Ding!
Congratulations! You have acquired the extraordinary trait [Butcher's Instinct].
In the kitchen, Ian, about to dispatch a hen, his face lit up with surprise. He immediately began to examine the trait's effects. Acquiring an extraordinary trait meant a skill had reached a new level of mastery, a glimpse into its true essence. Similar to the Mind Perception trait derived from psychology, he wondered what effect this one, born from biological dissection, would have.
As he examined the trait, he discovered that Butcher's Instinct allowed him to instantly analyze the optimal dissection structure of any living creature. How to put it? Useful, if not groundbreaking.
Looking at the hen in his grasp, Ian felt as if he could see through its feathers, directly to the perfect spot for his knife. With a swift motion and a crack, the hen's life was extinguished. The decisiveness of the act drew praise from the nearby chefs.
"Wow, Ian, your butchering skills are getting better and better!"
After dressing the hen, Ian helped to portion the other chickens the chefs had plucked. With a few swift cuts, crack, crack, crack, the meat was neatly separated.
"Heh, I've gotten a bit more practiced," Ian replied with a smile. Acquiring the extraordinary trait had indeed brought a significant improvement.
While the extraordinary traits of these ordinary skills were certainly impressive, they were just that – ordinary. Ian couldn't help but wonder what extraordinary traits magical skills might produce. Would they be even more powerful and wondrous?
Unfortunately, he still had to wait half a month for the owl to deliver his study books. Even now, Ian still didn't understand why Dumbledore insisted on a home visit first. Was Wools Orphanage really that charming?
That morning, at his desk, he found himself unable to concentrate on his books. "Such a long wait! I want to learn magic now!"
The following days crawled by. The feeling was worse than waiting for a pre-ordered grail; it was like knowing the goddess had already descended, but he was still waiting for the postal service to deliver the necessary… equipment.
"I am an adult soul, after all," Ian muttered, unable to articulate his impatience. It was the anticipation of discovering a new world, the thrill of stepping from reality into a realm of magic. Any normal person, let alone an adult soul, would be eager to explore the mysteries of magic.
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That day, Ian decided to skip work. Although he was his own boss at his small stall… Being an adult meant making adult decisions. What was a little trip to Diagon Alley? Could that stop him?
Clutching his accumulated "fortune," Ian set out, relying on his fragmented memories of the original story, attempting to locate the Leaky Cauldron in the sprawling metropolis of London. It was a pub invisible to Muggles, visible only to wizards, a gateway to Diagon Alley, the heart of the wizarding world. This was how Harry Potter had entered Diagon Alley in the books, and Ian intended to follow suit.
However, he only knew the pub's name, not its actual address. The streets teemed with people. Ian blended into the crowd, searching block after block, but the pub remained elusive.
"The Ox Head... Jenny's Restaurant, Tomorrow's Diner, KFC..." None of the countless shops were his target.
Like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the Leaky Cauldron was only visible to wizards. Logically, Ian should have been able to see it. He knew he simply hadn't found the right location.
"Hmm?" Mid-search, Ian realized he was being followed. A wave of unease washed over him. Human traffickers? Organ harvesting wasn't prevalent yet, was it?
He quickened his pace, taking several turns while glancing back. The follower was cloaked in black, their face obscured. Suddenly, it seemed to make sense. This attire wasn't cosplay.
A dark wizard abducting a young wizard? Who knew their motives? Certainly not to adopt an heir to their dark arts.
"I'm being targeted!" Ian's heart pounded. Panicked, he spotted a subway entrance and dashed inside. The cloaked figure remained outside, perhaps wary of using magic in a crowded public space. After all, abducting a young wizard was far more serious than violating Ministry regulations. The difference between a misdemeanor and an act of terrorism.
Heart still racing, Ian gratefully boarded the subway. An hour later, he was back at Wools Orphanage.
"That was close! The wizarding world is a dangerous place!" As Ian's small figure walked through the gates of the square, imposing orphanage, he was unaware of two figures watching him from the shadows.
One of them was the man Ian had perceived as a "dark wizard."
Dumbledore's calm voice resonated beside the cloaked figure. "Aren't you being overly cautious, preventing him from encountering the magical world prematurely?"
The cloaked figure remained silent, a statue in the night. His thoughts drifted back to an hour earlier. He had cast a subtle charm on Ian, rendering the Leaky Cauldron invisible. Ian hadn't failed to find the pub; he had been magically prevented from seeing it.
"Diagon Alley is no place for children's games. It's crawling with dark wizards. I don't want him ending up like his foolish…" The cloaked figure trailed off, turning to Dumbledore with deep-set eyes. After a long silence, a raspy voice emerged.
"He belongs in Slytherin."
Without another word, the cloaked figure apparated, leaving only a faint breeze and dissipating magical ripples.
"Wools Orphanage…" Dumbledore murmured, remaining alone. He gazed at the orphanage's weathered gates, his eyes fixed on the dilapidated sign, a complex expression on his face as if lost in memory.
"I hope I won't make the same mistake this time." With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore turned and melted into the night, his departing figure appearing slightly stooped.
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