The False Wittelsbach

As a city of pivotal importance in Muggle cultural history, this ancient city had preserved many Renaissance palaces, walls, towers, and Gothic churches to this day, while rapidly advancing technology had injected it with new vitality.

Bologna, situated at a major transport hub, was also a city with formidable industrial strength. Its highly developed social welfare system allowed the local Muggles living there to fully enjoy the pleasures of life.

For an ordinary lunch, Amosta did not painstakingly choose a place to eat. He merely found a small eatery by the roadside on a quaint street steeped in culture.

After a brief exchange, Amosta waved over the waiter.

"One serving of vermicelli, one serving of fusilli, and one German grilled sausage. Hmm, if you have chopsticks here, please bring me a pair. Thank you—"

The waiter, whose brown beard was impeccably groomed, gave Amosta a slightly surprised look. As a famous tourist city, Bologna did often receive travelers from the East, but it was rare to see a Briton with such an authentic English accent asking for chopsticks.

"Please wait a moment, sir—"

The waiter did not question it. He quickly noted down the customer's special request and hurried away.

"Chopsticks?"

Louise pronounced the word awkwardly. Even as an intern reporter for the London Daily, with broader knowledge than most people, she knew what they were. She was simply a little curious why Amosta had made such a request.

"They're an excellent eating utensil. I'm more accustomed to using them when eating noodles."

Amosta spoke calmly.

"I came across them during a business trip to the East."

Louise pursed her lips and nodded lightly.

Under normal circumstances, Louise might have discussed the merits of chopsticks used by Easterners with Amosta. But right now, it was hardly an issue worth dwelling