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Chapter 186 — Sixteen-Year-Old Voldemort!!
"See? See?!" Flint laughed, smug and ugly. "Told you—threaten him with Potter and he'll come running out like a fool!"
The Slytherins around him joined in, jeering loudly at Darren.
But Darren noticed something: several students looked uneasy, even reluctant.
They didn't want to be here.
"Let me… let me handle this…"
A trembling voice spoke up.
A pale Slytherin boy stepped forward and pulled a black diary from his robes.
He sliced his palm with his wand, and blood dripped onto the cover. The diary pulsed.
As his face drained of color, a figure rose from the pages—tall, handsome, sharp-eyed.
The students dropped instantly to their knees.
"Milord!"
"Dark Lord!"
"We swear eternal loyalty!"
Sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle—young Voldemort—stood before them.
The case was solved.
Of course these students wouldn't dare confront Darren alone.
Even if they hated him, they weren't suicidal. They only acted this boldly because someone powerful stood behind them.
Voldemort.
And not even the spectral first-year version who had tried to recruit Darren before.
This was the sixteen-year-old soul fragment—the arrogant, brilliant, cruel one.
No wonder the system had given that "Tom-Riddle-attackable" reward earlier. This soul fragment was bound to appear.
The first-year Voldemort had been gentle toward Darren because of Darren's bloodline.
But this version?
He likely didn't know that.
He'd heard the Basilisk mention Darren… and assumed a new heir of Slytherin was rising.
To Voldemort, one mountain could not hold two tigers.
Darren exhaled silently.
So what does this guy want?
The forged card the system gave him must've been for cleaning up whatever chaos came next.
Tom's expression darkened when Darren didn't respond immediately. He forced a charming smile, stretched out a hand, and said:
"I want your obedience. I know who you are. And I believe you know me."
He glanced contemptuously at the kneeling students.
"These servants of mine say you and your brother defeated me last year…"
His face twisted. He didn't believe it.
But he continued coldly:
"That was weakness—temporary weakness. Stand by my side, obey me, and I won't kill you."
"Dream on."
Darren sneered.
He drew his wand, standing firm.
"My brother was never afraid of you. Why should I fear a half-formed shadow like you? Even if you were powerful—this isn't you."
[Ding! Father Value +20]
[Ding! Father Value +10]
[Ding! Father Value +10]
Only six notifications.
The others weren't moved.
Figures. I'll judge them by their actions.
Tom's transparent face twisted in fury.
"Seize him!"
The Slytherins hesitated—terror flickering—but Voldemort's presence forced them forward.
They lunged.
Darren didn't hesitate.
"Stupefy!"
"Confringo!"
"Bombarda!"
"Formicidae Lacerant!"
"Skorpio Horribilis!"
Spells burst like fireworks—violent, vicious, precise.
He cut them down like wheat.
Even the six who had hung back didn't escape.
Darren aimed at them, too.
Tom Riddle stared in open disbelief.
"Impossible… THAT is the 'stupid Darren Potter' you described?" he demanded.
These same students had complained Darren was harmless, simple, easy to bully.
A boy with enough power to dominate Slytherin but too soft-hearted to do so.
But now?
Who was this monster?
He looked more like a young Dark Lord than Voldemort himself.
"My lord—help!"
"Please, my lord!"
"He's killing us—kill him first!"
One by one, students dropped screaming to the ground, unconscious or worse.
Flint trembled so hard he could barely stand.
He thanked every star in the sky that he hadn't personally attacked Darren.
"You—you can't do this!" he stammered when Darren's cold gaze turned to him. "If the professors find out—you're finished!"
"For people like you," Darren said hoarsely, pale and shaking as if the violence sickened him, "even if I'm expelled… I won't let you go."
Flint screamed, "My lord—help!!"
Tom Riddle hesitated.
He was wary—clearly—but not afraid.
In his eyes, Darren wasn't a threat.
He was a prize.
Voldemort had been watching Darren for some time.
The more he observed, the more delighted he became.
Darren wasn't just talented.
He was handsome—almost unnaturally so—more charismatic than Tom had been in youth.
Loved by professors.
Publicly adored.
And Harry Potter's younger brother.
He was the perfect vessel.
Tom could already see it:
● He would possess Darren's body.
● Secretly unite Slytherin.
● Kill Harry quietly—through spell or poison.
● Hide in plain sight as Darren Potter.
● Rise to power again, unstoppable.
● Slaughter the Muggles without interference.
● And when he finally revealed himself, the world would see—
That the "righteous" wizarding world had embraced and praised their future Dark Lord.
Their justice would look like a joke.
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