Chapter 282: Ravenclaw's Request
Thinking further, perhaps he could even leverage the opportunity to ask someone to introduce a few personal disciples of those Imperial Chefs to work at his manor.
He could use the Space Alteration Charm to create dedicated passages for their round trips, meaning they wouldn't have to leave their home country and settle abroad. Surely that would be more acceptable?
Once he developed the potion that grants stable longevity to Muggles, these people might also become part of the population that thrives in his world.
He admitted that the food he usually cooked leaned toward the everyday. It lacked refinement, breadth, and certainly professionalism.
The mere thought of the vast array of exquisite cuisine from the East—from street food to imperial banquets, each style unique and flavorful—made Dylan swallow hard. He could almost taste those imagined flavors on his tongue.
Should I just change my nationality?
Move directly to China and eat these delicacies every day...
No, no, no. That idea was even less appropriate. Changing nationality meant re-establishing social relationships and dealing with new social obligations. The thought alone was tedious.
Getting a visa-free travel pass or something similar was more practical.
Besides, distance creates beauty. If he lived too close, the novelty of those delicacies might slowly fade with daily exposure. It was better to keep some distance and visit occasionally to fully appreciate their wonder.
Dylan figured his parents wouldn't care too much about where they settled—after all, they wouldn't truly settle anyway. They would probably be delighted to tour China endlessly, visiting every corner.
However, being unfamiliar with the place, not speaking the language, and not being wizards, they would certainly face inconvenience there.
Therefore, this matter could wait until he had successfully developed the method for Muggles to achieve longevity.
As for the Ministry of Magic later capturing Death Eaters and finding the stolen artifacts missing...
"I wonder what Voldemort would even want with these things?"
Go ask Voldemort!
If that fails, they can ask Calthus!
But what did any of that have to do with him, an honest, gentle, kind, and sunny young wizard?
However, thinking of Calthus, a persona he hadn't used for a while since being at school, the slight upward curve of his lips from contemplating cuisine uncontrollably twitched.
He had merely seen that Grindelwald possessed Herpo's manuscript and had been planning to find time to talk to the former Dark Lord while he was still alive to see if he had any other unique collections. He also wanted to see if he could invite the old Dark Lord into his world.
But who could have guessed that the future he had glimpsed through Divination just now would look the way it did...
Dylan sighed softly. Did I just dig a hole for myself?
Oh well.
Even if next year was busier, he would manage. After all, after next year, he wouldn't be staying at Hogwarts for a long time.
Dylan rubbed his brow with his fingers, trying to smooth out the plans disrupted by the sudden Divination result.
Although the Divination was quite different from his original assumptions, the major direction was unchanged.
When there was an opportunity to profit, he naturally had to seize it. When the time came for a genuine, massive conflict, he could just let Karen and the others hide in his world. He himself, while Voldemort stirred up trouble, could use the Calthus identity to quietly skim off some profits.
Furthermore, the information he had extracted from Voldemort was quite intriguing.
Other forms of Dark Magic were just inconsequential bonuses to him. It was the complete method for creating a Horcrux that truly sparked his interest.
This item turned out to be more fascinating than the "useless appendage" he had originally dismissed it as.
He previously thought an idea he had was just a wild fancy, but now it seemed there was a real possibility of success?
Dylan pursed his lips and took a small portrait out of the experiment table's drawer.
The portrait was slightly larger than his palm.
It depicted himself, holding a glass of Coke and drinking.
As soon as the portrait was taken out, the painted Dylan looked up at the real Dylan, blinking.
He then raised the glass in his hand and lightly clinked it against his true self across the canvas.
"How does it feel?" Dylan asked, his voice clear in the room, obviously addressing his painted self.
"Burp~ I can clearly feel that something is off," the painted Dylan said with a Coke-laced burp, his voice slightly muffled.
"The consciousness woven with the Extreme Dream Construct does affect the portrait, but a portrait is not the wizard himself; it doesn't even possess the wizard's soul."
"What truly makes the portrait move is the 'trace the wizard leaves on this world,' plus the magic infused by the wizard."
"Therefore, the wizard's mind inside the portrait is hard-pressed to have any substantive impact on the portrait itself..."
"But seriously, the Coke brewed from the Extreme Dream Construct tastes surprisingly authentic, and it doesn't go flat. It's much more drinkable than real Coke."
Dylan listened, thought about the existence of Ravenclaw, and slowly nodded.
"Then, do you think using a method similar to a Horcrux could make the portrait more independent?"
The painted Dylan blinked, a look of contemplation in his eyes.
"You plan to make the portrait a Horcrux?"
"A method similar to a Horcrux. I'm not trying to break the rules of life and death; I'm not that greedy," Dylan emphasized. "Just like how Ravenclaw's consciousness was able to manifest as a spirit, is it possible that the system created something like a Horcrux using her original portrait?"
Though the painted Dylan's reaction was not as quick as a real person's, he was a crucial part of the experiment.
When Dylan wove the thoughts for this portrait, he completely used his own thought patterns as a reference.
Therefore, the painted Dylan quickly understood what Dylan meant.
"Pinpoint detonation... mind... anchor point... memory... will..."
The painted Dylan mumbled to himself for a while, the words circling his lips as if he were carefully weighing their significance.
After a moment, he gave Dylan a rather strange look.
"I didn't think you'd actually figure out a way to make this idea work?"
"You think this method is feasible too?" Dylan asked, his voice laced with anticipation.
