Jerry woke early the next morning, anticipation humming in his veins. Today, Professor McGonagall would visit the orphanage to confirm his acceptance to Hogwarts. After receiving his letter yesterday, he'd thoroughly explored Edward Orphanage, building a mental map of his temporary home for the next month.
According to the implanted memories, Edward Orphanage was established twenty years ago by a benevolent businessman, the eponymous Edward, who wanted to provide refuge for abandoned children before his death. The original vision had been noble, but as often happens when founders pass away, the institution's character had gradually shifted.
The current state wasn't terrible, just noticeably diminished. Meals were less nutritious, accommodations more spartan, and the staff's warmth had cooled to professional detachment. Jerry wasn't particularly bothered by this. Human nature being what it was, he considered it fortunate that the orphanage remained free of the active abuse that plagued similar institutions.
In his previous life, he'd read disturbing news reports about orphanages in the 1980s and 1990s where children's remains had been discovered buried in courtyards. Some so-called orphanages were merely fronts for criminal enterprises. The old saying rang true: "The world bustles for profit, and only for profit."
Very few people were truly selfless. Jerry certainly didn't count himself among them. Beyond those he personally cared about, he rarely engaged in altruism without incentive. His recent good deeds had been motivated primarily by the panel's red star rewards. Without that system, he doubted he would have gone out of his way to help strangers.
His attitude had evolved in his previous life. As a student, he'd readily helped strangers who fell on the street. Years into his career, he'd learned to walk the other direction, having seen how good Samaritans sometimes ended up shouldering blame and financial responsibility for those they tried to help.
But this second life had subtly changed his perspective. The appreciation from those he'd helped to earn red stars had awakened something genuine within him, a warmth he was reluctant to acknowledge but couldn't entirely deny.
After queuing for a simple breakfast of porridge and toast, Jerry positioned himself in the orphanage's front courtyard. He recalled that Professor McGonagall was an Animagus who often took the form of a tabby cat when visiting Muggle areas. If he was lucky, he might witness the magical transformation from feline to human.
Half an hour of watching the surrounding walls for any sign of a distinctive tabby yielded nothing. Instead, his attention was drawn to a disturbance on the right side of the courtyard, where three teenagers, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old, had cornered a smaller boy.
Jerry's implanted memories identified the trio as the orphanage's oldest residents. They ruled through intimidation, regularly bullying younger children who refused to follow their arbitrary commands. Those who resisted suffered prolonged torment. Fear kept most children silent, and the few who had reported the abuse to staff received only token intervention. Worse, the complainants faced vicious retaliation afterward. The orphanage staff maintained a policy of minimal interference unless severe injury occurred, dismissing children's scuffles as normal behavior.
The current victim, a recent transfer to the orphanage, was crying as the three surrounded him. Jerry initially hesitated. Intervening might help momentarily, but once he departed for Hogwarts, the boy would surely face renewed persecution. Moreover, Professor McGonagall might arrive during the confrontation, potentially forming a negative first impression of him.
But as the teenagers' cruel laughter echoed across the courtyard, Jerry found himself standing with a resigned sigh.
"I'm not being soft-hearted," he justified to himself. "This is just an experiment to see if good deeds in this parallel world also earn red stars. It's necessary research."
"Stop!" Jerry shouted, stepping forward with purpose.
The three teenagers froze mid-motion, turning to face the unexpected interruption. Surprise registered on their faces, none of the orphans ever dared challenge them, especially not the usually reserved Jerry.
"Looks like you want to end up like this newcomer too?" The apparent leader sneered, temporarily releasing the sobbing boy to confront this new challenge.
The three teens positioned themselves before Jerry with unmistakable menace. They could understand a newcomer's ignorance of the hierarchy, but defiance from someone who'd been at the orphanage for years demanded severe consequences. Otherwise, their control over the other children might weaken.
"Everyone here is an orphan," Jerry said calmly, unfazed by their intimidating stance. "Life's hard enough already. Why make it worse for each other?"
He understood the psychology at work. Children in orphanages often developed complex issues. Some, feeling powerless and inferior, sought control by dominating those weaker than themselves. It created an illusion of strength that temporarily masked their own pain.
"Wrong," sneered the tallest and heaviest of the three, glancing around to ensure no staff was nearby. "In my eyes, you're all just garbage. Making us happy is your only purpose here."
Jerry assessed the situation pragmatically. He would remain at the orphanage for a month before starting at Hogwarts. Given these boys' temperament, conflict was inevitable sooner or later. Better to establish boundaries immediately.
"I'm not particularly eager to fight children," Jerry said with a shake of his head, "but if I don't teach you a lesson now, there'll be trouble later."
He carefully removed his jacket and T-shirt, placing them on a nearby table. The onlookers gasped collectively at what the clothing had concealed.
Jerry's physique was remarkable despite being only eleven and under five feet tall. His body wasn't bulky with showy muscles like bodybuilders, but rather defined by compact, steel-cable muscle groups that seemed impossible on someone his age. While clothes made him appear unremarkably slim, without them, he was transformed.
The eight-pack abs alone would have given most adults pause.
Jerry had devoted considerable time to physical conditioning in this second life without the pressures of work or study. His interest in martial arts had begun in his previous life when, as a child, he'd played at being a master swordsman with sticks from the yard.
Later, Bruce Lee's films had inspired him to study Jeet Kune Do, spending his meager allowance on instructional books for secret practice. In college, he'd joined a martial arts club, receiving proper training that led to tournament victories. Only the demands of his career had eventually forced him to abandon the discipline.
