"Albert Anderson?"
Voldemort was not riding a Flying Broom. He flew with the wind like smoke.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze piercing the darkness ahead as he fixed it on the Mudblood he despised. His lipless mouth twitched faintly, and his voice carried over the roaring waves to Albert's ears.
"Good evening, Tom."
Holding his broom in one hand, Albert turned back to greet Voldemort as though they were old friends who had not met for a long time.
"It's truly unpleasant to see you, but I have to admit that you've attained a high level of mastery in magic. Have you considered finding someone to inherit the knowledge in your head?"
If possible, Albert would very much have liked to inherit Voldemort's estate after his death.
There was no helping it. Picking up ready-made gains was simply too tempting.
Whether it was from the Wildsmith Family, the LeMay Couple, or Dumbledore, who had only recently died, Albert had inherited an enviable legacy from each of them. That was also one of the keys to his rapid growth and rise in such a short time.
As for the famous Second Generation Dark Lord before him, Albert did not expect him to truly leave his inheritance behind for him.
Although Albert had already inherited part of it in advance, he still wanted the knowledge Voldemort had researched outside of Dark Magic.
Honestly, nothing made one rich faster than looting a boss.
Ahem. He was not some bandit. It was all so that those precious pieces of knowledge could be preserved.
That was undoubtedly quite difficult, but Albert had yet to give up. He had the panel, after all, and had once obtained valuable spellcasting techniques from Voldemort.
"How dare you!"
Upon hearing Albert actually call him by the name