The moment he was enveloped in the energy, Ian felt everything around him darken. Waves of pressure came from all directions, making it difficult to breathe, as if his whole body was being squeezed through a narrow tube.
He didn't know how long it lasted, but finally, he 'sprayed' out of the tube, and polluted air rushed into his lungs. After wiping away the tears that flowed uncontrollably from his eyes, Ian found himself standing in a noisy, small, shabby bar.
How should I put it? The bar was extremely dirty, with the floor and tables covered with stains. Perhaps because it was too old, some of the stains had a vague patina texture.
At the scattered tables, there sat some unkempt and greasy uncles, drinking colorful and unknown liquors.
A short man in a top hat was chatting with the bar owner who was almost bald and looked like a shriveled walnut, but the gleam in the other's eyes from time to time proved that the owner was not as ordinary as he looked.
The moment he appeared, the noisy chattering suddenly stopped, and everyone in the bar stared at him in shock.
"this..."
Ian looked at everything around him speechlessly.
In fact, it was not their fault. After Ian came to his senses, he understood their "stares". After all, although the people here were dressed a little differently, their appearance and behavior were normal. The most important thing was that there was no ruin or blood.
He looked down at his well-worn "dress", the white shirt and linen sweatpants were all torn and covered with bloodstains of varying sizes.
The mottled bloodstains have lost their original brightness due to the erosion of time, leaving only dark lavender spots.
With a thick printed paper "shield" wrapped around his left hand and a Shunlai plastic wand in his right hand, he looked like a battle-damaged version of a ghost swordsman + magician from the continent of Arad.
But with the blessing of this beauty that resembles the statues in the temple of Athens, everything reveals a kind of morbid beauty.
A long time passed, and it seemed like just a moment. The brief peace was broken, and the bar owner who had been chatting leisurely at the bar said:
"No matter what you've been through, I want to say, kid, don't be nervous, you are safe."
A pure and standard London accent attracted Ian's attention.
Looking at the bald, toothless and slightly hunchbacked boss in front of me, I felt a little relaxed.
Perhaps it was the experience of surviving alone in the apocalypse before, even if it was just for a week, but the torture of deathly silence and loneliness made Ian very eager to see other humans, even if it was just to hear their voices.
But Ian also understood that this sudden friendliness might just be due to his charming appearance and young age.
After all, with his current alternative outfit, the only thing missing is the label "outlaw" on his head.
If it were any other adult, he would have been subdued to the ground or even kicked out by now.
Half an hour later.
"London, Diagon Alley, The Leaky Cauldron...Is this what I wanted?"
After a brief exchange with the boss who called himself Tom, Ian got this information. Ian had a vague guess before, after all, the restoration of this place is almost 100% close to the original.
So when Old Tom casually waved his magic wand, conjuring a cloudy empty cup and instantly filling it with light green grass juice, Ian completely believed it.
At the same time, after he approved it, a passage of text emerged in his mind.
[After staying for 30 natural days, you will return to the original world. After returning, you will also stay for 30 natural days before starting the next journey. The time elapsed between the two worlds is 1 second: 30 days.]
[Countdown: 719 hours, 33 minutes and 12 seconds...]
"So, you don't know how you got to my bar?"
Looking at the young man who was slowly tasting the grass juice in front of him, Old Tom asked softly.
After all, as a pillar of the British wizarding world, a part-time guide, and the current patriarch of the Abbott Family, Tom is not stupid.
It's just that this boy, who looks too perfect, doesn't give him the cold, unsettling aura that dark wizards usually have. Of course, this feeling is inherent to wizards, and it has been validated for over half a century. Tom trusts his instincts, so he will offer Ian the greatest kindness.
"Yes, sir. Actually, I also want to figure out everything. What exactly caused me to come here suddenly?" Ian answered truthfully.
"Hmm... OK, I guess it might be the portkey. Although theoretically your situation is more like Apparition, but obviously you don't know this magic, otherwise you wouldn't be unclear about how you got here. But... I don't remember who could set the portkey's teleportation location in my bar, haha, magical magic..."
Old Tom clearly believed Ian's answer. After all, he had worked in the bar for more than half a century and had become skilled at observing people's words, expressions, and behavior. Over the decades, he had encountered too many people.
People of all kinds rarely escape one's notice, but the boy in front of him gave off an impression that suggested he was not deceiving him. Perhaps he truly didn't understand.
"Perhaps it's the portkey chosen by my ancestors," Tom mused. "It seems I should look through the family's collection of books when I have time."
