Hogwarts: I Really Don't Want to Be a Wizard - Chapter 139

c138 Benefactor, little mute

Although Grete is not yet an adult, thanks to his abundant nutrition, his height and other features have long been about the same as those of an adult.

The only thing that can still be related to a minor is his handsome face.

The little guy who came to save him was still young and too weak. He dragged Gretel back and forth along the way, stopping to rest from time to time.

But even though he was about to fall down from exhaustion, whenever he took a break, he didn’t say anything about throwing Gretel to the ground.

Every time, Grete was carefully supported and leaned against the nearby alley wall as much as possible.

Not only that, every time he stopped to settle down, he would carefully peel off Grete’s upper body clothes, carefully put his ear to his chest, and feel the weak heartbeat that might stop beating at any time.

Only when you hear the small but firm beating of your heart can you temporarily relax your tense body.

Gretel didn’t know where this little guy was going to drag him. His legs had been swimming in the sewage for a long time.

The originally clean and straight pants were now all wet, with gravel and other debris getting in from the joint between the shoes and the trouser legs.

Fortunately, Grete never wronged himself, and the quality of the clothes he wore was considered to be of the highest quality.

Otherwise, if I drag it on the ground like this, not only will there be a big hole in my pants, but my legs will also be bruised and bloody.

Gretel was curious about what era it was now, and why the alley wall he was leaning on felt like wood.

Then there was the little guy who was dragging him forward with difficulty. Why did he suddenly want to drag him up from the muddy water?

Didn’t he obviously give him a break from the beginning?

Also, why did this little guy keep silent, whether he was beating the mouse like crazy or groping around on him.

Or maybe when I was carrying him now, I didn’t say a word. To be precise, except for the gasping when breathing and the muffled groan coming from the nasal cavity when exerting force, there was no other sound.

Isn’t he a little mute?

At such a young age, he is still mute.

Depending on the situation, it’s better to live alone, otherwise you won’t be working hard for a mouse.

As for the purpose of catching mice, Gretel knew it without even using his brain. It must be to satisfy his hunger.

When he was still in the orphanage, he saw many such children at the dock.

The capacity of St. Mary’s Welfare Home was limited, so Mrs. Swann lived frugally and squeezed out rare rations from between her teeth.

At that time, when he was brought to deliver meals to these children, he saw with his own eyes that the children at the dock were eating rat meat to satisfy their hunger.

In other words, the rats at the pier were all fat, which allowed many children to survive the hardships and not let them all die from the hardships of life.

Looking at it this way, the little guy who is saving him now is also such a pitiful person.

In fact, he is even more difficult than the children at the dock. He is a little mute who knows how much suffering he will suffer.

Wandering children are also good at flattering others and suppressing others. In order to fill their stomachs, they don’t mind showing off the inherent malice of human nature.

Children like Little Mute are naturally easily bullied.

When he was in trouble, Grete had no thoughts of blame.

Gretel didn’t feel any resentment at all when the little guy took the thing away.

He only regrets that he may never see the career he has built again, and he doesn’t know if Seni and the others can lead Dawn to create a new era so that all wizards can live freely in this world.

But thinking about it, there probably won’t be any problems.

Grete, who has long been familiar with the unexpected events in life, leads Sugon’s core comrades every year to summarize their gains and make some plans for the future.

The only difference is the level of detail of these plans.

Like the second year, they will prepare everything to be done together in every detail.

For three to five years, or even longer, a general charter will be drawn up, and major events will be broken down into small goals.

But he didn’t have time to think about that now.

If no one saves him, he will die. The worst he can do is meet the God of Death.

But now that little guy, the little mute, has worked so hard to save him, maybe he can still struggle.

If it just happened like this, he would not be willing to die.

He didn’t know how long he would have to walk, but Grete felt that the little mute’s strength was about to run out.

The upper body that originally supported him on his back has slid down again and again.

At the beginning, the little mute could still work hard and lift his body up with all his strength.

But now, I have to stop and rest after only taking a few steps.

Even now I don’t put him down completely, most likely because I am afraid that I will really put him down and won’t be able to carry him on my back again.

The rise and fall of the chest became weaker and weaker, and it seemed that there was only air coming in and no air coming out of the nose.

The brain that was originally clear and clear has now begun to become chaotic, and the soul that was originally excited seems to be covered with a layer of darkness for some reason.

I don’t know if I can become a ghost again.

Gretel’s mind gradually became confused, and his only thought was how he would greet the little mute if he turned into a ghost.

He didn’t know if the ghost could still use magic power. If so, he wanted to open his small bag. He remembered that there were a lot of gold Galleons inside.

Probably, he can help this little mute who suddenly came to save him.

The feeling of his limbs gradually disappeared. He could no longer feel the friction of the mud and sand or the coldness of the sewage.

Perhaps he was running out of energy. Even the soul that dominated his body began to become ignorant.

The last energy of his body was supplied to his heart, leaving its last beat in this world.

Death was really uncomfortable.

All his senses were blocked, and endless darkness gradually surrounded Grete.

He struggled to support himself and tried to make the little mute feel more relaxed, but he lost the strength.

Finally, his body trembled, and the little mute froze in place.

He felt that the only warmth of the man he had been carrying seemed to have disappeared.

The only thing that was still warm was the wrist that he had been holding tightly.

But he could tell that the warmth was his own.

It started to rain again, and the cold rain hit the alley full of sewage.

Perhaps it was a long time, or perhaps it was just a moment. The little mute bit his lips, held his breath, and dragged Gret to the side of the road. There was a protruding eaves on the roof, which could barely block some rain.

——

Gret felt a strange temperature coming from his lips, gentle, but it seemed a little burning.

