knocking him out.
"I'm very sorry, sir, I hope you can forget everything that just happened." As Jason spoke, the obsidian block floating in his hand suddenly turned into a wooden stick about thirty centimeters long.
"No, no, the power doesn't feel enough. A log is just right."
The next moment, a solid log block was released just like that, floating and dancing with his hand.
With a thud.
A ball of dark blue liquid appeared in his hand and was directly splashed onto Lester's face.
"Jason Hea—"
Thud!
"Didn't lose his memory? Not enough force?"
He changed the log to cobblestone, and there was another bang.
"You dare to attack a Ministry of Magic employee, you..."
The block in his hand transformed from one shape to another, from a log to cobblestone. He thought the force was already enough, but this unfortunate employee just held onto his memory like it was his life...
Finally, he pulled out the anvil, deciding to go for something serious.
"Ahem, I don't think that's necessary, do you, Mr. Heath?"
...
Today was Jason Heath's most magical day... or perhaps, his second.
The last time was equally magical was when he first transmigrated. At that time, he was playing [Minecraft] with a commentary on the first [Harry Potter] movie playing in the background. Then his computer short-circuited, and just like that, he arrived in this Different World England.
And he didn't come empty-handed. He had an MC system that could level up by absorbing positive emotions directed at him, including but not limited to favorability, trust, satisfaction, admiration, and so on.
This system materialized into reality as a small block. By now, anything from wooden sticks and planks to fire blocks and water source blocks could appear directly from his hand and affect reality.
Although it couldn't compare to the creative mode of the original [Minecraft], it was more than enough for the concrete jungle of England. For example... opening a custom furniture studio.
And everything that happened today wasn't entirely his fault. The commentary he watched before transmigrating didn't even finish the first movie. If that Ministry of Magic employee had said a little more, like "Where's your wand?" or keywords like "Hogwarts," he might have reacted differently.
Instead, he casually placed a log block and two stair blocks in the center of the room to serve as a table and chairs.
The old man with the white beard opposite him... well, he recognized him. After all, the first scene of the Harry Potter movie commentary was him appearing on a dark street holding a lighter that could absorb light.
At this moment, Dumbledore was curiously examining the stair block he was sitting on and the log block in front of him.
"Is this alchemy?... In any case, it's not Transfiguration. However, I sincerely commend you on your innovative casting method."
Jason felt awkward. The old man in front of him had no hostility whatsoever, even being overly friendly. This made him hesitant to strike, even though he wasn't sure he could win.
But he could try. What was so scary about an old man who liked to collect light sources with a lighter?
Just as he was thinking of quietly placing an anvil on top of Dumbledore's head, just like before, the victim spoke.
"I don't have Lester's sturdy build. Honestly, having an anvil dropped on my head might really take my old life."
Jason nodded in agreement, replacing the anvil with a wooden plank.
"..."
"...Oh, sorry, I thought you weren't talking about me." He put away the plank block as if nothing had happened.
"A never-before-seen casting method. This little block and the magic on your body are of the same origin. It seems you are a natural alchemist, freely transforming and creating. If Nicolas Flamel knew of your existence, he might just excitedly report to Death ahead of schedule."
Dumbledore watched Jason's apparent change of heart and commented with interest.
"Thank you..."
"So, what about you, Mr. Jason Heath? Mind telling me about yourself?"
"I am..."
He said, steeling himself, "A wizard, you see. I was in Sweden before, and I just came to England recently, so I don't know the rules here..."
"Alright, I'm not very good at lying, I really don't have the talent for it. I just woke up one day and had this power, so I used it to open a custom furniture studio, you know, decorating houses, like this."
Jason waved his hand, and the wall in front of him was wrapped in a thick, sturdy layer of wooden planks.
Under his semi-frank words and actions, Dumbledore still maintained that smiling, benevolent look.
[Satisfaction from Dumbledore +10]
Jason didn't know why, but he suddenly felt a chill. Normally, his customers giving him satisfaction was fine.
They were mostly satisfied with the houses he decorated.
But this old man in front of him, why was he generating satisfaction for him? Satisfaction about what?
Dumbledore noticed Jason's strange gaze, his eyes darted around, and he realized what Jason was thinking. He quickly explained, "Don't misunderstand, I'm just praising your frankness."
"Dumbledore... you can't... you can't talk so happily with a wizard who attacked a Ministry of Magic employee... I'm going to appeal, appeal to the Wizengamot!"
Lying on the ground, Lester struggled to lift his eyelids. After saying that, he was once again completely buried by sand falling from the sky.