Ian watched the departing figures of the Enforcement Team, deep in thought. The law enforcement here appeared extremely strict and highly efficient. That made him a little more cautious about tonight's plan to "visit" the Ministry of Magic. Judging from the quality of these Enforcers alone, the African Ministry of Magic was probably not to be underestimated.
Of course, to Ian, these people were not particularly strong, but sufficient caution was still necessary; after all, a true Master always keeps the heart of an Apprentice.
Ian had grown rather fond of using that phrase to describe himself lately.
Partly as a reminder.
And partly as a subtle form of humblebragging.
After the Enforcers quickly escorted away the two lousy Wizards who had caused the disturbance, the marketplace became like a lake disturbed by a pebble; the ripples soon faded, and the lively noise resumed once more. The surrounding crowd dispersed while discussing the matter among themselves, many wearing expressions of schadenfreude or simple indifference.
Clearly, incidents like this were far from rare here.
"Makuru and Kafu are done for this time," A Wizard wearing a snakeskin cloak whispered to his companion, his eyes gleaming with schadenfreude. "Those Ministry of Magic people love collecting 'interrogation taxes.' If you don't pay enough Galleons, don't even think about walking out alive."
"Just Galleons?" Another sneered. "I heard someone caused trouble last month and had a third of his lifespan drained away. He turned into a living corpse and is still sweeping floors in the 'Silent Tower.'"
"Serves him right. You provoke 'Red-Eye' Baruka and still expect to leave unharmed?"
"Exactly. As if Baruka himself isn't smuggling rocket launchers. Yet he's still thriving in the Ministry of Magic."
"Anyway, I think they'll be fined at least this much." One Wizard held up five fingers and waved them around.
"I doubt that's all. The new captain of the Enforcement Team is supposedly incorruptible and backed by powerful connections. Those two idiots just happened to run straight into the gun barrel."
"Hmph, no matter how powerful he is, can he compare to Minister Gani's brother-in-law? As long as the money's there, then, "
"Shh! Keep your voice down unless you want trouble!"
Listening to the surrounding discussions, Ian immediately understood.
The corruption within the African Ministry of Magic truly was as widespread as Babua had hinted, and as he himself had expected. The Enforcers were not maintaining order, but "collecting taxes." Interrogations were not for uncovering truth, but for squeezing out profit. The so-called "law" was merely a tool for the powerful to exploit the weak.
From the lowest Enforcer to the highest officials, this atmosphere had likely spread everywhere. It also explained why Babua, merely an intelligence broker, had the confidence to acquire restricted portkeys leading into the Ministry of Magic itself, so long as the price was right, there was probably nothing the officials here would not sell.
"No wonder..." Ian shook his head slightly, though it had little to do with him. His goal was to find Newt and leave safely, not get dragged into local political disputes.
A faint smile appeared on Ian's lips, yet there was no anger or righteous indignation in it. He had long since seen through the true nature of this world.
The magical world had never been some "noble ivory tower," but merely a jungle society draped in robes. Europe had Death Eaters; Africa had warlord Wizards. Fundamentally, there was no difference.
"It's none of my business," He muttered softly before continuing his stroll.
He wandered around casually for a while longer.
He passed a "Soul Pawnshop," where people exchanged fragments of memories for Galleons; walked by a "Spells Auction House," where the auctioneer was selling "dark magic that could keep someone awake for three days"; and even outside a "Voodoo Doll Custom Shop," he saw a young couple happily choosing a curse package designed to "bring bad luck to romantic rivals."
The magic of this land was naked and real, utterly without pretense.
Ian was not particularly interested in any of it. He merely bought a few exotic-looking magical trinkets.
He planned to bring them back for the Weasley brothers as research materials.
Seeing the hands of his pocket watch approaching two in the afternoon, he turned and headed toward the restaurant called "Secret Broth."
From afar, he spotted the waiter who had taken his Galleons standing anxiously at the restaurant entrance, craning his neck left and right with anticipation written all over his face.
The moment he saw Ian, the waiter immediately ran over as though he had spotted a savior, his face overflowing with smiles.
"Honored sir! You're finally here! Everything is prepared, I've been waiting for you!" the waiter said eagerly while rubbing his hands together.
"Mm. Lead the way," Ian nodded.
The waiter hurriedly led the way, guiding Ian through the bustling main streets before turning into increasingly remote alleyways. Eventually, they stopped in front of a completely inconspicuous and somewhat rundown shop.
There was no signboard outside, and the windows had been nailed shut with wooden planks, making the place appear abandoned for years.
"Sir, please follow me."
The waiter pushed open the half-closed wooden door. Inside was an empty, dust-covered room.
Yet in the fireplace, emerald-green flames were burning unexpectedly brightly.
The waiter pulled out a handful of sparkling powder from his pocket and said to Ian, "Sir, please stand in front of the fireplace. This is Floo Powder."