Old Tom thought in his heart, but on the surface he still smiled calmly and said,
"Well, kid, it seems that your previous experience has exhausted you. You can drink this glass of grass juice, and then borrow my owl to write a letter to your family and contact them as soon as possible to end this unpleasant journey."
When Ian's family was mentioned, his eyes quickly moistened up as if by reflex, and his whole body was filled with a breath of sadness. This was not acting, but the last bit of emotional memory left in this body in this world, and it was also the expression of true feelings.
"Sir, maybe I don't have any family to contact. I just obeyed my mother's wishes and tried my best to live... I really don't know how I got here. I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble. I will leave here soon."
Ian has his own ideas, because money is essential for survival no matter where you are, but he happens to be penniless now, so he cherishes any opportunity to get a little help.
So it was three parts truth and seven parts testing, and he said it in a somewhat pitiful way.
"I'm sorry! Child, everyone is born different. Even if everything leaves us, the hope and will inherent in life will still guide us to move forward, just like a helmsman sailing on the sea, not swayed by the storm, always seeing the direction and finding his own destination. However, if necessary, you can stay in my bar temporarily, and we will talk about your next plan tomorrow. You look exhausted now."
Old Tom couldn't help but show a bit of sympathy on his face.
Just as described in the original book, this is a kind old man who also has great kindness towards the young wizards.
"Thank you for your generosity, sir. However, all the expenses will be considered as my debt. I will pay you back as soon as I find a job and have money." Ian replied while the iron was hot.
Old Tom didn't say anything, just smiled noncommittally, and led Ian to an inconspicuous guest room at the left corner of the second floor.
It's called a guest room, but to Ian it looked more like a storage room. The small room of only five or six square meters was filled with all kinds of old furniture. Although it was a bit shabby and small, the double windows on the right facing Diagon Alley did add a lot of value.
"Because it's the beginning of the school year, there are no extra rooms in the bar. This is the only room that's barely habitable, and the bathroom is also separate. You can wash up and have a good sleep, and then come down for dinner in the evening."
Old Tom explained slowly. In his opinion, this room which he could barely call his residence was indeed a little disappointing.
"This is already very good, sir. I am very grateful for everything you have provided. I was really exhausted before. At least here I can sleep peacefully. This is already very good, isn't it?"
After thirty years of ups and downs and the social conventions of his previous life, Ian is very clear about these things. Accustomed to the utilitarian world of adults, the purely well-intentioned help from Old Tom, who has no ulterior motive, seems extremely precious.
"Hahaha, don't worry, Old Tom's bar is very safe. There are no dirty dark wizards, let alone disgusting werewolves, so you can rest assured. If you have anything, please come downstairs to find me. If I happen to be away, you can just wait at the bar for a while. I will be back soon."
After closing the door and saying goodbye to Old Tom, Ian fell into deep thought.
"First of all, it's obvious that my golden finger has arrived. With a monthly crossing and a relatively short time of stagnation, the operability here is very high. However, the most urgent task is to take root here and figure out what this magic wand that I brought with me is."
"In one month, I will learn as many practical spells as possible that can help me survive in the apocalypse. In the end, I will earn money to buy supplies and bring them back next month. It seems that I can't escape the fate of working to earn money... Haha!"
As for whether magic could be used and whether the end of the world marked the end of the laws, Ian had never considered it at all.
Whether from the fan fiction of his past life or his research on the original work, one thing was certain: this is a world of sorcerers, and all abilities come from blood.
It's not some "borrowed power from the universe" or spiritual energy. One's own blood is the source of power. This kind of blood, which grants the ability to cast spells, is either something you have or you don't, and it has nothing to do with the external environment.
The second point is whether you can cast magic and whether you're a Muggle, but that doesn't need to be confirmed.
You have to understand that, according to the Statute of Secrecy, the Leaky Cauldron constantly casts Muggle-Repelling Charms 24 hours a day. Even if a Muggle somehow manages to enter without the company of a wizard, they will feel as if "they have something very important to do" and urgently need to leave.
And just now, Ian had been standing alone in the bar lobby for quite some time, but he hadn't felt the slightest hint of this compulsion. So, he was certain that he was not affected by the Muggle-Repelling Charm and did not belong to the Muggle world.
But whether he was a Squib still needed to be verified. However, the most important thing was to ensure his survival in the apocalypse. Survival came first.
Even if he was a Squib, as long as he humbled himself and relied on his looks to make a living in the magical world, he could still live a comfortable life during the apocalypse.