"Feasible or not, why don't you just Divinate it?" the painted Dylan rolled his eyes nonchalantly.
"That won't do. I don't have a concrete experimental plan yet."
"Besides, even if it's just to check for danger, playing it safe is necessary."
"If I relied on Divination for everything, what fun would there be in life? I might as well just collapse on the couch and immerse myself in the world of Divination forever," Dylan said with a laugh, his spirits clearly lifted after confirming that the plan was theoretically sound.
"Ah, this makes it even more urgent to go and see Mr. Grindelwald. If I go too late, I might actually miss my chance."
As Dylan thought this, the scenes of his first few encounters with the powerful, divination-savvy wizard, which he had seen during his last Divination session, vividly reappeared in his mind.
A smile full of amusement curved up the corner of his mouth at the thought of those images.
The painted Dylan saw his expression, shrugged, and took a big gulp of Coke.
"I don't really mind. Feel free to use me when you do your experiment, just don't interrupt my enjoyment."
No sooner had he spoken than he crouched down and pulled a fully loaded platter of snacks from an unpainted section of the picture frame.
It contained potato chips, corn chips, onion rings, and some other nameless crisps.
He picked up an onion ring, popped it into his mouth, and crunched happily, thoroughly enjoying his snack.
Dylan smiled at his painted self's comfortable demeanor and carefully placed the portrait back into the drawer, gently closing it.
He let out a long breath.
He mused that for the current Headmaster Dumbledore, simply visiting Grindelwald might not be safe enough.
Perhaps... add something else to the arrangement?
His fingers tapped unconsciously on the edge of the experiment table, his eyes flickering as he weighed various possibilities in his mind.
Two days later, Dylan stood quietly in his world within the small wooden hut.
The furnishings inside were simple but orderly. The experiment table was in the center, scattered with various tools and some faintly glowing magical materials.
The equipment here wasn't as advanced as the lab in the Ravenclaw Palace, but it was sufficient for Dylan's daily experiments.
After his conversation with his painted self, he focused on the instruments before him, attempting to further analyze the residual magical fluctuations on the Ravenclaw Diadem.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
"Come in."
Following Dylan's instruction, a gentle, slightly ethereal figure slowly pushed the door open.
It was Ravenclaw.
Her form flickered in a halo of light as she walked up to Dylan.
"Mr. Dylan," Ravenclaw's voice was soft yet clear.
Dylan looked up at her, pausing his work. "Headmistress, is something the matter?"
Ravenclaw leaned slightly forward, her gaze falling on the diadem near Dylan's hand.
Her eyes held a complex mix of emotions: nostalgia, reluctance, and a trace of undetectable pain.
"I've discussed many things with him recently, and it has brought back many memories—I mean, about my daughter."
"I know you've been studying this diadem, and I understand it may still be useful for your experiments. But after much thought, I still want to beg a favor of you."
Dylan looked at her. "Please, Headmistress, if you need my help with anything, I'd be happy to oblige."
She smiled softly, took a breath, and continued, "This diadem was originally a relic I left for Helena. It was only due to certain events that it ended up elsewhere."
"I've missed it and Helena all these years, but since you were the one who recovered it, I never had any other expectations."
"But now..."
Ravenclaw thought of Dylan's recent instructions for her to use the life force of some cockroaches to feed the Diary Horcrux, and also the matter of the Basilisk.
Those cockroaches were different from ordinary ones in terms of soul aura.
She also realized that her former diadem was completely devoid of the soul aura that had once resided within it.
Ravenclaw understood that Dylan had found a way to destroy the soul inside the Horcrux without harming the Horcrux itself.
Therefore, she had come to ask Dylan for one thing.
"Could I ask you to give this diadem to her? To her, it is not just a relic; it is a symbol of my lingering attachment to her."
Dylan looked at Ravenclaw's plea, which was very sincere, but he did not answer immediately.
He looked down at the diadem, his mind racing.
For him, the System tasks and related achievements had long been triggered. Its primary value now was for experimentation and the clear-headed wisdom it conferred when worn.
However, after this period of research, he was now almost able to fully strip out the diadem's special ability and store it in a dedicated container.
Once completely stripped, the diadem, devoid of its special ability, would truly become just an ordinary relic, of no great use for him to keep.
With that in mind, Dylan looked up at Ravenclaw and nodded.
"I can. Since this is your wish, and this diadem genuinely holds no significant archival value for me anymore, I will give it to Helena."
A look of gratitude instantly appeared on Ravenclaw's face.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Dylan. I truly don't know how to repay you."
"Don't mention it. Just continue to be a good housekeeper for me."
Dylan smiled, waved his hand, and returned his attention to the experiment table.
"I will give it to her at the appropriate time, don't worry."
Ravenclaw offered a few more words of thanks to Dylan before slowly exiting the wooden hut.
The small house returned to its former tranquility, leaving only the faint sounds of Dylan arranging his experimental instruments.
A moment later, Dylan packed up his things and flashed out of the wooden hut.
Outside, he greeted Ravenclaw and then exited the suitcase space.
As soon as he climbed out, he saw Harry waiting for him outside, with Ron standing nearby.
"What's wrong?" Dylan stopped, scanning Harry and Ron. Seeing that they were alone, he asked calmly.
"Dylan, it's like this..." Harry took a step forward, his face showing a mix of anxiety and hesitation. After taking a deep breath, he quickly spilled the reason for seeking Dylan out.
(End of Chapter)
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