— — — — — —
Tom looked at the girl in surprise. And Ginny met his gaze stubbornly, her eyes faintly red. He could feel her resolve clearly, without a hint of wavering.
A second-year witch, saying something like "even if it's murder, I'll go with you."
Ginny, you really know how to hit where it hurts.
Tom silently gave her full marks in his head. He reached out and ruffled her hair. Ginny understood what that meant and broke into a bright satisfied smile.
"So," she said, "now you can tell me what you're actually going to do, right?"
Tom shrugged. "Didn't I already say it? I'm going to kill someone."
Since Ginny had already gone all in, he didn't bother hiding anything. He explained the entire conflict between Astra Abyssum and Knockturn Alley.
After hearing it all, instead of being scared, the girl grew even more excited. She pumped her small fist in the air. "How dare they try to steal our stuff! Tom, when are we leaving?"
"..."
"After dinner," he replied calmly. "Relax. The other shops in Diagon Alley aren't closed yet, and those people won't dare make a move in broad daylight."
---
Late at night - Diagon Alley
The once-bustling wizarding street gradually fell silent. Most shops had closed around eight or nine. Only Ollivanders still glowed with a faint candlelight, the old craftsman inside continuing his research into wand materials.
"Sigh… let's hope it all holds together."
Close to midnight, Ollivander let out a quiet sigh. With a gentle flick of his wand, all the lights went out, leaving only a small glow at the tip to guide him back to the backyard.
As a local power who had been rooted here for over a thousand years, Ollivander might not have been much when facing a madman like Voldemort. But here, in Diagon Alley, he was unquestionably a heavyweight. Through his own channels, he'd already heard about the small movements in Knockturn Alley.
He'd also sent Tom a letter. Yeah, a letter. Aside from innovation in wand materials, the old man was stubborn to a fault. He rejected nearly every new invention and still insisted on communicating via owl post.
That said, he genuinely loved the Astra Abyssum Guild's task system. As long as he paid in Galleons, rare materials could be sourced from all over the world. No more yearly expeditions. The Guild oversaw the entire process, ensuring fairness from start to finish.
As for who retrieved the materials? He didn't care if they were werewolves or vampires. As long as the goods arrived, that was enough.
Partly to build goodwill, partly for his own convenience, Ollivander had warned Tom. Tom had received the message earlier that day. It wasn't particularly useful, but it clearly showed where the old craftsman stood.
...
The streets were deadly silent.
On the other side of Diagon Alley, Tom had already brought Ginny to Astra Abyssum.
"Wow~"
It was Ginny's first time meeting Catherine. She circled the two Catherines curiously, trying to figure out whether they were really dolls. When she confirmed that these "puppets" weren't much different from real people, complete with flesh and blood, alarm bells went off in her head.
Oh no.
If Tom's skills were this advanced, didn't that mean he could basically do whatever he wanted?
Then what did he even need women for? He could create the best girl for himself.
Ahhh— A bunch of foolish girls, still fighting over him back at school. The biggest threat was Tom himself!
At that moment, Tom was busy setting things up. If he'd used Legilimency and seen what Ginny was thinking, he would've given her two solid smacks on the butt.
He wasn't the kind of person who went after dolls. He wasn't nearly as twisted as she imagined.
"Hey."
"Stay here and watch," Tom said, leading Ginny to a second-floor room by the window and settling her in. "Standing next to me will get too bloody."
Ginny nodded obediently. She knew that insisting on following him would only cause trouble.
Still, she made one small request. "…Can you leave one person for me?"
Tom fell silent.
"Ginny, think carefully..."
"…Are you sure?"
Ginny nodded firmly. "Everything has a first time. You're going to have more enemies in the future, aren't you? Didn't you say you wanted to train me into your number one enforcer? If I can't even kill bad people, how am I supposed to help you later?"
'Huh? Training you to be what? I was going to make you a maid. Then I changed my mind and decided on a dark witch maid.'
"Ahem... I'll leave you someone alive, then," Tom said after a moment, nodding. In the end, seeing some blood would be good for her.
Killing as a wizard did leave marks on the soul, especially at Ginny's age. It could easily affect her mindset. But Tom already had a method to purify such traces using phoenix fire. He could simply cleanse it afterward.
...
Half an hour later, shadows began to emerge from Knockturn Alley and move toward Diagon Alley. Counting them, there were twenty-six in total.
The man at the front lowered his voice. "Our task is simple. Destroy everything inside the Astra Abyssum Guild that can be destroyed. Take anything valuable. Move fast. Especially those puppets. Blow them up until there's nothing left. Got it?"
"Bask, you're too damn long-winded," a burly man replied gruffly. "Like we don't already know."
