I can enter Hogwarts in the end of the world

Under the setting glow of the blood-red setting sun, what came into view was a ruins. The tall buildings and broad and bustling streets that once stood there were long gone. Collapsed buildings, broken vehicles, and the slowly moving corpses.

This world is like the lawn after a camping party. At this moment, there is only a mess.

The sky is filled with thick dust and smoke, as well as countless parasitic spores invisible to the naked eye.

All this did not affect a busy figure in the room.

"There are still 12 bottles of 250 ml unopened water. There is no shortage for the time being, but there is only about 200 grams of wheat flour left in the food. But if the physical strength is guaranteed, this can only support two days of consumption. It is really elastic I’m running out of food, and I don’t know if I can find supplies on the last floor.”

While sorting and sorting the supplies, Ian sighed in despair.

Since he inexplicably traveled to this parallel world a week ago, except for the initial panic and a bit of disbelief, he later accepted the fact that it had happened. After all, this kind of time travel happens every year.

The broken glass window in front of him reflected the figure of a teenager about fourteen or fifteen years old, with a shabby white shirt and messy black hair.

With impeccable facial contours, ebony-black pupils, a high bridge of nose, and slightly white lips, he looks like an ethereal and handsome sunny and cheerful boy next door.

But the most eye-catching thing is his complex and profound mature temperament, his gentle and handsome face, mixed with a maturity that is beyond his age.

But the contradiction between temperament and appearance is perfectly and cleverly combined at this moment.

From the original memory, I learned that the child's name was Ian Titus, a 14-year-old Western boy who grew up in a single-parent family. The outbreak of the apocalypse caused him to lose his last relative a few months ago.

It was only because he understood the meaning expressed in his mother's last eyes, "Live well", that the half-year-old child endured for so long. However, under the dual pressure of spirit and material, He passed away last week.

"From the day she left, you have been with loneliness. I just hope that you will meet in heaven and renew your family relationship. As for the rest, let me fulfill her last wish on your behalf. I I will work hard to live as Ian Titus."

Looking at the reflection of his young body, Ian sighed.

…

"Searching for supplies is the top priority, but don't worry about the downstairs. It's full of zombies and animals parasitized by fungi. It seems that the only way to go upstairs is to search, the last hope."

Ian thought about his next plan, and then looked at the blood-stained fire ax next to him.

Through his original memories and the fragmentary information collected during this period, he discovered that this was not a traditional zombie apocalypse in novels, but a more bizarre world invaded and parasitized by unknown fungi.

A year ago, an unknown fungus suddenly broke out. The air was filled with countless parasitic spores, which then crazily parasitized all life, yes, all life, including humans, animals, birds, plants, insects, marine life, etc. No one was spared.

Fortunately, after hundreds of millions of years of evolution, insects gradually developed antibodies after the first round of parasitism. Otherwise, there would really be no life in this world under the indiscriminate attacks of insects.

The most important thing is the tenacious vitality of the parasite. Because it is a fungus, there is no such thing as the so-called headshot in the movie that can kill it. Let alone a headshot, even if it is cut in half or even chopped into pieces, it will still be killed by the fungus after a certain period of time. Similar gluing repairs the host, but it will take a long time.

This makes the situation of human beings more and more difficult. Ian doesn't know how many humans are left today.

However, it is true that he feels that the situation is not optimistic. After all, there were once some human strongholds that broadcast broadcasts through simple radio stations continuously every day, but now most of the radio stations have been out of service for a long time, and there are only a few left that are still struggling to support themselves.

"What does it have to do with me? If you are poor, you can be alone, but if you are rich, you can help the world. As long as I live, I can live day by day. There are only two unknown floors left in this 12-story office building. This situation cannot continue. Putting it off and waiting for death is nothing more than drinking poison to quench thirst. The longer you delay, the more trouble you will have."

…

After a night of silence, after dawn the next day, under the primitive survival instinct of human beings, Ian felt that this body was radiating the remaining strength.

