The sky was slowly brightening.

Dawn gathered all his belongings and left the inn.

Although his own examination showed that the strange dream from last night hadn’t caused any harm to either his mind or body, things had already come to this point.

No matter what, Dawn wanted to get this curse resolved.

He cast the Disillusionment Charm before heading downstairs.

Squinting against the rising sun, he thought carefully about his plans for the day.

He intended to retrace the same path he had walked yesterday, going back to both the bar and the bookshop to investigate further.

After that, he would seek out other wizards—preferably ones experienced in lifting curses—and ask whether they had ever encountered a similar situation.

If so, what solutions did they have?

Deep in thought, Dawn suddenly heard a loud bang.

His body tensed instinctively, and he snapped his head toward the sound… only to see a man closing the door to his own room.

Dawn gave a bitter smile, pressing a hand to his forehead. He had truly become like a startled snake at the sight of a bowstring.

But it wasn’t hard to understand why.

The last two times a door had inexplicably opened, Voldemort had walked in once, and Anubis had appeared the other time…

No wonder that now, whenever he heard the sound of a door, his body reacted before his mind did.

….

Heading once more toward the Giza Plateau, Dawn, now familiar with the road, didn’t bother looking for a camel vendor.

Because he suddenly remembered—he still had a repaired broomstick tucked away in his money pouch.

He took it out, checked it over one more time, and seeing no major problems, mounted it under the cover of the Disillusionment Charm before lifting into the sky.

Though it was an outdated model long since eliminated from Quidditch matches, it was still far faster than a camel by any measure.

But…

For some reason, when he had redrawn the broom’s magical circuits, something had apparently gone wrong.

The broom’s built-in wind-resistance charm was gone, and Dawn’s face was stung raw by the rushing air. He had to spend extra effort casting protective magic to compensate.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, the thought struck him once more—he really needed to learn Apparition as soon as possible.

….

Before long—less than an hour later—the three great pyramids were already in sight.

Dawn descended, landed on the sandy ground, and stowed his broom away.

Although it was still early, many of the tents had already opened for business. Vendors bustled about, arranging small goods outside for display.

A quick glance was enough for Dawn to see that both the bar and the bookshop were operating as usual. Neither owner had fled, which made it unlikely that either was connected to the curse.

Still, he needed to ask them directly.

But before that, he wandered the area, hoping to find a stall that sold potions.

Unfortunately, while potion sellers were indeed present, he didn’t find either Polyjuice Potion or Veritaserum among their wares.

“Looks like even in Egypt, these aren’t things you can just buy off the shelf.”

Dawn felt a twinge of frustration.

If he truly wanted those potions, he suspected he’d have to go all the way to the Valley of the Kings in Luxor, and look for less reputable shops.

Unwilling to waste time, and not wanting to act under his true appearance, he decided to keep himself invisible under the Disillusionment Charm the entire time.

The bar was lively even in the morning, but the bookshop had far fewer customers by comparison.

With a flick of his wand, Dawn summoned a gust of wind to lift the flap of the tent marked [Amenhotep Bookshop], slipping inside at the same moment.

The shop looked no different from yesterday.

The old man still sat behind the counter with his cracked glasses, head buried in a book, completely unaware that an intruder had entered.

°Imperio°

Dawn didn’t bother with pleasantries—he cast the Imperius Curse immediately, then sealed the tent with magic before stepping up to the old man.

“Have you done anything unusual to the customers who’ve come here recently?”

He asked directly.

The old man’s expression was vacant, his voice sluggish. “…What?”

Dawn frowned.

He had studied Occlumency, but had very little training in Legilimency, and without Veritaserum, the only tool he had for interrogation was the Imperius Curse.

Though the spell compelled absolute obedience, it also left its victim in a blissful daze that often muddled their responses.

So Dawn repeated the question more clearly: “Have you cast any dark magic on the books or protective charms you sell?”

“No,” the old man answered bluntly.

Dawn sighed. He had expected as much, so he wasn’t disappointed.

After a moment of thought, he asked, “If someone were cursed, what solutions are there in Egypt?”

“Go to a hospital.”

“Which hospital?”

“A hospital that treats curses.”

“…”

Dawn stared at the man’s serious face, utterly speechless.

He spent a long time rephrasing and pressing him with more questions until he managed to piece together a clearer picture from the fragments of the old man’s replies.

Due to Egypt’s lack of magical manpower, there was nothing like St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in Britain. Instead, the Egyptian Ministry of Magic had only a smaller hospital attached to it.

Dawn’s expression darkened.

Although the hospital was open to the public, there was no way he could set foot in the Ministry itself—not with his current identity issues.

“Is there any other way?” Dawn asked.

The old man hesitated, then said, “The Carter family… they’re also very skilled at lifting curses.”

“The Carters?”

Dawn blinked, then nodded slowly. That wasn’t too surprising.

If they were constantly dealing with Egyptian curses, then naturally they would have some expertise in countering them.

Still… Dawn wasn’t exactly confident. The Carters seemed cursed themselves half the time, constantly plagued by misfortune.

Would they really be able to help him?

Regardless, he would have to try.

“So… since they’re fixated on Tutankhamun’s tomb, does that mean I’ll have to head to the Valley of the Kings in Luxor?”

He thought about it for a while, then looked back at the stiff old man. “Where exactly is the Carter family located?”

“Egypt.”

“…”

Dawn took a deep breath. “Be more specific.”

“Horus.”

“Horus?”

Another Egyptian god?

Dawn froze for a moment, confused.

But then he recalled hearing that name from the bar owner—it was supposed to be a business that specialized in lodging services.

So that was actually a Carter family property?

Clicking his tongue, Dawn pressed the old man several more times until he was certain. Then, without hesitation, he knocked him out with a Stunner.

°Obliviate°

Dawn cast a Memory Charm to erase the recent encounter, then propped the old man back upright in his chair.

After one last inspection of all the books and protective charms in the shop, finding nothing suspicious, he turned to leave.

Since the bar owner had made a point of mentioning [Horus], it meant the Carter family must have a business near the Great Pyramid of Khufu as well.

Dawn intended to seek it out.

But—

He had barely taken two steps when a sudden chill shot down his spine.

Dawn snapped around.

In the beam of sunlight cutting through the tent’s fabric… His shadow stretched long across the canvas, but it no longer looked like his own.

It had the head of a wolf and the body of a man.

________________

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