People Who Never Show Off Are Wasting Their Youth!

Silence. Utter silence.

This meeting room contained nearly half of Europe's top wizarding talent. Many of them were even heads of various factions, and all of them had seen plenty.

Yet no one could figure out how Anton had escaped the Killing Curse unscathed.

This was the Killing Curse!

One of the Three Unforgivable Curses!

Was this some kind of joke?

Everyone's expression grew grave. They slowly retreated to the corners, warily watching Anton by the long table.

Yet even so, they still couldn't feel safe.

Surrounded by so many powerful wizarding bigwigs, they instead felt as if they were the ones being surrounded, as though they were trapped in a dark, dangerous place where disaster lurked everywhere and they could lose their lives at any moment.

The only person who could make them feel this way was the Dark Lord, Voldemort.

Oh, Albus Dumbledore came close.

The main difference was that Dumbledore wouldn't suddenly go on a killing spree without warning, the way Voldemort did.

But this child before them, this child with his shy, radiant smile, was every bit as much like the Dark Lord Voldemort.

One was cruel, the other was mad. Both had temperaments no one could predict.

Many of those present had taken part in the Ministry of Magic's trial of Anton last year. Back then, Anton had spoken eloquently about the book he'd written, "Muggles, Werewolves, and Pure-bloods," giving the impression of a scholar devoted to the study of magic.

He'd seemed a little mad, but the sort of mad that came from being crazily obsessed with magic.

It was completely different from how he felt now.

Now he gave off an intensely self-centered feeling, the sort of madness that came from doing whatever he pleased once he no longer cared about anything around