A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 585 Not to Scam Friends
"call……"

Charles slumped heavily onto the hotel's soft bed, exhaling deeply as if trying to expel all the fatigue of the day.

At this moment, he temporarily forgot about Voldemort and goblins.

He was pondering a question: if he won the Nobel Prize in Physics, would he be able to go to university without taking the entrance exam?

The "tearing graphene by hand" experiment and a series of related tests were designed by him. Under his influence, two future industry leaders invested in this research ten years ahead of schedule, so sharing the award is not a problem.

Now, the results have finally been published, and the relevant paper was finalized today.

Insightful business leaders have already keenly sensed the value it contains, clearly pointing out that this is a Nobel Prize-level discovery, worthy of being celebrated with great fanfare.

Therefore, Charles was specifically invited to discuss how to proceed with the award nomination and public relations. On the other hand, the bigwigs were more concerned about the new industrial chain that this new material could bring, which could potentially disrupt the existing landscape.

"Charles, are you asleep?"

A soft inquiry came from the bedroom doorway, her voice carrying a hint of concern.

Friends who frequently work as cabinet secretaries in the UK know that Lubyanka is often more informed about any developments in the UK than Downing Street.

They somehow managed to pinpoint one of Charles's "hobbies"—he seemed to have a particular fondness for mature, gentle, and approachable women, like an older sister.

Therefore, Moscow carefully arranged such a secretary for him.

Sayeseva's responsibilities go far beyond handling daily chores. In addition to taking care of his daily needs and even buying him soda, she also plays the role of an efficient messenger, often relaying bargaining that is not convenient to discuss openly.

"A drink, please." Charles's voice carried a hint of relaxed laziness.

Sayeseva smiled slightly, took a few steps forward, sat on the edge of the bed, and asked, "Do you want one that can be lit, or one that can't?"

Her voice was lowered, as if carrying a certain intimacy.

“It must contain carbon dioxide.” Charles made it clear that it did not contain ethanol.

Sayeseva got up and took a can of chilled Coke from the freezer. Her movements were so fluid that it seemed she had been preparing for it all along. A layer of water droplets condensed on the surface of the aluminum can. She took out a tissue and carefully wiped it before handing it over. Her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand briefly and warmly.

Charles took it, pulled the tab, and with a "hiss," the carbon dioxide bubbles burst gently.

He tilted his head back and took a big gulp; the cool sweetness rushed down his throat, making him feel a bit more awake.

Shayesawa sat by the bed, neither urging her nor leaving.

Today she wore a fitted knitted dress; the gray-blue color made her skin appear even whiter. Her expression was gentle, and her lips and eyes always held a hint of excitement, like a ruby ​​eyeing braised pork.

She watched Charles put down the drink can before softly asking, "You seem a little tired?"

Charles believed that as long as he mentioned it, he could rest his head on her lap and enjoy a massage.

"Don't do dangerous things," Charles said with a serious expression. "I'm not lying to my friends, graphene is a star in the lab, with great potential, but for large-scale industrial applications, its effects are currently very limited. Apart from being a promising conductive additive, the global market is lucky if it reaches a few billion dollars." When he first got involved in this, he was more interested in having fun and making a name for himself. If he really wanted to make money, he had to look to the blue ocean of the internet.

Now that others have invested resources to help him secure the award, he can't go against his conscience and make empty promises that would cheat his partners.

Shayesova was clearly not expected that he would suddenly make such a statement that was almost like throwing liquid nitrogen. A hint of surprise flashed across her face for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure.

Charles took another sip of his soda and continued, "But, in the field of materials science, who can say for sure?"

"In my current assessment, it is unlikely that there will be any breakthrough in its large-scale industrial application within the next thirty years."

"But what if? What if a key technology suddenly breaks through, or what if an unexpected application scenario is found decades later?"

He paused for a moment, trying to find a suitable example, and said, "Look, when Lobachevsky created non-Euclidean geometry, wasn't it also considered useless by the mainstream mathematical community? Later, Riemann further developed it, and then Einstein's theory of relativity used it."

He shook the jar in his hand, smiled and said, "Of course, it may not be appropriate to use this as an analogy for graphene, but what I want to say is that it is really difficult to make a definitive judgment on the future, especially the value of scientific discoveries, in the present."

Shayeseva made no comment on his words, took the empty can and threw it in the trash can, then tilted her head slightly, a strand of golden hair slipping from behind her ear. Instead of brushing it away, she leaned closer to Charles's ear and spoke in a softer voice: "So... what about on other levels?"

Charles immediately understood her implied meaning.

Is there any potential in combining graphene with alchemy?

Could we create new possibilities at the level of magic or at the intersection of magic and technology?

“I don’t know,” Charles answered readily and honestly. “It’s completely uncharted territory, and I think it’s absolutely worth investing some effort in studying it in depth. After all… what if?”

He reiterated this possibility, then changed the subject seriously, saying, "If you are indeed eagerly looking for emerging industries that can bring huge profits, I can offer some more specific and feasible suggestions."

Some opportunities and trends, even if you know the direction, don't necessarily mean you can do well; but if you don't even know the direction, or know it but don't try, then it definitely won't work.

For Charles, Hogwarts school life, though exciting and fulfilling, was ultimately limited to just three years.

Beyond that castle, in that vast expanse of land, according to the old man's estimation, at least a hundred years awaited him.

In his view, this long period of time was perhaps even more important, as it held infinite possibilities.

He was like the Moscow River flowing quietly outside the window at this moment, its waters flowing ceaselessly, witnessing countless passersby, and the days at Hogwarts were just one of those passersby.

When life at Hogwarts ends, Charles will continue to operate at his own pace, just like the Moscow River, which will not stop flowing because of anyone's departure.

The babbling brook simply stood there, quietly watching the passersby come and go.

Perhaps because he was far away from Hogwarts and far away from England, Charles's way of thinking changed, and he began to think further ahead.

A sudden wave of weariness washed over him; Voldemort was getting annoying, and he needed to tell him to stop bothering him.

(End of this chapter)