Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 413, Section 412: Never before have I been so deeply shocked.

The man struggled to open the box, and a strong chill wafted out.

Inside the box, pieces of frozen, dark-colored meat were neatly stacked.

The meat was packaged in very simple packaging, just a thick layer of yellowish grease paper, with blurry Cyrillic script and dates printed on it.

"?????? Are they trying to trick me into thinking I'm Japanese?" Ian had excellent eyesight; even from a distance, he could make out one of the dates—1923.

Ian's satisfied smile froze instantly, his mind going blank. 1923? A symbol of the Soviet era? Frozen meat? Combined with the unusually soft yet uniquely flavorful texture... a word that made his stomach churn suddenly popped into his head—zombie meat?!
This isn't your average zombie meat.

It's the king of zombie meat!
In this day and age, the Soviet Union is only a few decades away from its collapse, yet the meat sold in this local restaurant is still from the early days of the Soviet Union!
Wizards do the things that Muggle capitalists do too!

This meat may have been stored for decades, kept from spoilage by ultra-low temperatures, but its nutritional value and safety have long been reduced, and it may even contain harmful substances!

"Damn it! A magical world version of Sibe!" Ian felt as if the delicious broth he had just eaten had turned into a heavy block of ice, stuck in his stomach. He had even used alchemical tools to test the inn's food, but he never expected to be stumped by a "historical problem" from the Muggle world in this magical world market!

He watched as the waiter brought out another box of frozen meat of the same style. The proprietress skillfully took it and began to defrost it to prepare ingredients for dinner.

Everyone was confused.

Ian Prince felt as if a dozen Billywig worms were churning in his stomach. He stared intently at the rusty metal box that the waiter had carried out, and the frozen, hard chunks of meat inside, their wrappers clearly marked with "1923," his mind blank.

"This meat is older than my grandmother!" Ian muttered to himself, his face quickly turning from a satisfied rosy glow to an incredulous paleness. He quickly did some mental calculations and realized that his grandmother, whom he had never met, might not have been born during the period when this meat was stored.

what is this?
A handsome young man from the future.

Did he end up eating a zombie king who was older than his grandmother?

I just ate a bowl of "historical artifact" with great relish!
A strong feeling of nausea welled up in his throat, and he quickly drank a large gulp of water to suppress it. He looked around and saw that the other diners in the shop were still eating with great enthusiasm, ignoring the waiter's actions of moving the "antique meat". There were even new customers coming in, ordering the same meat soup as if they knew it well.

No one cares.

Everyone is eating and connecting with each other.

“I heard that ‘Raytooth’ shop has received another batch of AK-47s,” a wizard whispered. “The Centaur Legion has ordered fifty, each engraved with ‘armor-piercing’ runes.”

“Tch, if they can buy, we can sell,” another sneered. “I’ve already contacted the ‘Fire Serpent’ tribe. They’re offering three times the price for rocket launchers, specifically for attacking centaur camps.”

“Three wizards died in Ghost Valley last month,” an old woman interjected. “They were supposedly scared to death by the ‘Ground Bats,’ and there weren’t even any wounds on their bodies.”

“Serves them right,” someone nearby scoffed. “Who told them to touch the ‘Ancestral Spirit Seal’? Even the Ministry of Magic wouldn’t dare to go into that place easily.”

“My cousin works at the Silent Tower,” a young man said mysteriously. “He said they recently caught a white wizard who was carrying a big box full of strange birds and flying snakes…”

The air was filled with the sounds of satisfied chewing and conversation. Ian's ears perked up—wasn't that Newt? Of course, he wasn't in the mood to care about the professor right now.

The fact that the people here so readily accept eating zombie meat is somewhat shocking to Ian.

"No way!!!" Ian's expression was incredibly interesting, his lips twitching slightly. "They've gotten used to this? Is it possible that resources are so scarce in Africa that even this... this kind of 'aged wine' has become commonplace? No wonder these shop assistants don't even bother to hide it!"

"The guests don't care at all!"

Just as he was internally ranting, the guy and another burly man carried in several more old-looking wooden crates, some even with rotten edges, through the back door.

Out of the corner of Ian's eye, he noticed that the seal on one of the wooden crates clearly read—1893!

"?????"

This looks even more outrageous.

