Crazy Knight

By DAISY HARPER

Since being reincarnated to another world, Claude began his decadent journey, but did not expect to be arranged by his headmaster. "Are you sick to live with this man?" In front of the white-haired woman pointed at Claude angrily said.

In this way, a story of Claude's becoming a knight begins, but is it really as simple as it looks? What i

• Language: English
• Publisher: DAISY HARPER
• Release date: Jul 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088202340

Book preview

Chapter 1

I have to say, the spirit is too strong, sometimes is not necessarily a good thing

Why the hell does it hurt so much? It seems that death is not a good thing. But where am I dead this time? The first time I died, I was just a human being. After the accidental death, I encountered a 13 points Yin difference, not to let people reincarnate, what can I say to let me change time and space to change the way of living and then I was accidentally swayed by a few words to the birthplace of evil in the hunter world

However, the space that can produce hunters is not so suitable for normal life. Even if I never go looking for trouble, trouble finds me anyway. Well, I had to die when I was only fifteen. I think the only thing I did right in my short life was, before I died, to erase the memory of my sister Ciszko, whom I had raised up to the age of nine, with the powerful psychic powers I had been given. Although, I'm sure of another thing now, too. It seems that I am the one who is causing Syzko's memory problems; But I don't regret it. Indeed, in the miserable manner in which I died, it is much happier for a child not yet ten years old to forget.

When I could barely overcome the pain, which felt like being run over by a car, I lifted myself up and found myself in an even smaller toddler shape than I had been before I arrived on Meteor Street. And the overly vivid pain in my body proved to me that I was still in the world and not returning to the underworld because of death. As for the small silver bracelet on the wrist, it is still clever to stay there, only occasionally flashing with the change of light.

As I leaned, speechless, under the nearest tree and surveyed the apparently unfamiliar landscape around me, several boys and girls who looked about my age walked in the direction I was now. They didn't notice me, they were joking and laughing among themselves, but one of them looked distinctly different from the others. A group of boys ran after the man dressed in strange rags; Short and thin; Messy black hair; The boys with angry expressions and cowering movements, while the other girls didn't seem to notice anything at all, and they still talked and laughed loudly and self-consciously

Frowning, I didn't really like what I was seeing. Even though I spent more than five years in that damn place on Meteor Street, I have to say I still haven't fully gotten used to the damn rules. So, I reached out from the side to touch a few small stones, toward the several swaggering boys shot out.

A few of the boys fell into a ball. They cried out in horror, got up, and then the fat one of them stared at the boy who had been bullied by them with a twisted and strange expression. He shook out his fat finger and pointed it straight at the little boy who was staring blankly at them and didn't even try to run away at once: Harry Potter! How... How dare you! I want, I want to tell my mother!

Not me! I didn't do anything! Not me! The embarrassed little boy shook his head in horror, and he looked at the fat boy's eyes with confused begging and resentment.

Although this mess was actually caused by me, I began to wonder more or less what was wrong with these two boys? Why did the little fat man have the audacity to assume that the poor boy he bullied caused the mess when he had no evidence or clues? And the bullied boy is even more strange, although he shouted so loud, even far more than he seems likely to make the volume, but that deep hidden in the depths of the eyes of the despair he also think it is he caused why?

I didn't know where the hell I was being thrown, but apparently I understood what they were saying, and I knew the language -- English -- even if I hadn't heard it for five years.

Ouch! My God! The boys did not hear the voice, for it was obviously not that loud, and they were still confused by the strange thing that had happened. The girls, however, were not afraid, though they wondered why the boys fell into a heap almost at the same time. One of the little girls, who was walking a little further back, heard a weak voice, and when she looked round, What she saw was a small child wearing only a large smock - much smaller than herself - and his smock had obvious blood stains on it

Then all the girls, who had turned back at the exclamation of their curious companion, gave a shriek one after another

Please help me. I want to go home. Anyway, I don't want to be seen as a monster or anything dangerous because of these kids, even though I'm probably not that safe. Therefore, I did not hesitate to pretend that I was an innocent and unhappy little man

Chapter 2

Maybe because I'm a good actor? Maybe these people are stupid enough to see that they live peacefully? Anyway, after the group of little boys and girls called their parents in a panic and confusion, I was soon taken home by a middle-aged couple. (After five years of living on Meteor Street, this development really makes me a little ill adjusted.)

Do you know your name, my child? Mrs. Clayton, who was not much of a beauty in appearance, but very gentle in temperament, was the housewife of the couple who easily brought me home. And it wasn't until she had washed me thoroughly and fed me a bulging belly that she remembered that she and her husband didn't even know what my name was (I must say, I've been trying to say it, but they didn't give me a chance to say it, item after item).

'Yes, ma 'am. My name is knight, chris knight." In fact, I'm not sure it's necessary for me to write the name of Meteor Street. However, it was really difficult for me to give myself a new name right away, and I'm really not good at that. Moreover, Meteor Street belongs to the life, can have a complete name is a very valuable thing, really make people can not give up.

Oh, that's a pretty good name. The Claytons exchanged a look and then returned their attention to the little boy. So, my sweet little jazz, do you know where your home is? This time it was Mr. Clayton who said, Well, I mean, do you know what city, what district, what street is your home in?

I know, I know I live on Sunset Boulevard. It is of course not clear whether this street has me or not. Of course, if it does, then I'm lucky. As for not? I'm quite proud of the fact that I'm just a child at the moment, who can really expect a four or five year old kid?

Sure enough, the Claytons looked at each other again, but they didn't seem to find anything or anything. And I was easily adopted into this family for the time being. The kind couple even decided to submit an application to their community so that I could temporarily attend the primary school here.

