Now Allen can directly pass through walls. The most important part is that, in this state, Allen becomes immune to all physical attacks. As for magic attacks, Allen hasn't tested them yet, so he isn't sure how his body interacts with magic when he activates his ability to phase through matter. Would spells still hit him?
After all, he couldn't very well cast magic at himself to find out.
Activating the Material Shuttle skill consumes magic power. The faster something passes through him, the more magic it consumes. If the object contains magic itself, the cost increases exponentially.
Allen discovered this while experimenting with his own wand. A fourteen-inch wand, moving slowly through the palm of his hand, drained more magic power than walking through a solid wall.
This suggests that the Material Shuttle might provide some resistance to magic, but the effect is far from ideal. Allen wouldn't last long if bombarded by spells—he'd run out of magic quickly. It's still much more efficient to avoid magic attacks entirely.
Once the enhancement process was finished, Allen sat cross-legged on his bed and emptied out all his savings.
Gold coins and silver coins glinted under the light, while the less-attractive copper coins were scattered throughout.
This was the entirety of Allen's on-hand cash. At present, he had one hundred Galleons, ten Sickles, and twenty-eight Knuts left.
Then Allen retrieved his daily earnings—Tom had sent them over earlier. These were his profits from selling his signature magical dishes.
Rather than collecting a handful of coins every day, Allen preferred to deposit small amounts over time and withdraw them in bulk when the total became substantial. Once the savings reached a certain threshold, he would collect the entire sum from Tom in one go.
Now, Allen's total savings had reached three hundred Galleons, ten Sickles, and twenty-eight Knuts. None of his dishes sold for less than a Galleon, meaning all his income came in the form of gold coins—not silver or copper.
Thanks to Tom's Kitchen, Allen didn't need to pay for his three daily meals and could earn from his culinary skills. His business model—buying ingredients low and selling magical dishes high—had finally reversed his shrinking savings. His wealth was steadily increasing.
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Oh, and of course, thanks to his loyal fans for their support.
"I'm not buying dragon liver today," Allen muttered to himself. "I'll wait until the price stabilizes. As for biting cabbage... I've used that for three days in a row. No matter how good something tastes, it gets old eventually. Plus, the price is going up..."
Allen rested his elbows on his knees, cupping his chin in his hands. After a moment's thought, he decided to go out, buy some new clothes, and search for new ingredients.
He didn't want to limit himself to just a few types of ingredients. He was a man with a dream—to taste every magical creature in existence!
So, today would be a rare day off! Unfortunately, that meant disappointing the fans who eagerly awaited his dishes.
"Uncle Tom, please let everyone know—there'll be no special dishes today."
Allen descended the stairs, his expression grim, and promptly delivered the bad news to Tom.
"Ah?" Tom looked stunned, and the wizards already waiting in the tavern let out groans of despair.
"No way! I've been counting on your stuttering roast to prolong my life!" wailed one loyal fan.
"We refuse to accept a day off! We want food!" someone else shouted.
One particularly stubborn guest demanded, "Get back in the kitchen right now, or I'll kneel down and beg!"
But Allen was unmoved.
"Sorry, everyone. I need rest too." His tone was perfunctory as he headed for the Leaky Cauldron's back door, planning to enter Diagon Alley.
Just then, someone rushed over and blocked his path.
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"Please wait, Mr. Cecil!" The man's voice was urgent. It was Hodge, one of Allen's more enthusiastic fans.
Allen glanced at him and said in a practiced tone, "I'm not looking to become anyone's private chef, and I'm not taking offers at the moment. Any other questions?"
Over the past few days, many had approached Allen with offers to become their personal cook. Every suitor was either wealthy or noble. One time, a house-elf wrapped in expensive silk even came to negotiate terms with him.
The offers were incredibly generous: full sponsorship to complete his education at Hogwarts, guaranteed employment afterward, full room and board, unlimited ingredients—and even a wife. Allen couldn't help but feel these offers were a bit too generous.
He turned them all down.
Sure, such opportunities would allow him to experiment with a wide range of magical creatures and plants. He'd get to taste countless new dishes.
But Allen valued his freedom more than luxury. Something about these offers felt off—especially the parts about providing him with a wife. Was someone after more than just his cooking?
"You misunderstand, Mr. Cecil," Hodge said quickly. He knew Allen's rejection style by now: always polite, but with a firm finality. "I'm not here to hire you as a private chef. I'm actually here to propose a business deal."
"Business?" Allen raised an eyebrow. "Now that's interesting. Go on."
"I love your rock sugar-biting cabbage," Hodge began enthusiastically. "I'd like to purchase the recipe from you—to mass-produce the candy version."
He continued with a proud smile, "I'm actually a manufacturer of magical candy. There are only a few producers of truly unique magical sweets out there. I currently supply over ninety percent of the magical candy market."
"Wow, sounds like you're doing well for yourself, Mr. Hodge," Allen replied with interest. "Let me be direct—do you want the version of the candy that's enhanced with magic, or just the regular delicious kind?"
"This... Well, the enhanced version would be better, of course," Hodge admitted. "But I'd still be happy with the regular one."
He was clearly sincere.
P.S. There's a mistake in Chapter 26—the expenses were counted, but the income wasn't. The daily profit was set too low. Asking the editor to fix it would be a hassle, so I'll just adjust things myself. It might not be perfect, but at least it makes logical sense now. Sorry for the oversight.
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