Voldemort: I'm Watching You

"Bellatrix," Voldemort's voice was neither loud nor soft, revealing no emotion, "How is it?"

Bellatrix straightened up, but still bowed slightly, maintaining a respectful posture.

She began her report, speaking quickly, her voice slightly shrill from excitement, her body language expressive, gesturing frequently with her hands.

"The Master, the moment he came into contact with that enlightenment, it was as if he was being sucked in!"

Bellatrix's eyes lit up, as if she could see that scene in the restaurant again. "I was watching from the side, and his body trembled, his eyes immediately went blank, and his forehead was covered in sweat."

But he didn't break down, he didn't fall, he didn't shout, he just stood there, stunned, like someone who had been completely taken aback.

She took a small half-step forward, as if to emphasize what she was about to say.

"And I saw it, the Master, his face showed pain and struggle, but even more so, shock! And that greed for power! He was absolutely captivated by what was inside!"

Voldemort listened quietly, his red eyes fixed on Bellatrix's face without blinking, as if recreating the scene through her eyes.

Bellatrix continued, her tone becoming even more enthusiastic.

"The key point is that he actually managed to stay calm; he remained calm on the very first contact."

Although it took some time, I watched for about ten minutes. His face turned pale, and he was breathing heavily, but he told me his exact words—"

She cleared her throat, lowered her voice, and imitated Regulus's deliberately low and steady tone, but with a slight tremor.

"This... is this the power of that Dark Lord? Vast, profound, awe-inspiring."

After she finished learning, she chuckled to herself.

He also unconsciously uttered a few ancient syllables! I couldn't understand them, but they must be something from the Enlightenment!

The Master, he has definitely grasped the basics and is attempting to tame it! His talent is likely even greater than we anticipated!

Voldemort tapped his finger lightly on the edge of the page.

"And Orion?" His voice remained emotionless. "What's his attitude?"

Bellatrix curled her lip, her face revealing undisguised disdain.

Orion, of course, maintained his usual pretentious demeanor, uttering some polite words, such as the Black family thanking him for his high regard.

Walburga was overjoyed, hugging Regulus and laughing and crying. As for that traitor Sirius...

She gave a cold laugh and said nothing more.

Having finished her report, Bellatrix took a deep breath, a smug and devout smile spreading across her face.

"The Master, I believe that Regulus Black has fully appreciated the weight of what you have bestowed upon him and has embarked on the path we expect him to take."

His thirst for power is real, and he yearns for the greatness you have shown!

After she finished speaking, she looked at Voldemort expectantly, waiting for praise and recognition.

Voldemort remained silent for a moment.

The red eyes remained fixed on Bellatrix, the pupils slightly contracted, like a snake's eyes focusing.

Then he spoke, his voice low and cold.

"When he touched that inspiration, how did the Magic Power react? Did it struggle violently, or did it simply accept it on its own?"

Bellatrix paused for a moment.

She didn't notice that; her attention was entirely focused on Regulus's expression and physical reactions.

She vaguely remembered Magic Fluctuation, but they weren't intense; they seemed quite stable.

"It should be acceptance," she tried to recall, her tone a little uncertain, "Not intense, quite stable."

Voldemort didn't respond to this vague answer and continued asking.

Did Regulus ultimately inquire about more information regarding the Enlightenment?

A cold glint flashed in Voldemort's red eyes.

"For example, what are the control methods, what risks are involved, or does it seem like they want to make their own decisions instead of passively waiting to be accepted?"

Bellatrix shook her head.

"No, he just expressed shock and awe, and then seemed to be still immersed in that state, so he didn't ask anything else."

Voldemort asked no more questions.

He leaned back in his high-backed chair, clasped his hands over his stomach, and shifted his red eyes from Bellatrix's face to the wall behind her.

The room was eerily quiet.

Bellatrix stood there, her palms starting to sweat.

She realized that her report might not have been detailed enough, accurate enough, or fully met her the Master's requirements.

But she also felt wronged; she had already told everyone she had seen and heard, what else could she do?

Then she heard Voldemort's voice, colder than before.

"I'll see for myself."

The moment the words left her lips, Bellatrix felt as if something had forcibly pried open her brain.

It was neither gentle nor polite; it was a complete intrusion of violence.

A sharp pain exploded in my temple, spreading along the nerves to the inside of my skull, and my eyeballs felt like they were about to burst out of their sockets under the pressure.

Her body trembled violently, her knees buckled, and she almost collapsed to the ground, her fingers gripping the fabric of her robe tightly.

She was breathing rapidly, and a sound that was almost a sob was coming from her throat.

But at the same time, another feeling was also rising.

Being invaded by the Master, explored by the Master, and completely controlled by the Master —this feeling rushes into the bloodstream like the highest concentration of Felix Felicis.

Pain and pleasure intertwined and collided at her nerve endings, causing her body to convulse, her cheeks to flush an abnormal red, her eyes to half-close, her lips to part slightly, and her to exhale broken breaths.