Bask snorted coldly and didn't bother arguing.
These two were the leaders of the operation. Bask owned a potion shop in Knockturn Alley. Even Hagrid's pest control potion came from his place.
The man mocking him was named Ragnar, a professional smuggler. And a werewolf wizard.
Their businesses had taken the hardest hit, so naturally, they were the first to lose patience.
Especially Ragnar. He'd carved out his position in Knockturn Alley and, thanks to his werewolf status, gathered a pack of werewolves under him.
He squeezed them dry without mercy. But ever since the "Mercenary Guild" appeared, his ten werewolf subordinates had dwindled to just two. Two others hadn't run because they couldn't. He'd broken their legs and thrown them into cages.
Even the muscle he'd hired for tonight had been paid for with cash from Knockturn Alley.
At this point, Ragnar hated the Astra Abyssum Guild and that Riddle brat with a passion. He was grinding his teeth, wishing he could bite Tom right now and turn him into a werewolf.
...
The group moved forward silently. Every time they passed a shop, someone cast a Silencing Charm. They actually looked pretty professional.
Finally, they reached the entrance of the Astra Abyssum building. A vicious glint flashed through Bask's eyes. He raised his wand at the door and whispered, "Alohomora"
The lock clicked open.
Delight flickered across their faces. Without even checking their surroundings, they surged inside. They'd already studied the Guild's routine. Off work at seven. Sirius Black never stayed overnight.
But the moment the last person rushed in, glowing runes flared across the floor.
A massive force erupted outward, catching them completely off guard and blasting everyone back.
As the group struggled to their feet in a mess, slow clapping echoed through the hall.
"So many guests dropping by in the middle of the night," a calm voice said. "And not one of you thought to let the host know?"
"Tom Riddle?!"
Bask's face went pale as he stared in disbelief at the boy sitting casually on a chair by the entrance, smiling at them.
Why was he here?
"What's with that look?" Tom said lightly. "You didn't really think your plan was a secret, did you? I've got plenty of people who like to keep me informed."
He lifted a hand. A fierce gust of wind swept through the hall, ripping away hoods and black cloaks. One by one, the attackers were revealed.
"Let's see," Tom said, eyes scanning them. "Dark wizards, minor families, werewolves, vampires… huh? Goblins too?"
His brows lifted slightly as he spotted two ugly figures desperately trying to hide in the back. None of his informants, not Borgin, not Ollivander, not anyone else, had mentioned goblins being involved.
"Well, that's interesting. Looks like I'll need to have a proper chat with Gringotts."
The reason was obvious enough. He'd been withdrawing large amounts of Galleons lately. The greedy little creatures probably didn't like that.
Honestly, these goblins were almost thoughtful.
He'd been wondering how to justify picking a fight with them, and here they were, delivering themselves right to his doorstep. Such kind souls.
"Mr. Riddle, this was reckless of us," Bask said, taking a deep breath and backing down smoothly. "Someone misled us, said the Guild was hiding vast amounts of gold and rare materials. I was blinded by greed and agreed to this plan."
"I'm willing to offer half my assets as compensation. I hope you'll forgive us."
They had numbers, sure. But look at the trash they were made of. Tom had already smashed through full-blood pureblood families and left them ruined. Compared to that, what chance did these people have?
There wasn't even the slightest possibility of winning.
The others started to waver. But the two goblins at the very back turned and ran.
Whoosh—
A sharp tearing sound cut through the air. Two ice spears condensed out of nothing and pierced straight through the goblins' throats. They died instantly, without even time to scream.
The spears curved in midair, dragging the bodies back and pinning them to the massive stone pillars at the Guild entrance.
"Since you're already here," Tom said calmly as he rose to his feet, "no need to rush off."
His fingers moved slightly. Countless ice spears and lances of flame formed in the air, dense as a forest, all pointed at the trapped attackers.
Bask was furious and terrified. "Riddle, are you really going this far? We're not without backing! If you kill us, the entire British wizarding world will reject you by tomorrow! This isn't North America!"
"That's not something you need to worry about," Tom replied.
He snapped his fingers.
The spears of ice and fire shot forward. Overwhelming magic and sheer will warped the surrounding space itself. Apparition was impossible.
Protective spells shattered one after another. And the number of spears didn't decrease. It only grew.
When the first unlucky soul was pierced, despair flooded the rest. They knew their fate was sealed. Resistance grew frantic and savage. Even if they were going to die, they wanted to drag Tom down with them.
...
On the second-floor balcony, Ginny stood with her head lowered. Her small body trembled, but her gaze was steady, unblinking, fixed on the slaughterhouse below as blood blossomed through the air.
.
.
.