Now, reborn without those constraints, he'd begun training early. The lean musculature was the result of years of dedicated practice. While insufficient against armed adult criminals on the school bus, it would certainly suffice against untrained teenagers.
Moreover, since merging with wizard blood, he'd noticed subtle changes in his physiology. Not raw strength or speed, but a fundamental enhancement, as if his life essence had been refined. He recalled that wizards, while not physically stronger than Muggles, possessed remarkable durability. They could survive grievous injuries that would kill ordinary humans, persisting until magical healing could be applied.
"What's this idiot doing? Does he think taking off his shirt will scare us?" The lead boy laughed derisively.
"I think his puny body wants to meet my fist up close," another added, flexing his ham-sized hands with malicious intent before launching a punch aimed at Jerry's stomach.
Clearly, they didn't understand what eight-pack abs signified in terms of physical conditioning.
"Fourth Form of Golden Dragon Fist: Little Dragon Seeks Direction!" Jerry called out, sliding backward to evade the attack before delivering a lightning-fast kick to the boy's midsection.
The teenager crashed to the ground with a pained howl.
"Dragon Swings Its Tail!" Jerry continued without pause, pivoting fluidly into a backhand strike that caught the second boy across the face, sending him sprawling next to his companion.
Though young, Jerry's muscle development and strength far exceeded that of the older teenagers. Years of disciplined practice had ingrained technique that surpassed even his college-level abilities from his previous life. Against untrained bullies who relied solely on intimidation, the outcome was predictable.
Seeing his two friends dispatched so easily, the largest boy roared with rage and charged like a bull. Standing a head taller than Jerry with more than twice his bulk, he clearly believed he could simply overwhelm the smaller opponent through sheer mass.
"Too naive," Jerry murmured, not bothering to dodge. Instead, he advanced to intercept, slipping into the larger boy's centerline. Drawing a deep breath, he planted his right foot, twisted his waist, engaged his hips, aligned his shoulders, and unleashed a compact strike.
"Inch Punch!"
Concentrated force exploded into the bully's abdomen, launching him backward through the air. He landed heavily two meters away, the wind completely knocked from his lungs.
Stunned silence fell over the courtyard as the three former terrors lay groaning on the ground. The watching orphans stood frozen, unable to process the sudden power reversal. The quiet, unassuming Jerry had dismantled the feared trio with just three strikes.
"What are you waiting for?" Jerry called as he calmly retrieved and donned his clothing. "Those with grievances, take your revenge. Those with scores to settle, settle them now."
He'd removed his clothing only to keep it clean for Professor McGonagall's visit, but he'd overestimated the teenagers' resilience. The self-proclaimed "kings" of the orphanage, who derived their power from tormenting the weak, had crumbled at the first real resistance. Their moans and whimpers made clear they had no fight left.
In truth, if they had swallowed their pain and coordinated an attack, Jerry would have faced a genuine challenge. But bullies rarely showed such resolve when confronted.
Hearing Jerry's prompting, the long-intimidated orphans exchanged uncertain glances before cautiously approaching their fallen tormentors. Then, as if a dam had broken, they swarmed forward.
Jerry watched as dozens of small fists and feet descended on the bullies. "Unity is strength," he observed quietly.
He'd held back significantly. The teenagers' sturdy builds would prevent serious injury from his measured strikes. But against the combined might of their numerous victims, they stood no chance. Two or three orphans might pose no threat, but dozens attacking at once overwhelmed any advantage of age or size.
It was an important lesson. Once fear was conquered, the seemingly invincible oppressors were revealed as ordinary and vulnerable.
By defeating the trio, Jerry had broken the spell of intimidation that had controlled the orphanage. Even after he departed for Hogwarts, he suspected the power dynamic would remain permanently altered.
"There really are red stars in the account!" Jerry murmured with surprise, checking his panel. The counter had increased from 1,000 to 1,005 since his arrival in this world.
He'd assumed the stars could only be earned in his main universe, but apparently good deeds in parallel worlds counted too. That opened interesting possibilities—multiple worlds meant multiple opportunities to accumulate stars.
Closing the panel, Jerry glanced toward the orphanage gate and spotted a tabby cat perched atop the wall, head tilted observantly at the scene below.
"That's... not Professor McGonagall, is it?" he thought, maintaining his composure outwardly while inwardly grimacing.
"Okay, that's enough!" he called loudly to the vengeful orphans.
They immediately ceased their assault, looking to Jerry with newfound respect and deference. He had instantly replaced the fallen trio in the social hierarchy, though for very different reasons.
"Ahem," Jerry began with exaggerated formality, knowing the cat was watching. "I, Jerry Carmen, deeply despise violence. I hope that we orphans, sharing similar hardships, can support one another, grow together in friendship, and strive to become valuable members of society, spreading enthusiasm and illuminating the world with our light."
The orphans applauded enthusiastically, even if they didn't fully grasp his flowery rhetoric.
Jerry nodded in acknowledgement before addressing the three teenagers with their bruised faces and wounded pride.
"You abused your age advantage to bully younger children. Consider today a necessary lesson," he said firmly but without malice. "We're all orphans here. If you recognize your mistakes and change your ways, everyone will welcome you back into the community. Isn't that right?"
His gaze, carrying subtle warning, prompted the three battered teenagers to nod vigorously.
"Exactly!" they chorused, understanding that the orphanage's power structure had irrevocably changed.