[13 Rhine District, cafeteria at the bottom of the smokestack, Mr. Tiger Shelby]
The erald green handwriting on the envelope looked like printed text, yet it gave Tiger a strange sense of familiarity—like a half-rembered dream clawing at the edges of his consciousness.
"Parchnt..."
"Quite retro..."
Tiger lifted the letter from the pot and lit the stove beneath it with practiced ease.
After all, this Scottish Round-Faced Chicken had flown into the pot by itself. Since it had done all the preliminary work for him, it would be unprofessional not to follow through with the cooking. Professional courtesy and all that.
The wax seal in the center of the envelope bore a capital H, surrounded by four animals: a lion, snake, eagle, and badger—heraldic creatures that seed to watch him with ancient eyes.
The Shelby Family also used wax seals when sending letters, but this practice had beco quite rare in modern tis.
In a trance, Tiger seed to see the correspondence between English nobility of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, though he didn't recognize which family this particular seal belonged to.
Tiger curiously opened the envelope.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Supre Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards; Chief Warlock, Wizengamot; Order of rlin, First Class)
Dear Mr. Shelby,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipnt.
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress
Besides the acceptance letter, the envelope also contained a piece of parchnt listing the books and supplies needed for enrollnt—standard textbooks with nas like "The Standard Book of Spells" and "A History of Magic."
Tiger's gaze grew distant. He didn't continue reading, but suddenly rembered where this letter ca from...
"Harry Potter and..."
"What was it..."
In his previous life, he'd watched a short segnt in the underground boxing rest room, though he'd left for a match soon after. But he vaguely rembered a bespectacled little boy cheering joyfully amid a deluge of letters—letters just like this one.
"So..."
"I'm not the only special one?"
Tiger's breathing grew heavy as the depression buried deep in his heart was completely released in that instant. The weight he'd carried—the burden of being utterly alone in his strangeness—suddenly lifted.
"Hahaha!"
"Venom, you son of a bitch!"
"You finally don't have to hide anymore!"
[Shut up, Tiger, you crude bastard! You don't deserve to wear that suit!]
[I never had to hide in the first place!]
[If you hadn't refused to let split...]
Though Venom kept cursing at Tiger, the joy in its voice was impossible to suppress—like a prisoner finally seeing sunlight after years in solitary confinent.
The good news was that it had found its damned kind.
The better news was that this damned kind wasn't a bloody symbiote!
Just then, the speaker perched atop the kitchen suddenly crackled with intermittent electrical sounds.
"Hello, hello..."
"Mr. Shelby... please..."
"Damn it, Monte, give that son-of-a-bitch microphone, Tiger's getting impatient..."
"Shut up, I'm the warden, Tommy, you idiot, get the hell away from or else..."
"Bang, smack!"
"Fuck you!"
"Sour pickle bitch!"
[Here cos the regular show.]
[Looks like you're getting out, you bastard.]
[Not even half a day—that was too fast this ti.]
Since he hadn't gotten to eat any chocolate beans during this imprisonnt, Venom's tone was full of regret and complaint.
Listening to the clanging curses and fighting sounds from the speaker, Tiger couldn't help but grin with genuine amusent.
Relationship-wise, Warden Monte Leal and his second brother Tommy Shelby were childhood friends who'd grown up bare-assed together.
But honestly, he'd always thought there was sothing wrong with those two—big problems. What they'd bared might not have been just their asses...
Suddenly, the aroma of at wafted over—rich and savory.
Tiger's smile froze as he slowly turned toward the large pot. The water inside had long since boiled, and the Scottish Round-Faced Chicken floated motionless on the surface...
"Damn..."
"The ssenger's cooked..."
"Cheers!"
"To those!"
"Who oppose us!"
At big brother Arthur's rallying cry, the Shelbys crowded around the bar counter raised their glasses, excited screams and curses rising and falling like a symphony of violence and brotherhood.
"Let them fend for themselves!"
"Cheers! Haha!"
The atmosphere in the bar was heated—a group of the most elegantly dressed people saying the crudest things and doing the crudest acts. Savages in silk suits.
Only Tiger sat obediently at the bar counter, holding his glass of hot milk, grinding his teeth in hatred at the infantilizing treatnt.
"Damn it! John!"
"Give that bloody vodka!"
"Ah, my dear brother..."
"You're not even eleven yet."
"You know Polly's been watching you. She was furious when you got out this ti."
Third brother John Shelby shook his head with a knowing tsk.
He waved at Mother Polly approaching the bar, gave Tiger a helpless smile that said 'you're on your own, mate,' then walked straight toward a group of Cossacks.
"Oh no..."
Seeing the anger blazing in Mother Polly's eyes like twin fires of maternal wrath, Tiger tried to jump down from the high stool, but was suddenly pressed back into his seat by second brother Tommy.
"Little Tiger, you can't escape..."
Superhuman strength pressed down on Tiger's shoulder, making him shudder violently at the contact.
Tiger gritted his teeth and said in a low, threatening voice:
"Tommy, you better have washed your hands, or I'll definitely tell everyone about you and Monte..."
"Whoa whoa whoa! Calm down, calm down!"
"My brother!"
Tommy looked embarrassed, quickly pulling his hand back and raising it above his shoulder in surrender.
"I'll be more careful next ti, okay?"
"It's a beautiful night..."
"Have so more to drink..."
With that, second brother Tommy forced a smile and awkwardly walked toward big brother Arthur, who was enjoying the show nearby.
No help for it.
Who told his little brother to walk into the warden's office and see his hand where it shouldn't have been?
"Hey..."
"Mom, good evening..."
As Mother Polly approached Tiger, he blinked with practiced innocence, trying to awaken maternal love.
Unfortunately, his amber eyes were full of predatory ferocity, no different from a real tiger's, showing none of a child's innocent naivety.
"Damn it! Tiger!"
"I'm not well!"
"Mom is not well at all!"
Mother Polly violently threw down her cigar, grabbed Tiger by the collar, and lifted him to face her, roaring like an enraged lioness protecting her pride.
"What did you promise before!"
"To behave and go to that damn school!"
"To listen to those damn teachers!"
"And what happened!"
"What the hell did you do!"
"Manny even got you an acceptance letter to Eton College!"
Honestly, the feeling of dangling in the air wasn't pleasant, but faced with Mother Polly's rage, even Venom obediently shut its mouth. So forces of nature were best not provoked.
Tiger didn't understand.
The Shelby Family's strength was clearly superhuman—didn't they realize it themselves...
This woman could flip a car with her bare hands!
"Damn it! Tiger!"
"Are you listening to !"
Obviously, Mother Polly noticed her youngest son's distraction. Eyes flashing dangerously, she began shaking Tiger frantically like a rag doll.
"Oh! No!"
"Mom, don't... shake..."
"Damn it, the milk's going to co up..."
In that instant, Tiger felt like his brains were being scrambled into porridge.
Venom was also trying to surge out of his mouth, wanting to temporarily escape this inhuman treatnt.
But just then, a parchnt envelope fell from Tiger's pocket with a rustle, catching Mother Polly's attention like a gunshot in the night.
When she saw the wax seal on the letter—that distinctive H surrounded by four ancient creatures—Mother Polly's pupils contracted sharply.
Her grip loosened, and Tiger dropped back onto his stool with a thud.
The bar fell silent.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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