The person is at Hogwarts, but the system is in Middle-earth!

Friday morning.

Harry and Ron were complaining that the Potions classroom was too cold, while Rowe stood fully armed at the entrance to the dungeon.

He wore two robes (the inner one was sewn with leather), a thick wool scarf around his neck, and clutched a satchel full of bottles and jars tightly in his hands.

"Love, you look like you're going on a polar expedition," Harry said, shivering.

"Worse than that, Harry," Rowe's voice came muffled from behind his scarf, his eyes scanning the dark stone walls warily. "This is the factory. A breeding ground for dark alchemy. Can you smell it? It's the smell of sulfur, mercury, and despair."

Harry sniffed. "I only smell pickled slugs."

The Potions classroom was located on the lowest level of the castle. It had no windows, and countless glass jars lined the walls, containing all sorts of gruesome animal specimens. In the dim candlelight, the specimens seemed ready to come alive at any moment.

[Enter Area: Isengard Underground Laboratory]

[Environmental Debuffs: Industrial Pollution (Slight), Depressing Aura (Moderate)]

[Recommendation: Keep the airway open and be prepared for evacuation at any time.]

Lowe found a corner seat, an excellent tactical position with his back against the wall, a wide field of vision, and only five steps from the door.

Just as he took the uneven frying pan out of his schoolbag, the classroom door was suddenly flung open.

boom!

A black figure rushed in, accompanied by a gust of cold wind.

Professor Severus Snape resembled a giant bat, his long black robes billowing behind him.

[WARNING! Boss-level unit has appeared!]

[Real Name Determined: Saruman]

[Title: White-Robed Wizard (Fallen State) / Potions Master]

[Danger Level: SSS]

Lo Wei's pupils contracted sharply.

In his eyes, Snape had completely changed!

He was a tall, stern-faced old man. Although he wore a black robe, he emanated a dazzling, unsettling white aura. That was the color of order, but this order had been distorted, filled with mechanical coldness and indifference to life.

Snape stood on the podium, scanning the entire class with his empty black eyes.

"You've come here to learn this precise science and rigorous craft," he said in a deep, smooth voice. "I don't need you foolishly waving your wands, so many of you won't believe this is magic."

Lowe gripped the handle of the frying pan tightly under the table.

"I can teach you how to increase your reputation, cultivate glory, and even prevent death—but there is one condition: you must not be the kind of fools I often encounter."

Snape's gaze suddenly stopped on Harry's face.

[WARNING! Eye of Sauron is focusing!]

[Target: Those who uphold the precepts]

"Potter!" Snape exclaimed suddenly, "What would I get if I added daffodil root powder to wormwood infusion?"

Harry was stunned.

"I don't know, sir," Harry said quietly.

Luo Wei's palms were sweating with anxiety.

Don't look into his eyes, Harry! That's Legilimency! He's testing your willpower! He's searching for the One Ring!

Snape sneered, "It seems fame isn't everything."

He continued to humiliate Harry, asking him several questions he couldn't answer. Hermione's hand was raised so high it almost touched the dungeon ceiling, but Snape ignored it.

Finally, Snape turned around, his black robes swirling in the wind.

"Turn to page 12. Today we're making a remedy for scabies."

……

The classroom was soon filled with all sorts of strange smells.

Snape walked among the students, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. He sprayed almost all the students with his spray, except for Malfoy.

Lowe is working with his material: slugs with tentacles.

The task is to steam slugs with tentacles. However, before steaming, the internal organs must be removed and the slugs sliced.

This is a nightmare for the average first-year student. Slugs are slippery and hard to catch, and they ooze disgusting slime.

But for Loewe...

[Activate Skill: Hobbit Cooking Talent]

[Sub-skill: Ingredient Processing Lv2]

Rowe held down a slug with his left hand and gripped a sharp silver knife in his right.

Brush brush brush brush!

The blade flashed like snow.

Before the slug even had a chance to secrete any mucus, it was neatly sliced ​​into uniformly thin slices. Each slice was exactly 1.5 millimeters thick, as thin as a cicada's wing, and translucent.

Rowe looked focused, as if he were dealing not with potion ingredients, but with the finest truffles from a Michelin-starred restaurant.

He even casually arranged the sliced ​​slugs into the shape of a flower on the plate.

Just then, a shadow fell over him.

Snape was standing behind him without him noticing.

Snape did not pull out his wand.

He lowered his head and looked at the pile of slug slices on Rowe's cutting board, which resembled works of art. A very strange expression appeared on his perpetually gloomy face.

That's the frustration of wanting to curse but not being able to find a way to do it.

"Barkins," Snape said softly.

"Yes, Professor."

"Are you making potions?" Snape stretched out his long, slender fingers, picking up a thin, translucent slug, "or preparing a French feast?"

The whole class stopped what they were doing, held their breath, and looked over.

“For precision, Professor,” Lowe’s voice was firm and resolute. “Alchemy allows no room for error. Thinner slices mean a larger contact area, which means a more complete release of the drug. This is science.”

Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Science?" he repeated the word as if it were a swear word. "At Hogwarts, we talk about magic."

"All things come down to one thing, Professor," Rowe said, forcing a lie. "Whether it's magic or cooking, the essence is the ultimate control over the ingredients."

Snape stared at him for a full ten seconds.

Lovi felt as if he were being targeted by a basilisk monster.

[Psychological resistance test passed!]

"Hufflepuff, one point," Snape said abruptly, tossing the slug back onto the plate. "For your appalling knife skills. But if your potion ends up as slug soup, I'll stew you."

Snape turned and left, his black robes billowing.

Luo Wei let out a long breath, feeling that the clothes on his back were soaked.

Just then, a loud bang came from the other end of the classroom.

sizzle!

A thick cloud of green acidic mist rose into the air. Neville Longbottom, somehow, burned a hole through Seamus's cauldron. The liquid spilled onto the ground, sizzling and burning the students' shoes.

"Idiot!" Snape roared as he charged forward.

But before Snape, someone else moved.

"Poison gas leak!" Lowe roared. "Everyone! Cover your mouths and noses! Retreat!"

He grabbed Harry before he could react and dashed toward the door with a textbook tactical maneuver.

"Don't just stand there! That's a biological weapon!"

As he passed Neville, he casually grabbed Hermione, who wasn't completely stunned yet.

The classroom was in complete chaos.

Snape waved his wand to clean up the potion, then turned around to look at Rowe, who had rushed to the door and was trying to wrap Harry's head in a scarf to make him look like a mummy.

He has taught for so many years, and he has seen stupid students, bad students, and students who have even exploded.

But he had never seen a Potions class treated like a live rehearsal of Resident Evil.

"Barggins!" Snape roared. "Get back to your seat! Or Hufflepuff will lose fifty points!"

Luo Wei stood frozen at the doorway.

He glanced at the green mist that had been cleared away, then at the enraged Saruman.

Crisis resolved.

[Evaluation: Although your reaction was somewhat excessive, your survival instinct is commendable.]

[Reward: Potions Talent +1 (Cooking Transformation)]

Lowell released Harry.

"Yes, Professor," he said honestly, "I'm only doing this for everyone's safety."

Harry rubbed his sore neck and looked at Rowe with a complex expression.

He suddenly realized that this somewhat eccentric friend might be more dangerous than Snape!