1: Diviner, Ian Prince

1: Diviner, Ian Prince

London. Fog. Thick fog.

In weather so smoggy one could barely see one's hand in front of one's face, a Little Boy was packing up his stall beside a desolate road on a London street, preparing to head home early.

He wore a black hat and a black trench coat, naturally drawing people's attention to his face. They would see his high nose, perfectly curved lips, and the utterly charming smile that played on them. It had to be said that he was the kind of boy who could easily win the favor of women.

Especially older women.

Just as the boy was preparing to leave—

"Little diviner, do you still have time?"

Someone spoke softly behind him.

Ian Prince turned around.

Reflected in his green Eyes was a refined lady wearing a blue plaid high-neck dress, with an adorable brown-haired girl standing beside her.

The girl's hair was fluffy like a bird's nest.

"Of course. Destiny granted me an extra moment here, clearly so I could wait for this very moment." Ian Prince immediately slipped into character and began business.

His practiced sales pitch was far too mature for a child. "Every divination is a revelation of the future. If you do not mind, Madam, could you tell me your honored name?"

"You may call me Mrs. Granger." Looking at Ian Prince's exquisitely sculpted face, Mrs. Granger found the Little Boy exceptionally adorable.

It had to be said.

Those blessed with good looks could always more easily earn a Good impression. Ian could win the hearts of countless young girls through appearance alone, let alone an auntie at the level of the young married woman before him.

"Very well, Mrs. Granger. What would you like to divine?"

Ian smiled as he rearranged the tools of his trade.

"Of course, it's about..." Mrs. Granger was about to speak when the little girl beside her looked deeply resistant. She shook off her mother's hand and rushed to Ian's small table.

"Don't even think about using these tricks to deceive us! This is nothing more than a con using applied psychology! There is no such thing as divination or magic in this world!"

"Behind every mysterious method lies a magic trick, misdirection, or fraud. Science made its judgment long ago. Perhaps you should read The Lies of the Middle Ages."

Though she was a delicate-looking little girl, she insisted on putting on a fierce expression. She looked both adorable and adorably ferocious. Her mother's expression changed, and she was about to step forward and scold her.

Ian raised a hand to stop Mrs. Granger.

"A very good suggestion. I have one for you as well: New Principles of Numerology is a good book. Perhaps you should give it a read."

Ian was not angered by the little girl's doubts. Instead, he cheerfully went along with her. His response made her feel as though she had punched cotton, leaving her stifled with frustration.

Her doll-like little face immediately turned much redder with anger.

"There is no magic in this world!"

The little girl stressed it once again.

"What if there is?"

Ian tilted his head as he looked at the little girl, who was a little shorter than him.

"Then I'll eat your table."

The little girl spoke with absolute certainty.

"Oh, all right, Miss Hermione Granger. I'll remember those words. People who break their promises grow up bald." Ian looked exceptionally pleased as he smiled.

"How do you know my name?!"

The little girl—

Hermione Granger—was startled out of her wits. She hurriedly turned back to look at her mother in panic, while Mrs. Granger stared at Ian in equal astonishment.

"May we begin, Mrs. Granger?"

Maintaining his mysterious bearing, Ian shuffled the tarot cards in his hand before drawing out four and placing them separately on the table. He had never enjoyed showing off so much when running his divination stall before.

Just look at the little girl.

She was so frightened that she had hidden in her mother's arms.

"You must have pulled some kind of trick. Don't believe him, Mum." Hermione Granger still appeared to firmly believe in materialism, but she no longer dared approach the diviner who had called out her name at once.

"We need a divination, Mr. Diviner."

Mrs. Granger's Eyes had lit up. She did not care what Hermione Granger was saying, and her tone was far more serious and earnest than before.

Ian ignored Hermione Granger's glare.

He gestured for Mrs. Granger to choose a tarot card.

Mrs. Granger immediately made her selection. Looking at the tarot card she had turned over on the table, Ian raised an eyebrow and gave Mrs. Granger a small smile.

"It is the Fool, Madam."

At those words—

Though Hermione still looked disgruntled, her Ears pricked up.

Mrs. Granger clasped her hands together, Full of anticipation.

"Mr. Diviner, what does that foretell?"

Ian cupped his hands and gestured. "That depends on you, Madam. May I ask what you were thinking about when you turned over this card?"

Mrs. Granger nodded, looking as though she had expected this.

"I wanted to ask whether, a year from now, my Hermione will be able to get into her ideal secondary school." Most parents in the world naturally thought most about their children.

Ian encountered this sort of situation often.

However.

He still put on an enlightened expression.

"So you wished to divine your daughter's future."

Ian's tone of surprise was lifelike.

"Yes, little Mr. Diviner. Can you tell me the result?" As Mrs. Granger spoke, she took five pounds from her handbag and handed them to Ian.

Ian smiled faintly, his gaze falling on Hermione.

At that moment, the little girl also seemed somewhat curious as she looked at Ian. Yet when she met his gaze, she immediately turned away, refusing to look at him.

As though she wanted to show just how little she cared.

However.

From the small movements of her Eyes, which kept darting over for furtive glances, it was not hard to see that she remained quite curious about the result of the divination.

