Chapter 62 The Rose and the Snake 2
Abraxas raised a cold arc at the corner of his mouth, and slowly adjusted the silver buttons on his cuffs, with undisguised mockery in his tone.
"Boyfriend?"
The smugness on Clarisse's face froze instantly, as if she had been splashed with a basin of ice water. Her blue eyes widened, filled with disbelief and absurdity.
"Who? Where did your boyfriend come from? Brother-in-law! What are you talking about?!"
Abraxas didn't answer her foolish question.
He simply leaned forward slightly, his cold breath brushing across her instantly pale cheek, and whispered in a voice as sharp as a venomous snake's tongue that only the two of them could hear.
"Of course... Lord Voldemort."
"boom--!"
It was like a silent thunder exploded in Clarice's mind!
Voldemort? The Dark Lord whose rise to power was swift, whose methods were cruel and mysterious, and who had silenced the entire wizarding world?
Abraxas's...boyfriend? How is that even possible?!
This is absolutely ridiculous!
It was the most outrageous lie Abraxas had made up to get rid of her!
She stumbled back a step, bumped into the railing of the box, and almost dropped the memory bottle in her hand.
Tremendous fear and anger at being deceived instantly overwhelmed her.
"You...you lied! In order to get rid of me, you dared to blaspheme the name of the Dark Lord! Abraxas Malfoy, you are finished! You are completely finished!"
She screamed, her voice distorted by extreme emotion.
Downstairs, the auctioneer's gavel slammed down with a thud. "Forty-five thousand Galleons! Deal! Congratulations to the lady in box 37!"
But at this moment, almost no one paid attention to the bottle of expensive dragon blood.
Countless eyes, filled with surprise, inquiry, and gloating, were focused on the Malfoy box on the second floor where the bead curtain had been lifted and the atmosphere was tense.
Abraxas no longer looked at her.
He straightened his back and adjusted his collar, which had been torn by himself, as if the earth-shattering words he had just said had only brushed away a speck of dust.
Deep in his gray-blue eyes, a trace of fatigue and... a deeper uneasiness flashed across his face, which he himself had not even noticed. It was caused by a desperate gamble.
The moment he finished speaking, a cold, emotionless mechanical voice sounded without warning in the depths of his mind, as clear as someone whispering in his ear:
[Keywords detected: 'Voldemort', 'boyfriend'.]
【Meet the emergency binding conditions of 'Villain Lover'. 】
[System 'Hermes' activated... Scanning host: Abraxas Orion Malfoy... Identity confirmed.]
[Bind the capture target: Tom Marvolo Riddle (Codename: Voldemort)... Bind successfully! ]
Newbie Mission: Within 24 hours, send a bouquet of fresh red roses to your capture target, with the message: 'You are the only starlight in my darkness.' Penalty for mission failure: Experience the agonizing pain of 'heart-wrenching' pain (compensatory version). Happy capturing!
Abraxas's body swayed slightly, and his fingertips turned cold instantly.
What? System? Binding? Target... Voldemort? Mission? Cruciatus?! A string of bizarre information pierced his mind like an icicle, leaving him dizzy.
He could even "see" a cold, translucent panel emitting a faint blue glow suspended in the depths of his consciousness. It clearly displayed the mission details and a countdown - 23:59:48...
In another secret mansion in Knockturn Alley, Tom Riddle, who had just finished a secret meeting with the first group of core Death Eaters, was standing alone in front of the huge French window, overlooking the London wizarding world like a crawling monster at his feet.
Or rather, he who had just begun to be awe-inspiredly called "Voldemort" by his followers - his slender fingers were gracefully shaking the blood-red wine in the glass.
The gloomy sky outside the window was reflected in his deep eyes, brewing a storm of ambition that no one knew about.
Suddenly, his movements stopped abruptly!
The scarlet pupils - that inhuman color that was increasingly deepened by killing and black magic, and was still barely suppressed by him, suddenly flashed in the depths of his eyes, like a flash of blood in the dark night.
A cold, mechanical, irresistible force violently invaded his consciousness, and a panel emitting the same pale blue light forcibly unfolded before his eyes:
[You have been selected as a target for the 'True Love Lies' system. Bound by: Abraxas Malfoy.]
[The novice mission has been issued to the bound user. Please cooperate to complete it. Mission details: To be explored.]
[Warning: Excessive violation of the system's will may lead to unpredictable consequences.]
Voldemort's pupils contracted violently, and for the first time, an expression of surprise appeared on his handsome face.
Malfoy? Bound? Capture target? Cooperation? A surge of rage, offended and manipulated, washed over him, far more violent than the backlash of even the most powerful dark magic!
The knuckles of his fingers, which were gripping the goblet, turned white from the force. The precious crystal goblet made a slight "cracking" sound as it could not bear the weight, and spider-web-like cracks spread in an instant.
The scarlet light flickered wildly in his eyes, almost breaking through the disguise he was trying so hard to maintain.
He slowly raised his left hand, his fingertips trembling slightly due to extreme anger and an indescribable fear of being locked in an unknown force.
Just beneath the skin of his fingertips, an extremely subtle yet unusually clear golden line quietly emerged and extended as if it had life, outlining a strange and mysterious initial pattern, bringing a faint but unignorable burning pain like being branded.
Voldemort stared at the golden pattern that appeared out of thin air, feeling the strange pain from his fingertips and the cold panel in his mind.
An unprecedented mixture of rage, confusion, and a barely perceptible hint of... a cold interest, as if he had met his match, surged wildly in the depths of his scarlet eyes.
A low, cold laugh escaped from his throat, a hint of amusement, yet also a hint of affronted oppression: "Interesting...it's really getting more and more interesting."
Abraxas stood in the auction box where the hustle and bustle was still going on, his mind occupied by the cold system notification tone and the threat of "Crucio". His fingertips still had the cold touch of the edge of the memory bottle, and... the deeper chill brought by saying that name.
And in the shadow of Knockturn Alley, the golden patterns on Voldemort's fingertips were like a silent brand, his scarlet eyes penetrated the haze of London and accurately "locked" the direction of Malfoy Manor.
A whisper filled with endless murderous intent and inquiry, like the hissing of a poisonous snake, echoed in the silent room.
"Abraxas Malfoy…you're, fine."
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