"Pfft—" Ian nearly spat out the water he had just drunk. 1893?! That's an ancient relic from the Victorian era!

Is this shop located inside a history museum?!
He finally couldn't hold back any longer. He stood up abruptly, walked a few steps to the waiter who had just put down the box, and, suppressing his anger, asked in as calm but accusatory a tone as possible, "You... you feed your customers this kind of thing? This... this meat has been sitting around for who knows how many years?"

The man was taken aback at first, somewhat bewildered by Ian's sudden action and slightly agitated emotions. But after looking Ian up and down, especially noticing his obvious foreign appearance and clothing, a look of realization immediately appeared on his face: "Oh, I see. No wonder he was making such a fuss."

Far from being alarmed or ashamed, the waiter explained in a somewhat proud tone, using broken English mixed with local dialect: "Honorable guest, you must be from out of town. Don't worry! Our shop has a unique, family-inherited technique that can make this meat taste just as good as freshly slaughtered!"

"Quality and freshness are both excellent! Look how much everyone is enjoying their food!" he said, pointing to the customers around him who showed no reaction whatsoever.

It seems that this is the norm.

"..." Upon hearing this, Ian's expression went beyond speechlessness; he was practically stunned. A unique skill? Making zombie meat from over a hundred years ago look like fresh meat? Is this magic or witchcraft? No, this is supposed to be the magical world... but this is just too outrageous!
He couldn't help but blurt out, "Have you guys added some technology and ruthless techniques? Don't tell me you don't even have a proper cook in your kitchen, or even an open-flame stove! If you do, I'll start to doubt whether your 'culinary skills' will be passed down through generations and whether you'll have to rely on these old men to last a hundred years!"

Ian loved eating at that pre-prepared food restaurant before he traveled through time, and suffered greatly from it, so he still remembers it vividly. When he encountered a similar situation again, he immediately thought of that restaurant.

"Um... I don't quite understand what you mean?" The waiter clearly didn't fully grasp Ian's complaints, especially the words "technology and grueling work." But seeing Ian glancing suspiciously towards the kitchen as he spoke, he roughly understood that the other man didn't believe him and wanted to see for himself.

The waiter's eyes darted around, and instead of stopping him, he gave him a warm smile, stepped aside, and gestured for him to proceed.

"If guests don't believe it, they can come to our kitchen and see for themselves! Our cooking is absolutely clean and transparent!" This is an attitude that can only be expressed when one has absolute confidence in their own business.

But maybe.

After all, some former bosses had done similar things before, which was really just a case of misplaced confidence. Looking at the waiter's nonchalant smile, Ian became even more suspicious. Letting someone into the kitchen so readily? Could there be some kind of trap? Like, maybe they'll just give me a good whack as soon as I walk in, and then throw me, this "fresh ingredient," into that 1893 box?
However, this thought only flashed through his mind. With his strength, he wasn't afraid of such petty tricks. Driven more by intense curiosity, he wanted to see what these people were up to! Could there really be some kind of magical power that could reverse time and give zombie flesh a second life?

Even Ian, a legendary wizard, found this technique somewhat unbelievable. After all, to accomplish something like this, he would need to use his extraordinary shapeshifting abilities.

Not everyone possesses the extraordinary qualities of his Transfiguration.

“Okay, then I’ll take a look around.” Ian nodded and followed the waiter to the kitchen. Passing through a doorway with a dirty curtain hanging down, the kitchen came into view. To Ian’s surprise, it wasn’t as greasy, dirty, or infested with cockroaches as he had imagined.

On the contrary, although the light was not particularly bright, with only a few floating magical orbs providing illumination, the kitchen was generally clean and tidy.

It's at least much cleaner than many of the takeout shops Ian visited before his time travel—well, you really can only know how dirty a takeout shop can be by visiting those places.

Closer to home.

Other parts of Africa may be dirty and chaotic, but they are certainly much better than India, and the hygiene conditions in the wizarding world have always been far superior to those of Muggles.

Therefore.

This small shop's kitchen probably surpasses that of over 80% of restaurants. The walls are solid earthen walls, the floor is paved with stone slabs, and all kinds of kitchen utensils are neatly arranged. However, what surprised Ian the most was that he didn't see a traditional stove, fire pit, or busy chefs cooking.