Putting on old Martin boots, wrapping his left arm with thick printing paper as a simple shield in case of emergencies, he picked up a fire ax and the indispensable "treasure box opening" tool, three hacksaw blades, and started searching.

After all, after the initial parasitic outbreak, almost all surviving humans are immune to the fungus. What they need to do now is to avoid physical attacks by the parasite.

"Control the distance. The maximum sensing range of the parasite is 5 meters. As long as they are not discovered by them, they are relatively quiet. Once discovered, they will not stop fighting..."

The information about the parasite that he once heard on the radio resurfaced in his mind.

"It's really a gentle and desperate apocalypse. There is no tide of corpses, no crazy bloodthirsty, but just this upright general trend that crushes, divides, reproduces, and parasitizes." Ian thought sadly.

When he opened the door and walked out, he saw a dark and silent corridor. After a dozen seconds of walking around the corridor, he came to the fire escape leading to the upper floor.

As for elevators, don't even think about it. One year is enough to paralyze most of the world's industrial facilities, with power supply bearing the brunt.

Even if there is still electricity, no one with any sense would choose to take the ride. After all, no one knows what will greet them when the elevator door opens.

In about fifteen minutes, Ian successfully reached the 11th floor. Looking at the office area in front of him, although it was messy, there were no obvious human parasites.

After some careful exploration, Ian had to confirm that he was a little lucky, this floor was empty. This is normal. After all, the upper-level office areas are almost always occupied by a company's management, and there are not many staff members.

But unfortunately, not many supplies were obtained. Ian looked at three bags of potato chips, two obviously rotten butter burgers, three bottles of unopened red wine, a whole box of cigars and two caviar cans in front of him in despair.

"It's better than nothing. Although it's a drop in the bucket, it solves an urgent need. Especially potato chips and canned food, which can effectively replenish salt. These foods can probably last another week, and they must go to the top floor after a week."

Ian thought secretly while sorting out the materials harvested this time.

He has always been somewhat resistant to the top-level search, because the infected bird parasite has the ability to perceive three-dimensional objects, unlike humans and other mammals who only perceive the plane. This means that it is a circle with a radius of five meters. All spaces are within its perception range.

Moreover, they do not fly around the clock after being parasitized. They spend most of their time perching nearby on tree trunks, roofs, or unbroken telephone poles.

Therefore, exploration on the top floor is very likely to provoke them.

"Forget it, live in the present, thinking too much will only increase troubles. These things can barely survive for at least a week."

After a moment's rest, Ian, like a hamster, began to pack up various useful supplies, and then moved them downstairs little by little.

In his own small stronghold, the lit solid wood furniture served as fuel. Three steel bars as thick as chopsticks were intertwined together as a simple stand, and then he skillfully set up the pot.

The pot is actually a large 304 stainless steel cup. Add a little flour, potato chips, and caviar into it, then pour in half a bottle of mineral water to make a paste, and wait quietly for the water inside to boil. This is Ian Today's lunch.

When the wood is burning, there is a crackling sound of the bonfire, and smoke rises from the pot, accompanied by the sweet fragrance of wheat.

Ian stared blankly at the dancing flames while unconsciously playing with the toys in his hands.

When I was searching for supplies, I found a 13-inch wand in a desk drawer, but the difference was its strange shape and it looked a little different from the one described in the original "Harry Potter" book.

In his previous life, Ian was actually a true HP fan. He also read a lot of books and read countless HP fanfictions.

The man was a boy until he died. Since he discovered this toy, he packed it up with supplies like other supplies when he had nothing to do. Besides, this wand weighs nothing and doesn't take up space, so it's just handy.

Visual inspection shows that the material is an iron core wrapped in a layer of dark resin, and the shape is not like any familiar wand.

"Expelliarmus" subconsciously waved his wand, a killer weapon, and recited the spell in conjunction with it. Ian was also having fun with it. It was just a random seasoning, but this wand really gave him face. For an instant, the top of the wand flashed with red light, and then quickly wrapped him up.

New book, please collect it, please collect it, please collect it, thank you all readers.