Ian was slightly surprised. He had not expected that meeting the boss would require using the Floo Network.
Nevertheless, he stepped before the fireplace as instructed. The waiter sprinkled the Floo Powder into the flames, and instantly the fire surged upward, transforming into a crystalline green blaze.
"Please clearly state your destination: 'Tranquil Hill, Oak House,'" the waiter reminded him.
"Tranquil Hill, Oak House."
Ian repeated it clearly.
"Whoosh…!"
A surge of emerald-green flames suddenly shot upward, almost filling the entire fireplace.
Ian was completely unfazed by it. After all, he came from Hogwarts and was very familiar with Floo Powder, so he could easily tell that there was nothing wrong with the guidance of this Floo connection. He stepped directly into the flames.
In an instant, the world spun around him, while roaring wind howled past his ears. After the familiar sensation of spinning and compression faded, he realized he was now standing inside a fireplace of an entirely different style.
Stepping out of the fireplace, he discovered that he was in a spacious and tidy living room. The decorations carried obvious African characteristics, yet they were blended with certain comfortable European elements.
Through the windows, he could see a beautiful village outside, shaded by lush green trees. Houses of various styles were scattered in orderly fashion throughout the area, making the place resemble a secluded paradise.
The waiter followed closely behind him out of the fireplace and respectfully said to Ian,
"Sir, please follow me. The boss's home is just a short distance ahead."
The two walked out of the building.
The place appeared to be the village's public Floo Network access point. Exquisite wooden cottages were arranged throughout the village, their roofs covered with waterproof palm leaves, with flowers planted in front of every doorway.
Several Wizards sat leisurely in rattan chairs drinking tea, while children chased after a tiny fire-breathing lizard across the grass.
This place was completely different from the chaos and roughness of the marketplace, it was practically a magical utopia.
Precisely because of that, the people living here were undoubtedly upper-class Wizards of the African magical world, people with wealth and status. Unwilling to become involved in the conflicts of the marketplace, they had chosen to live in seclusion within this village protected by powerful Barriers.
After walking along the clean stone pathways for several minutes, the two arrived before a small courtyard surrounded by low hedges.
The house inside did not appear especially luxurious. The courtyard gate was short and woven from vines, looking entirely ordinary, though it was carefully maintained and full of the warmth of daily life.
Standing outside, the waiter stepped forward and knocked on the gate.
Soon, an elderly yet vigorous voice came from inside:
"Come in. The door's unlocked."
Hearing this, Ian immediately realized that after he had left the restaurant, the waiter must have already contacted the boss through some method. The other party had clearly been expecting him.
The waiter made a "please" gesture toward Ian, with no intention of entering himself.
"Sir, please go in alone. The boss is waiting inside. I'll return to the shop first."
After saying that, he bowed and departed.
Ian did not hesitate and pushed open the courtyard gate.
However, the moment he stepped through it, the scenery around him underwent a complete transformation!
What had looked like an ordinary rural courtyard from the outside suddenly expanded internally by dozens of times!
What entered his vision was a vast and vibrant pastoral landscape.
Neatly arranged farmlands stretched into the distance, planted with all kinds of crops, some familiar to Ian, others entirely unknown. Far away, there was even a small fruit forest and a gently flowing stream.
The sunlight was bright, the air fresh, and the entire place felt like an independent paradise isolated from the outside world.
Clearly, this seemingly ordinary house had been enhanced with an extraordinarily advanced Undetectable Extension Charm.
The interior space had been expanded into a fully functional miniature manor.
There were singing sunflowers, vines capable of watering themselves automatically, and dwarf trees bearing glowing fruits.
Ian's gaze swept across the crops, and a trace of admiration flashed through his eyes.
Not only were the plants ornamental, even the crops themselves were no ordinary food.
The corn growing in the fields contained faint fluctuations of magical power within every kernel; beneath the roots of the cassava were tiny "earth vein runes"; and those blue-colored grains were actually the legendary "Moonlight Wheat," which only grew during full moons. Consuming it could enhance night vision and dream perception.
Some sections of the land even seemed to have been individually separated into different seasonal climates.
"What an ingenious application..." Ian could not help but praise aloud.
To apply the Undetectable Extension Charm on such a massive scale while perfectly integrating it with the environment required extremely profound magical attainments and a deep understanding of spatial laws. This was far more difficult than simply expanding the interior of a tent.
"Hehe, just a little trick. I must have embarrassed myself before my guest."
An aged voice came from a nearby field.
Ian turned toward the sound and saw an elderly African man dressed in plain linen clothing. His hair was gray, his skin dark, yet his spirit was vigorous and energetic. His pant legs were rolled up, and he stood barefoot in the mud while holding a small hoe in his hand.
Beside him stood a House-elf dressed in a neat pillowcase, its large eyes filled with vigilance.
