Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

——Is a poppet just a tool?

As soon as these words were spoken, several judges instinctively looked at Vid.

Although this young man was much younger than them, after Vid demonstrated knowledge and ability that matched his position, several judges also regarded him as an alchemist on the same level as themselves.

The poppet in Vid’s hands displayed various personalities and hobbies, even those that appeared for just a few minutes and then were sacrificed were as vivid as real people.

However, Modis Graves molded poppets into cold tools, as if they had no self-awareness, only absolute obedience, even ignoring the harm they suffered...

This concept of alchemy undoubtedly contradicted that of Vid Gray, the father of poppets.

To be honest, poppets lively as real people are intimidating; but these puppets with biological appearances yet non-biological stiffness, when silently standing before you, feel even more eerie.

Amidst the seemingly indifferent gazes of the crowd, Vid was silent for a moment, then smiled slightly:

”Is a poppet just a tool? This statement... is not entirely wrong.”

A visibly tense Graves seemed somewhat surprised by his words and looked at Vid with a hint of astonishment.

”If you don’t imbue them with thought, then a poppet is just a sculpture made of various materials, no different from a shovel or a hammer.”

Vid continued: ”But if you strive to enhance its judgment and intelligence by giving it thought, then no matter how delicately you try to limit its consciousness, a faint spark will still be born on barren soil.”

Graves blinked and said, ”If fire is born, then I’ll just add more water. If that’s not enough, I’ll cover it with sand, or remove the dry grass that lets the spark burn, won’t that work?”

Vid leaned back, his smile deepening, yet his eyes carried a cold sharpness.

”An interesting thought, Mr. Graves. But have you ever considered that thought is intangible and cannot be quantified?”

”You can suppress them as a master does, bind them with rules, drive them like slaves... but life will always find its way.”

”And by then...”

He rested his elbow on the table, leaned forward slightly, and stared directly at Graves, as if piercing through him, saying:

”Have you ever thought about whether all the harm and pain you inflict on the poppets might become a more twisted, darker fuel?”

Modis Graves looked at Vid without flinching or avoiding, his slightly widened eyes were like a child’s, pure and innocent.

”You remind me of my cousin, Mr. Gray.”

Graves said slowly, ”He is just three years old, very interesting, always thinks everything has life, often says—”

”After taking a bite of an apple, he’ll ask, does it hurt?”

”Cars parked on the street, in his eyes, are cars that are tired and need to sleep.”

”If a car has been parked by the roadside for a long time, he will worry if the car is sick, asking his mom to find a doctor.”

The red-haired man paused, let out an ambiguous laugh, and looked at Vid with unconscious superiority, as if seeing his naive little cousin.

He accented his tone, ”Poppets are just tools, Mr. Gray. Of course, I can understand you seeing them as your children, but... poppets don’t have real thoughts, just like cars only break down, but don’t get tired, nor fall sick.”

”Is that so?”

Vid glanced at the not yet fully formed werewolf and said lightly, ”Then let’s wait and see.”

”Haha, it’s clear that the two of you have different concepts of alchemy, right?”

Agilbert Fontaine laughed heartily and said, ”But that’s precisely the purpose of holding the Alchemy Competition! To let different ideas collide and blend, finally giving birth to more perfect works!”

At this point, Professor Morry spoke: ”Mr. Graves’ work is excellent, but as an alchemist, you still need to take the potential dangers of alchemy creations more seriously. In history, disasters caused by neglecting the internal balance of creations are never lacking.”

Ms. Picquery slowly nodded and said: ”Indeed, power must match controllability, no one wants the history of Dementors to repeat.”

Professor Abdullah echoed: ”You can’t be careless, you need to fully realize the serious consequences this could trigger.”

Graves stood in front of the judges’ table, silent, his face so sullen it seemed it might drip water.

Then he heard Silas Hawthorne laughing and saying:

”Haha... while caution is good, you shouldn’t frighten newcomers in our profession, Dementors aren’t created that easily.”

He squinted his eyes as he laughed and spoke warmly to the tall contestant:

”I’m not really interested in how Mr. Graves treats his poppets, but I do have one question...”

He paused, and instead of finding Hawthorne’s smile comforting, Graves became immediately alert.

”May I ask, Mr. Graves, is this werewolf poppet... truly entirely your own work?”

Silas Hawthorne collected his smile, his gaze sharp as he asked.

Graves slightly frowned and cautiously said, ”I think aside from Mr. Gray, no one would dare claim a poppet is entirely of their own creation... Of course, I did reference Mr. Gray’s poppets in the process.”