Saying one thing and meaning another.

But that was perfectly understandable.

After all, she was a future Witch, one of the original trio. Born to a Muggle family yet possessing a wizard's talent herself, she naturally had the instinctive wizardly nature of loving to explore the unknown.

"Of course, no problem." Ian Prince wore a gentle smile as he picked up the Fool tarot card from the table and slowly spoke to Mrs. Granger.

"This represents a new beginning and an adventure."

"After next year, your daughter will enter the school best suited to her. In the future, she will achieve extraordinary accomplishments and become a high-ranking official surrounded by admirers."

Ian had been running his stall for quite some time, but never had his tone been so certain.

Mrs. Granger immediately beamed from ear to ear, clearly delighted.

Hermione merely curled her lips and said nothing.

Yet from the slightly raised Corner of the Mouth, it was still possible to tell that she was in a very good mood.

"Thank you, little Mr. Diviner. Then we'll be taking our leave." Having received an answer she was satisfied with, Mrs. Granger smiled brightly and waved goodbye to Ian.

Hermione beside her impatiently tugged her mother away.

After they had taken only a few steps.

She could not help turning back and making an adorably fierce face at Ian. Looking at the Fool tarot card in his hand, Ian mischievously raised his voice a little.

"Oh, right. In the future, she'll also have two fine sons."

Hearing that, Mrs. Granger turned back in surprise. Raising an eyebrow, she replied with a smile, "Wow. Actually, I think two Children might still be a little too few."

"I'm never having Children!"

Hermione's face turned scarlet.

Mrs. Granger stroked her head.

Ian said nothing more and gave a slight bow.

"Please visit again, Mrs. Granger."

His voice was gentle.

"Thank you, little Mr. Diviner."

Mrs. Granger left with Hermione. Ian also began packing away his stall to return home when he faintly heard Hermione's irritated voice.

"Mum, divination isn't scientific at all! He must have overheard us talking and learned my name that way. People like him only know how to sweet-talk others!"

At that moment.

Mrs. Granger merely stroked Hermione's head. "Oh, Hermione, why care so much? It was only five pounds. It means nothing to us, but for that child, it can buy him a full meal. If circumstances allowed, what child your age would come out onto the streets to earn a living?"

"His clothes are covered in patches. He's such a pitiful child..."

Their voices gradually faded away.

Only then did Ian lower his head and look at his clothes.

They were indeed rather worn.

This was actually clothing donated by a kind person only last year. Every year, Ian received donated clothes from kind people, but after Lucky had clawed at them a few times in the Orphanage, they became what they were now.

Lucky was a cat, the only pet companion the orphans had in that square, gloomy, ancient Orphanage. In truth, it was merely a stray cat that had wandered there and then refused to leave.

"Another pretty good day."

Ian Prince packed up his stall. He had earned around ten pounds today, which was absolutely a respectable income for a child.

Of course.

To earn that much.

Ian naturally had something unusual about him.

Name: Ian Prince

Class: Bloodline Sorcerer

Magic Power: Level 4

Skills: Language Mastery (Level 3): 23/400

Biology Dissection (Level 4): 796/800

Free Fighting (Level 3): 85/400

Psychology (Level 6): 42/3200

Psychology Extraordinary Trait: Mind Perception.

...

That was right.

Ian possessed an Attribute Panel. There were no system quests, nor was there any cute system sprite. It was simply a panel that gave him the trait of becoming stronger through Hard Work.

Very simple.

But also very practical.

As long as Hard Work yielded visible rewards, it was sufficiently positive encouragement for most people. Not to mention that leveling up skills also brought Ian additional benefits—Extraordinary Traits.

An Extraordinary Trait was a certain additional bonus gained once a skill reached level five. It granted Ian some powerful traits derived from that skill.

And if a skill could be grinded up to level ten, it would also grant an even stronger Legendary Trait. However, Ian had yet to successfully grind any skill to level ten.

Proficiency was not so easy to acquire. Today, for example, he had only gained five points of Psychology proficiency. To level it up, he would have to fool more than three thousand people.

Well.

Perhaps it could not be called fooling them.

How was providing emotional value not a form of effort?

It was precisely through Mind Perception that Ian read what many Customers were thinking, allowing his divination business to flourish and earn him a modest reputation in this neighborhood.

"A small cheat is not really a cheat."

Ian gave his golden finger an assessment and returned to the Orphanage with his equipment. After all, for a transmigrator, a classic opening was practically standard.

"Hey, Ian, wait! Don't go back in yet."

"Santa Claus is here!"

After Ian pushed his little cart back to the run-down Orphanage.

A group of Children surrounded him.

And Ian caught sight of a figure passing by ahead.

"Nonsense. That's clearly Gandalf."

Ian corrected the child.

At that moment.

His feelings were extremely complicated.

He had been waiting for this day.

But.

He had not expected it to come so quickly, nor had he expected the person to be—Albus Dumbledore.

Watching the white-bearded old man walk into the headmistress's office.

Ian Prince felt somewhat puzzled.

Strange.

Didn't Hogwarts first send an owl by mail, then dispatch a professor to explain things in person?