Instead, three crucibles of different sizes were placed side by side in the center of the kitchen!
That's right, they're the kind of cauldrons wizards often use to brew potions! Only these three cauldrons look much heavier and more ancient, seemingly made of some kind of alloy of black iron and bronze, their surfaces covered with complex, faintly glowing magical runes. There's no firewood or gas burning beneath them.

Instead, a magic circle embedded in the floor provides a stable source of heat.

"Cooking with potions?" Ian understood why he thought it tasted good; potion masters definitely had a better grasp of heat, temperature, and the properties of food than chefs.

but.

He still felt that zombie meat was too zombie-like, and even if it was processed by boiling magic potions, it would not change the fact that it was zombie meat.

"I'd like to see what your secret recipe is."

Ian stared intently at the direction.

Three people dressed in grey wizard robes, rather than chef's uniforms, were each guarding a cauldron. In their hands, instead of spatulas, were long stirring rods, also covered in runes, slowly and attentively stirring the thick liquid bubbling in the cauldrons with a specific rhythm and trajectory.

Ian's gaze fell upon one of the cauldrons in use. There, the piece of frozen, hard, dark-colored old meat, marked "1893," which the worker had just brought in, was casually tossed into the boiling cauldron by a wizard. What happened next made Ian's eyes widen.

"what's the situation?"

There was already some water in the pot, which looked like clear water, but it emitted a faint magical fluctuation. After the piece of old meat was put into the pot, it did not need to be stewed for a long time to soften like ordinary meat.

It underwent a strange change in an instant.

The meat began to change at a visible speed—its dark color faded rapidly, turning bright red; the shriveled and dried-up flesh expanded as if inflated, regaining its plump elasticity; it even faintly emitted a kind of... faint bloody scent, similar to that of freshly slaughtered meat!
In just over ten seconds, that piece of old meat that looked like a historical specimen actually turned out to be no different from a piece of fine fresh beef!
Then, the wizard retrieved it from the water, placed it on a cutting board, and began to chop and process it. At that moment, Ian understood completely. It wasn't some "unique skill," nor some "technology and ruthless work," but magic! It was alchemy! A field he had never explored before!

The key to the problem lies in those magical crucibles! They are not ordinary cooking utensils at all, but some kind of specially made, powerful alchemical artifacts! Their function is likely to reverse or neutralize the effects of time on objects, or more accurately, to temporarily restore substances to an earlier, "fresher" state!
Because it has not been studied up close.

Ian could only speculate.

Those complex runes must be controlling and guiding this magic that reverses time! The shopkeeper's so-called "ancestral craftsmanship" probably refers to how to properly operate and maintain these alchemical crucibles, as well as mastering the rhythm of stirring and the input of magic power to ensure the safety and effectiveness of the "reduction" process!
“No wonder…no wonder they dare to use zombie meat so blatantly…” Ian muttered to himself, his nausea dissipating considerably, replaced by amazement at the wondrous application of magic. “This is simply using alchemy in unexpected ways…Although it sounds a bit strange, from a magical perspective, meat treated in this way might really not be any different from fresh meat.”

"Perhaps it even has a unique flavor because of its 'old age'?" Ian thought of the texture of the meat. Clearly, this kind of technique still has some flaws.

But there might be some people who love the taste caused by this defect—he remembered that there were more children and the elderly eating out before.

Heaven knows if these people came specifically for that taste. He looked at the three focused "wizard chefs," then back at the satisfied customers in the restaurant, and suddenly realized how truly bizarre the world was. Using a priceless alchemical cauldron to "preserve" century-old zombie meat.

This is probably a unique feature of the African magical world... right?

At least in terms of food safety, this restaurant seems more reliable than many seemingly clean, upscale restaurants? Ian thought with mixed feelings.

This is actually a form of self-comfort.

but.

Compared to what he had already consumed, Ian was now more interested in this technology, believing it would greatly benefit his alchemical skills.

The current problem is how to acquire these technologies that are considered core technologies.

Ian stared at the shop assistant.

He knew, of course, that the shop assistant couldn't make such a decision, but after looking around, he still couldn't find the shop owner. Perhaps he would need to make some inquiries.

Think of this.

Ian's hand naturally reached for the robe.

Ready to unleash the power of money.

(End of this chapter)