Voldemort was going through her memories, focusing only on the small part about the restaurant in Grimmauld Place that morning.

Cola and following the updates has never been so enjoyable.

However, the way they looked through it was extremely violent.

He saw Bellatrix step out of the fireplace, saw Walburga's embrace, saw Orion's furrowed brow, and saw Sirius's look of disgust.

He saw Regulus put down his Tableware, wipe his mouth with a napkin, and look up at Bellatrix with a polite and questioning expression.

He saw the Bone Box being taken out, the temperature in the restaurant plummet, and the Silver Instruments vibrate.

He saw Regulus reach out, his fingertips touching the edge of the Bone Box, and his body jolted, his eyes losing focus.

Then comes the most crucial part: the ten minutes from the moment of contact to when you open your eyes.

Voldemort analyzes details from Bellatrix's perspective that Bellatrix either missed or couldn't understand.

As a top-tier Legilimency master, Voldemort could penetrate the mental defenses of most wizards and read the deepest details of their memories.

However, the essence of Legilimency is to extract information already stored in memory; it cannot create content that is not in memory.

Magic Fluctuation are instantaneous Magic Power phenomena, not visual images.

Bellatrix doesn't have these memories, so Voldemort can't see them either.

But Regulus noticed a detail Voldemort had overlooked in Bellatrix's behavior after he opened his eyes.

If Orion could see it, how could Voldemort not see it?

He withdrew his Legilimency.

The intrusion suddenly stopped, and Bellatrix's body went limp, collapsing to her knees.

She was breathing heavily, her forehead pressed against the back of her hand, her whole body still trembling slightly, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes watery, as if she had just gone through a strenuous exercise.

Voldemort ignored her, leaned back in his chair, and analyzed the situation in his mind.

To be able to stay calm and even grasp the concepts upon first contact is truly remarkable.

Unlike those with weak wills who were instantly crushed or driven to madness, they were not.

This shows that Regulus Black has the potential to become a powerful wizard, with a soul strength and mental resilience far exceeding those of his peers.

That's good; valuable subordinates need this quality.

However, those standard responses are too deliberate.

For a twelve-year-old, especially one raised by Orion and Walburga who is said to be unusually calm and precocious, this performance is suspiciously perfect.

It was so perfect, as if he knew exactly what the onlookers expected to see, and then he acted it out.

And Orion's silence—was it an inability to object, or a tacit acceptance?

Orion himself is no ordinary man, and his son is probably even more unusual.

But it doesn't matter.

The corruption of Dark Enlightenment is gradual and profound.

The initial performance could be a pretense, a performance, or the result of some kind of mental defense technique.

But what about the tenth time? The hundredth time?

As long as Regulus continues to engage with that enlightenment, drawn by the powerful knowledge and strength it contains, even if it was initially fake, staged, or approached with suspicion.

But over time, that knowledge will change his perception, that power will corrupt his soul, and those whispers will erode his spirit.

When he became accustomed to solving problems with Dark Arts, drawing power from pain and domination, that kind of superiority over others...

It's difficult to turn back now.

For now, we can consider it a preliminary success.

He identified Regulus Black as a highly promising candidate who required continuous observation and influence.

Voldemort looked up at Bellatrix, who was still kneeling on the ground.

She had recovered somewhat and slowly stood up, supporting herself with her hands on the ground. However, the flush of pain and pleasure on her face had not completely faded, and she looked at him with moist eyes, full of devout expectation.

"You've done well, Bellatrix." Voldemort's voice returned to its usual calm. "Regulus Black has indeed shown promising potential."

This simple compliment made Bellatrix tremble slightly again, and a bright, almost distorted smile bloomed on her face.

"It is my honor to serve my the Master." Her voice trembled, yet was full of strength.

"Keep an eye on him," Voldemort continued.

Bellatrix nodded vigorously.

"Furthermore," Voldemort changed the subject, "Keep an eye on Orion Black's every move, and at Hogwarts, see if any inappropriate glances are falling on that boy."

Bellatrix understood.

Hogwarts, Dumbledore.

"Yes, my the Master!" she said excitedly, "I will keep a close watch!"

Voldemort waved his hand, indicating that she could leave.

Bellatrix bowed deeply again, then turned around, her steps still a little unsteady.

The Study returned to silence.

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and looked out the window at the desolate garden.

Regulus Black.

An interesting child.

Will the Black family's painstakingly groomed heir face the impending cataclysmic changes in the Wizarding World?

Or was it a trap set by Dumbledore?

Or is he really just a gifted, Pure-bloods boy who craves power?

Regardless of which one it was, he accepted the gift.

The power it displays is real, and the path to power is indeed there.

As long as Regulus retains even a sliver of desire for power, he will inevitably follow the path laid out by Voldemort.

The only difference is whether he left willingly or was forced to.

Chapter 156 Voldemort: I'm watching you, there's a surprise in store. Click to unlock now.