The International Wizarding Federation's high bounty on Voldemort had indeed brought Britain no small amount of trouble. But the bounty had also served its intended purpose. It had drawn not only Dark wizards, but also professional Bounty Hunters from various countries who made their living hunting Dark wizards.
As long as bounty notices had any reason to exist, there would naturally be wizards who made a living from them.
What was more, this was a High bounty backed by the International Wizarding Federation. After Albert's deft maneuvering, the reward had tripled outright. Countless Bounty Hunters were practically drooling over it.
Especially since this Dark Lord was currently only well known in Europe—or rather, in Britain—so Bounty Hunters eager to take his head in exchange for the reward came swarming in.
The first group of Bounty Hunters to obtain intelligence from the International Wizarding Federation and strike at Voldemort ahead of everyone else had died rather horribly.
Voldemort was exceptionally enraged by the damned attack. Especially after learning from one bounty hunter's memories that some bastard had been providing the group with his exact location, he was beside himself with fury.
Just how had his location been exposed? Did that Mudblood truly have some way to accurately divine his whereabouts? Or was there a traitor among the Death Eaters?
That was not impossible, but most Death Eaters had no idea where he was.
It was not as though Voldemort had not suspected his right-hand men, but the possibility was extremely low. He simply could not find a reason for them to do such a thing.
After all, Yaxley and Snape had both gained enormous benefits by pledging themselves to him. There was no way they would easily give up what they had to betray him.
It was hardly strange for Voldemort