Hermione, one of the Golden Trio's combatants, followed Mr. Granger out. For the upcoming holiday, it seemed unlikely that she would intersect with Ian again. Everything appeared unchanged on the surface, but Ian knew that much had changed dramatically.
Of course.
The Orphanage had resumed its normal life, not much different from Ian's memories, thanks to Mr. Granger's donation. The orphanage received a substantial amount of funding. Delighted, Ms. Helena arranged an extra meal for everyone at dinner, allowing Ian to enjoy a long-lost pleasure.
Successfully slaughtering a duck, Dissection Proficiency+1 Successfully slaughtering a duck, Dissection Proficiency+1
Successfully slaughtering a duck, Dissection Proficiency+1 Successfully slaughtering a duck, Dissection Proficiency+1
Successfully slaughtering a duck, Dissection Proficiency+1 Successfully slaughtering a duck, Dissection Proficiency+1
...
Dissection.
This was a skill Ian found difficult to gain proficiency in at school. Even though Ian had defeated some enemies, he couldn't dissect enemies like he could slaughter chickens and ducks.
Only by completely breaking down creatures like a butcher could Ian gain Proficiency through dissection, and creatures like chickens and ducks would only ever yield a small amount of Proficiency.
It was definitely one of the most challenging skills to improve. Otherwise, Ian wouldn't have taken so many years to raise it to level 5. Although Ian had gained the Extraordinary traits of the "Butcher Instinct" for the Dissection skill, its usefulness for wizards like Ian was quite limited.
After all, wizards rarely engaged in close combat with enemies, and the "Butcher Instinct" was only useful for Grindelwald's living limb Finite Incantatem, allowing Ian to dissect enemies in great detail without killing them.
Without torturing others, most people wouldn't need to use living limb Finite Incantatem. During his time at Hogwarts, Ian certainly wouldn't have needed to torture anyone.
Most young wizards, faced with Ian, would back down with just a glare. It was even less likely that Ian would need to use living limb Finite Incantatem. Therefore, the Dissection skill, which had stagnated for nearly a year, could only be resumed once Ian returned to Orphanage.
Of course.
Although he didn't eat people and is never planning on doing so, Ian was still tirelessly dedicated to training this skill, not only for the familiar feeling but also because of his intuition.
"My sixth sense has always been strong. The legendary traits that have not yet awakened in this skill will definitely be of great help to me in the field of biological alchemy."
Yes, that was Ian's sixth sense. If there had to be a field related to dissection in the realm of magic, it would undoubtedly be the all-encompassing field of alchemy.
Biological alchemy, a sensitive area rarely mentioned by wizards, but Ian felt no taboos about it. He always believed that there were only evil people, not evil knowledge.
"The knowledge of biological alchemy can also help wizards refining potions. There are connections between every magic field, and the introductory threshold of alchemy requires involvement in all subjects for good reasons.
"In fact, this is also true in refining potions. If you don't understand the specific structure of a creature, how can potion-makers create potions that are beneficial to that creature?" Ian explained these profound truths to Lupin while buying chickens and ducks from Orphanage for the kitchen.
"So, even though I rejected you, do you still have a reason to plot against me after you returned last night?" Lupin's expression was strange.
While helping children clean Ian's room, he found Ian's diary from last night. Of course, it was more of a new notebook with only one page of content. Lupin suspected that young wizards intentionally wrote it and left it in the dormitory for him to see.
"Did it tempt you?" Smiling, Ian swiftly chopped off the head of the chicken in his hand, then swiftly dissected it while Lupin stared in disbelief. Wings, breasts, skeletons, claws, legs... without any damage, even the twitching organs, everything happened in just a few tens of seconds. To be honest, seeing this speed that even a professional butcher lacked, Lupin found it hard to imagine how many chickens Ian had killed before.
"If you mean that you used only sixty words to tell me your thoughts on refining Wolfsbane Potion, and then threatened me with a 4,000-word essay that if I didn't agree, you would turn me into what kind of sewer monster, I think I have already reported your threat to Dumbles."
Lupin stared expressionlessly at Ian not far off. His job was to collect duck down and chicken feathers, which would later be turned into useful everyday items by the ever-resourceful Ms. Helena. Especially the duck down, down jackets didn't come cheap in Britain.
On ordinary days, collecting duck down to make winter coats for the children was the best way to prepare for the cold season.
"That's not some sewer beast, it's Warwick, the Wrath Beast of Zaun. His body underwent painful experiments and mutated, fused with intricately designed fluid tanks and medication pumps that can inject alchemy-synthesized rage hormones into his bloodstream, enhancing his ability to hunt down evil criminals," Ian corrected Lupin's terminology.
"No matter what new name you give it, it doesn't change the fact that you threatened to turn me into a biological weapon. I think I now understand why Dumbles wants me to keep an eye on you," Lupin replied with a helpless look, clearly struggling to respond to Ian's wildly imaginative and borderline creepy ideas.
"You're making things up again. I clearly just wrote a piece of fantasy fiction in my diary. You were the one who peeked at it and assumed it was about you. If anyone's being underhanded here, it's you, not me," Ian said while washing his hands after finishing up with the ingredients.
"Oh? And your 'fiction' just so happened to draw my face on your depiction of a 'werewolf'?" Lupin remained unfazed, clearly not buying a word Ian said.
"I don't know any other werewolves," Ian replied confidently and unapologetically.
"You should be thankful I'm a fairly even-tempered werewolf. If any other werewolf saw your so-called 'little story,' I doubt they'd need any of your imagined potions to tear you to pieces," Lupin said, seemingly mocking Ian, though in truth he was trying to give Ian a warning.
He didn't think Ian was truly a bad person, just a kid with too many twisted ideas. After all, a young wizard who could take care of a bunch of younger brothers and sisters couldn't be all that evil.
"Well, that's the kind of challenge I enjoy," Ian chuckled indifferently, then cast a sneaky glance toward the front door, Aunt Marilyn, who was in charge of cooking, still hadn't returned from the supply run.
His eyes lit up at once. Sensing an opportunity, he immediately got to work, eager to showcase his culinary skills. He tossed the cleaned and cut meat into a pot of cold water to blanch it.
"Today, you'll be having Jellied Stir-Fried Chicken and Vinegar-Blood Duck!" Ian's cooking wasn't exactly gourmet, but it wasn't terrible either. He had practiced a bit in the Hogwarts house-elf kitchens. His level 3 [Cooking] skill wasn't his peak, but when it came to creativity, Ian was unmatched. Even the house-elves had been moved to tears by his eccentric dishes.
They were literally crying from how delicious it was.
"Just hearing those names makes me want to go on a diet," Lupin muttered, starting to suspect Ian was about to ruin perfectly good ingredients. His eyes scanned the scene, already collecting evidence.
Ian was pulling out seasonings that even werewolves wouldn't touch. Before Lupin could stop him, Ian had already begun cooking. Left with no choice, Lupin resorted to stealthy sabotage.
(To Be Continued…)
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