As a transmigrator, Regulus Black's vision wasn't as narrow as that of typical story characters who only focused on their small circles.
Upon arriving in this wizard-centric world, Regulus Black was certain—there had to be other wizarding stories out there. Whether hidden in fairy tales, historical myths, or even taking place in the same era as his own.
So, he racked his brain, especially for wizard-related films.
While the Harry Potter series started as books, its fame truly skyrocketed because of the movies.
And if there were other wizard-themed films with a similarly vague or overlapping timeframe, there was a good chance they might actually exist here too.
The challenge, however, lay in how to verify such a theory. Luckily, Regulus Black had connections.
He still remembered clearly the Auror who captured him—especially since he'd spent quite a bit of time at the Ministry of Magic afterward, dealing with matters related to his family's estate. During those visits, he developed close ties with the Auror captain, Judy Fox.
Now, let's talk about something serious—do you need a reason to flirt? Do you?
Regulus Black found the perfect excuse. One that also conveniently showcased his status and wealth.
So, not long after, with champagne-golden hair cascading over her shoulders and a curvaceous figure straddling his lap, Regulus Black couldn't help but think: it really is easier to get things done when you've got someone "up top."
Among the many wizard-themed films, one told the story of a remote village in Britain—a village called Sleepy Hollow.
For such a small town to bear such an ominous name like Sleepy Hollow, one couldn't help but think how bizarre Western horror naming conventions could be.
But once the fictional elements were replaced with real-world context, Regulus Black completely understood why.
The entire town radiated a magical aura of gothic darkness, despair, absurdity, and death—and wielded this aura to its fullest.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say the townspeople lived in hell. Yet humans are an incredibly resilient species—so long as they can access the necessities of life, they can survive even the harshest environments.
A long-standing legend in Sleepy Hollow told of the Headless Horseman. Allegedly, he was a bloodthirsty berserker, a mercenary from the Black Forest. After his head was severed by enemies, his restless soul continued to wander the town. On moonless, windy nights, he would ride his steed and swing a greatsword, beheading any traveler who passed by.
Regulus Black once again left Hogwarts. Thanks to his connections within the Ministry of Magic, he used the Floo Network to travel at the fastest possible speed—directly to Sleepy Hollow.
With a burst of flames, he arrived via the fireplace of the town's church.
"Good morning, Father. Might I ask for your help with something?"
As he used a Scourgify spell to clean the slight dust off his clothes, Regulus casually greeted the dumbfounded priest.
"Ah! How did you come out of there? Who are you?!"
Although the priest wasn't a wizard—nor a member of the Church's old witch-hunting ranks—he still knew a little about wizards. At this moment, a storm of shock and disbelief surged in his heart. It might sound exaggerated, but anyone would be shaken if a legend suddenly came to life.
"Obliviate!"
Regulus Black waved his wand, erasing the old priest's memory. The priest felt his mind grow a bit hazy, as though he'd just forgotten something. Still, with a guest standing before him, his attention naturally shifted back to his visitor.
"Good morning, Father. Might I ask for your help with something?"
Regulus greeted him again, observing the priest's reaction. It seemed the spell worked perfectly.
The magical aura emanating from this town would occasionally grant certain sensitive individuals wizard-like abilities. In other words, it could allow magically gifted Muggles to develop powers—at least within the bounds of this village.
These were what you might call rogue wizards. While they might have had no real chance of becoming proper wizards elsewhere, being born here—combined with having physical traits that were the closest to wizardkind among Muggles—meant that, if taught a few rituals, they could become highly specialized spellcasters.
In this small town of Sleepy Hollow, the inherited magic was precisely the art of creating the Headless Horseman.
Due to his own condition, Regulus Black paid close attention to this kind of dark magic. Only this type of magic could help him become more perfect—not just some walking corpse that could be burned to ashes with a single flame.
"Good day, sir! May I ask your purpose here?"
Intimidated by Regulus's noble aura, the priest became extremely courteous.
"I'd like to know where the town sheriff and mayor reside—or perhaps you could tell me where I can find them?"
To understand a place, it's best to begin with those in the highest positions. They possess the most detailed knowledge and carry the most respectable status.
Unlike the local thugs—who might also know everything going on—Regulus Black, given his identity, preferred to deal with proper officials.
Naturally, the priest was also one of the town's most prominent figures.
Religion, administration, and law enforcement—once he had the recognition of these three, he'd be free to do as he pleased in this town.
Walking through the village with the priest, Regulus noted the town's modest size. Administratively, however, it encompassed the entire valley. Surrounded by wetlands and withered forests that seemed devoid of life, it housed only a sparse population. Arable land was extremely limited.
And yet, even in such a barren place—thanks to the nature of capitalism—there were still wealthy individuals. The town's mayor happened to be one of them.
After locating both the mayor and sheriff, Regulus Black and the priest, now a group of four, headed to the mayor's residence.
Then, like true gentlemen, the four began drinking together in a relaxed atmosphere. Though the three local leaders held authority here, living in such a dismal place was no joy. If not for their attachment to power and wealth, they'd have long plotted their escape.
The four chatted happily and played bridge late into the night. Regulus Black even stayed the night at the mayor's house.
In the early morning, the street still carried a trace of dampness. The chill of the stone pavement beneath his feet jolted him awake, brushing away any lingering drowsiness.
The rising sun was gentle, not overly bright. On the cool morning streets, the light spilled like an oil painting—quiet and enchanting.
What a beautiful morning.
The town's three top leaders, who had supposedly played bridge all night, now sat in a row with vacant expressions.
To outsiders—be it passing residents or the mayor's own family—it looked as though the four had simply stayed up through the night playing games.
But in truth, Regulus Black had cast a spell on the mayor's home from the very beginning.
A soul-separating spell allowed him to freely manipulate these Muggles. Combined with Legilimency, there was nothing he didn't know—not even the seemingly insignificant details they themselves might have forgotten.
Luckily, after a night of analysis, Regulus discovered that the legacy of the Headless Horseman did still exist in the town.
Near the cemetery at the deepest end of the valley lived a woman who worked as a cook at the mayor's house.
She had twin daughters, ten years old—Karenna Cook and Katalyn Cook—each with strikingly unusual eyes: one silver-gray, the other pale lilac.
No one ever wandered near the cemetery. The atmosphere there was too unsettling for ordinary people. Yet these two golden-haired little girls roamed there with boundless energy. This, however, had left them with no friends.
Crossing the entire town, Regulus Black arrived at the cemetery nestled in the deepest part of the valley.
"Point me."
Focusing on the person or thing he wanted to find, he cast the Four-Point Spell, which could provide directional guidance.
The tip of his wand lit up brightly, glowing as it pointed in a specific direction. After walking a bit farther, Regulus finally came across the two girls with those extraordinary eyes.
"Who are you?"
One of them asked innocently, her tone a little dazed. The other gripped her machete warily.
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