The hot liquid soaked his lips, poured into his mouth, rushed into his throat, and then turned into rare heat, soaking his limbs and bones.

The stopped heart felt the stimulation of the heat, slowly but powerfully, and started to work again, dong dong~dong dong~dong dong…

…

I don’t know how long it took, Gret’s hearing was lost and recovered, and he heard a rustling sound.

Then someone squeezed in from somewhere, Gret could hear, and walked carefully to his side.

It was the little mute.

When those hands touched him, Gret knew the identity of the person.

Those slender hands pulled him all the way, difficult, but firm.

Many times, when Grete thought that he would never be able to pull himself back on his back, the little mute would always squeeze out some strength from somewhere.

He dragged him out of the sewage with great effort, and then stepped into the next sewage.

“It seems that I can’t become a ghost.”

Grete could feel that his condition was gradually getting better, although slowly, but steadily enough.

The little mute brought a broken bowl to Grete’s mouth, and the bowl edge with potholes and cracks scratched his lips.

It was hot soup, and the desire of the body made Grete open his mouth involuntarily, swallowing the rare heat in big mouthfuls.

Along with the hot soup, there was also a very slender skeleton, with some meat, breaking into Grete’s mouth.

It was a mouse, and it might be the mouse that once wanted to treat him as food.

Grete actually felt a little funny for a while. The attack and defense changed, who would have thought that the hunter became the prey, and finally became a piece of meat in his mouth.

He didn’t feel any nausea, at this time, he had no right to be picky.

Besides, even if he wanted to be picky, he didn’t have the conditions to do so. The little mute probably didn’t have any other food.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have targeted the wild mice that were digging for food in the gutter all day long.

Gret swallowed halfway and then closed his lips tightly.

He heard the little mute swallowing that he couldn’t hide.

It seems that the little mute gave his own rations to him.

When he thought of this, Gret couldn’t open his mouth anymore.

He couldn’t repay kindness with hatred. That thin body needed this bowl of broth more than him.

Besides, he has the possibility of recovery now. Even if he doesn’t eat, he can rely on energy to maintain it a little.

What if, because he ate the last half bowl of soup, the little guy went to see the guy of death, how could he, Gret, repay his kindness.

But he was helpless. The little guy was much more determined than him.

Even though Gret had expressed his resistance so clearly, the little guy didn’t give up.

There was no way. Although Gret regained his consciousness, he also saw the possibility of recovering health.

But now he still had no strength, and could only let the little mute do whatever he wanted.

The little guy helped Gret to lean against him, and firmly stretched out his hand to open Gret’s teeth.

With the other hand holding the bowl, he irresistibly fed the soup and meat into Gret’s mouth.

Until the end of the feeding, he reluctantly hung the last drop of soup on Gret’s lips for a few times before putting down the bowl.

He put Gret down again, picked up a few bags from the side, piled them on Gret, and then went out along the place where he got in.

Gret took a deep breath, and the pungent smell from his nose instantly sent a signal to stop his body.

He could tell that the smell here was the smell of a garbage dump.

Only a garbage dump has this complex smell, and it is a garbage dump mixed with living and production garbage.

It seems that this is the base of the little mute.

Gret silently mobilized his body and tried to recover quickly.

After he recovers, at least he can return to the civilized country and give him a real human life.

I don’t know how long it took, but the rustling sound appeared again.

The little guy arrived as promised, but this time, the roar from his stomach was much smaller.

It seems that the little mute has a good harvest today, and Grete is happy for him.

Finally, he didn’t have to worry about whether the little guy would starve to death because of the half bowl of soup that was forced down his throat.

This time, the soup was not rat meat. Grete asked about the taste of real food.

Although, it didn’t taste so delicious.

It was a bit like the smell of the bucket used to deal with leftovers at the back door of the small restaurant around St. Mary’s Welfare Home.

The little mute probably found some restaurant waste today.

As time passed, Grete’s body began to recover a little bit, although he still couldn’t see anything and couldn’t move his limbs.

But after all, he was no longer in a state where a gust of wind could take his life.

Grete kept counting the days. It had been about a week since he regained consciousness.

After getting out of that near-death state, the little guy gave him the coat that was stripped from him and his small bag.

He stuffed it into his arms.

Grete wanted to say that letting the little guy use these things would at least improve his life a little bit. Anyway, in his current state, there was nothing he could do with these things.

But he couldn’t make a sound. Gret and the little guy both became dumb.

The little dumb took care of the paralyzed big dumb.

Gret lay in the garbage dump every day, and the little guy came to feed him at regular times.

When they were lucky, they drank broth together, or ate some surprisingly hard bread.

When they were unlucky, they could only drink water together to fill their stomachs.

But no matter what, the little guy never gave up on him, not once.

From time to time, Gret could still hear faint shouting and cursing from a distance. From the sound, it seemed that someone was being caught.

No wonder the little guy hid him, probably because he was afraid that he would be caught.

Gret lay here every day in fear. He was not worried about himself, he was only worried about the little dumb.

Worried that he would be caught by someone, worried that he would have an accident.

Fortunately, the little dumb was very alert.

Every time there was a sound, the little guy would rush into the garbage dump, run to him, snuggle up to him tightly, and wrap the two of them tightly with garbage.

After staying here for so long, Grete has gotten used to the smell here, and he will no longer be choked when taking a deep breath.

He can even distinguish the smell of the little mute in this stench.

Although living in a garbage dump, the little guy will find clean water every day to wipe both of them, trying to maintain the dignity of a human.

Otherwise, Grete believes that his whole body would have become a nest of insects.

Get well soon.

Every time Grete feels the little mute’s suppressed and nervous breathing, he will pray anxiously in his heart.

At least, let him be able to move.