Seeing Ian's gaze, the old man smiled and explained,
"When you get old, you don't really have many hobbies left. I just like tending a bit of land and growing some grain and vegetables. Perhaps it's because I experienced famine when I was young and starved together with everyone else. Ever since then, I've had a special obsession with food."
"Opening that restaurant was also a way of fulfilling a small dream of mine, letting more people taste… unique delicacies."
His words were frank.
Carrying the calmness of someone who had weathered countless hardships.
Who knew what he had experienced in the past that made him want to share those goods from the early Soviet Union era with everyone? Perhaps, to this old man, the most delicious things he had ever tasted were the supplies smuggled over from the Soviet Union back then.
That was certainly possible.
After all, during the early days of its establishment, the Soviet Union had supported the economies of many regions in order to expand its influence. It was entirely possible that famine-stricken parts of Africa had once received such aid.
Various thoughts flashed through Ian's mind.
At that moment, however, the House-elf suddenly darted forward and positioned itself protectively in front of the old man. In a shrill and nervous voice, it shouted at Ian:
"Powerful Wizard! You are not allowed to harm my master! Dobby, no, Koffi must protect Master!"
Its large eyes were filled with determination.
Even though its body trembled slightly with fear.
The old man smiled helplessly and said to the House-elf in a gentle yet firm tone,
"Koffi, do not be rude. One must show courtesy to guests. Besides…"
He raised his head and looked deeply at Ian before slowly saying,
"The one standing before you may very well be the last Legendary Wizard of the Human Realm in this End of Dharma Age."
"We should maintain reverence."
He spoke slowly, his voice low yet carrying unquestionable authority.
Those words struck like thunder from a clear sky, causing Ian to freeze on the spot as turbulent waves surged through his heart.
The other party had actually seen through his level of strength in a single glance?!
How was that possible?!
Ian was confident that he had concealed himself extremely well. Unless someone stood at the same realm as him or possessed some special means of detection, it should have been nearly impossible to discern the depth of his power!
And clearly, the other party was not a Legendary.
Ian was absolutely certain of that.
The magical fluctuations around the old man were extremely clear, and there did not appear to be any concealment methods in use. At most, he was merely a rather capable veteran Wizard.
Any one of Hogwarts' Heads of House or Directors could defeat ten Wizards of this level.
For a Wizard of such a level, the probability of perceiving Ian's status as a Legendary Wizard should have been practically zero.
This was a matter of perspective.
An even greater truth than black folks having language barriers.
A tank might or might not have rearview mirrors, but a Wizard of this level definitely should not have been capable of recognizing the status of a Legendary, especially when Ian was actively disguising and concealing himself.
"???"
Seeing the unconcealable shock on Ian's face, the old man revealed an understanding smile. He waved his hand, signaling Koffi to step back, before explaining to Ian:
"Please do not be surprised, Mr. Ian Prince… or perhaps I should address you as Master Prince?"
"I bear no ill intent. It's simply that after you visited my little shop today and showed great interest in the cauldrons in the back kitchen, I asked my old friend Caleb about you. Caleb spoke of you with the highest admiration, and the information hidden within his words forced me to make this bold guess…"
"I hope you can forgive Caleb's loose tongue and my own presumptuous speculation."
His words were flawless.
And fairly sincere.
"So that's how it is!"
Ian suddenly understood.
It was Master Caleb!
After witnessing Ian's alchemical accomplishments and unfathomable strength, that master of magical inscription techniques had certainly shared his observations with this old friend who ran the restaurant.
Given this elder's insight and wisdom, deducing Ian's Legendary realm, while astonishing, was not entirely impossible after all.
The vigilance in Ian's heart lessened somewhat. He waved his hand, his tone returning to calmness.
"So that's the case. You overstate things. This is hardly an offense. Master Caleb is a scholar worthy of respect, and I greatly enjoyed my exchanges with him. I simply did not expect that in this distant Africa, I would encounter an elder with such sharp insight as yours."
Seeing that Ian was not angered, the old man revealed a relieved smile.
"It is good that Master Prince does not mind. This old man is Musa, merely a useless old villager who has simply lived a bit longer than most and seen a few more people and events."
"The sun outside is rather harsh. Why don't we go inside and have some tea while we talk slowly?"
"I imagine your interest in those cauldrons extends beyond merely tasting stew, does it not?"
Musa's smile carried the wisdom of someone who saw through everything.
Clearly, he had already guessed Ian's purpose for coming.
"Yes."
Ian nodded, becoming increasingly expectant of this meeting.
This seemingly ordinary restaurant owner was likely far more mysterious, and far more powerful, than he had originally imagined.
Seeing that Ian did not refuse, the old man smiled.
That smile was like sunlight breaking through after rain in the rainforest.
(End of Chapter)
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