After half a month, and still no news of my family, I was officially adopted by the Claytons, who were over 30 but had no children, under the care of various local civil agencies. My name was kept, but Clayton was appended again. Then, I also officially transferred to the primary school in this block

On the first day of school, as soon as I walked into the class I was about to join, a familiar, thin figure came into my sight almost immediately. In the course of the class, Marietta, a little girl sitting beside me, kindly introduced the names and families of all the students in the class, including the boy who was thin and timid.

-- Harry Potter. An orphan. He lived with his aunt the Dursleys, and his aunt's family treated him badly, but there were always strange things happening around him. So, although the neighbors knew that the Dursleys were not very friendly to the boy, they all felt that it was a family matter and not worth bothering too much

Harry Potter. Speaking of which, the name, at one time, seemed familiar? But is it really true? Even if the boy's uncle was a Dursley, and even if the boy's cousin was a fat, fat little wretch! However, I really want someone to loudly and righteously deny me that my guess is wrong and that this child is not the Harry Potter! He can't be a wizard! And he's not the Nemesis of some crazy demon king

Of course, I thought, I finally had to admit that I hadn't guessed wrong. The Dursleys' nearest neighbor is an old, single woman with a dozen feral cats, even though I don't know her last name. (In fact, even if I knew, I would not be able to accurately judge, because I can not remember the name of the old lady who only appeared in no more than ten acts when I saw it so many years ago.)

Marietta was very enthusiastic about me when I just transferred to the school. She was always willing to do her best to help me, from showing me around the campus, to lending me all the notes of previous courses, and even to make a successful snack in home economics class, she was generous to share half of me. Just because I am really very clumsy, just the simplest fried egg, I actually gave a piece of black charcoal

Primary school life is quite leisurely, a group of children living in a peaceful environment, simple and innocent even people sometimes feel that they are so cruel, but people can not seriously to hate them. Children, before they know how to distinguish between good and evil, all the views of good and evil they show are all instilled by their parents and elders.

As I saw when I first got here, the boys were bullying Harry Potter because his cousin had led the way, and Darley was being so reckless because of his parents' disgust and criticism of Harry Potter

I don't think they're right, but I'm not good enough to want to help him or save him. Maybe it's the five years I spent on Meteor Street before I came here, or maybe it's just the way I am? Anyway, I chose to look on coldly, and I did not have the right words to stand out and seek justice, nor did I have the impulse to save the abused teenager from the fire and water.

After all, do I remember, at any rate, that Harry Potter could only be trapped in such a catastrophe until he was eleven, and that after that, by the joke of fate, he would have to face worse and more painful things until he was truly an adult

So, the present life, perhaps can be just as a kind of exercise.

Although I thought so, and did so, I suddenly discovered a pretty bad reality

Chris Knight? With his eyes wide open and his dirty hands shaking, Harry stared shyly at the little boy of his own age, just a short distance in front of him, with some fear but no escape.

It was an accident. You didn't see anything, did you? That's a pretty bad situation. I frowned a little.

Chapter 3

Of course, it is not my pleasure to meet a pervert, and naturally it is impossible to be happy to let him succeed. So, all I did was mentally manipulate that dirty pervert, make him strip himself naked and run happily around the street for three laps. I really don't think what I did was wrong, he had the audacity to molest young children in broad daylight, I let him run naked is really not a bad thing, I think so.

No, I saw it, you told him to take his clothes off. Harry looked carefully at the little boy who looked a little scary, and said what he had seen.

Why is the child so troublesome? I'm starting to get a little annoyed that I can't do anything about Harry Potter. Although I was too impressed by the previous five years of my life to seriously blur the plot of the story I once loved, I firmly believe that the old man Dumbledore will never really turn his back on Harry completely. However, I really didn't want anyone to know that I was different, based on how I found out about their attitude towards Harry Potter. Well, I just gave him a good lesson he deserved. I frowned again, But I also have to admit that I wish you could keep it a secret. Of course, I can grant some wishes, as long as you can be sure that it will not cause me trouble."

Harry's eyes seemed to widen a little more than before, and his tiny hands stopped shaking. He squeezed them tightly, took several deep breaths, and finally made up his mind. I, I want to do what you just did.

Well, it's not really that hard to understand. But I was really surprised by his desire. Not that I'm denying it, I shrugged my shoulders and went straight to Harry Potter. I don't quite understand how I got this ability, it's a kind of, well, maybe innate, I've used it since I could talk and remember. I watched Harry's face intently, watching all the changes in his expression, seeing him first disappointed and then as if he had figured something out, though he still looked disappointed. I can't quite put my finger on it. Also, I can't use it all the time. It makes me very uncomfortable and I get very sleepy.

Ouch! But it's great! Harry looked worried, suddenly looking up and down at Chris nervously. And hesitantly rubbed his hands against his body, as if he wanted to reach out and was not so shy.

Well, I'm all right now. That pervert's willpower is weak. That kind of idiot who is not even a piece of shit, of course, can't really waste my mental power, let alone the possible backlash.

Strange things happen to me all the time. Harry hung his head, his hands wringing uncomfortably around the front of his coat. My aunt and uncle hate me. They always call me a monster. Harry's voice sounded very pathetic.

I think I could have predicted that, the boy! I have to say, this is probably the worst development model for me.

Potter. After struggling for a while, I can only scold myself in my heart that I am not firm enough, and finally reached out my hand and pressed the shoulder of the boy in front of me, You are better to think about how to let yourself not go at every turn.

Huh? What rampage? Harry blinked bewildered.

Well, the kid really thought it had nothing to do with him, I have to understand that. "Harry, why do you think these strange