Young Voldemort's black-jade hair swayed a few times before drooping a little lower. He sat quietly beside Allen, as if nothing had just happened, but the turmoil inside him was the complete opposite of his calm exterior—up close, the gap between his twenty-something self and the even younger Allen Harris was greater than he had imagined.
Hidden beneath his wizard robes, Voldemort clenched his long, slender fingers, the veins standing out from unwillingness and humiliation. The humiliation before him made his eyes burn and his heart feel as if it were on fire. At last, he calmed down, just as he had when Dumbledore refused his application for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. "Headmaster Harris, call me Voldemort... Let's be direct. Which country do you want to liven up? Germany, the United States, or Bulgaria? My men and I will no longer remain silent. We can launch attacks at any time."
"Tom, you really are smarter at this age than you'll be in the future, but you're a little too smart." Allen crossed his legs indifferently, his voice flat. "But have you considered this? Originally, after I let you come back to life, whatever you did had nothing to do with me. But now that you put it that way... wouldn't that make me the mastermind and the villain? Wouldn't the people you harmed become people I harmed?"
Stan, the guard who now knew why his young master had been able to revive, did not dare say a word. The young Dark Lord's eyes, glowing faintly red at that moment, reminded him of the older Dark Lord. He was very worried that after witnessing the other man in such an awkward position, he probably would not come off well afterward. What frightened him even more was