great-warnovel Chapter 342 Empty Things
Chapter 342 Empty Things
Chapter 342 Empty Things
"This desolate situation—it's almost the same as when I first graduated—" Voldemort thought to himself with a self-deprecating smile.
"Fortunately, there's still one loyal one—" She turned around and met Little Barty's burning gaze.
Although the latter immediately lowered her gaze, she could still immediately sense everything from that familiar look in his eyes—it was so similar to the way Bella had looked at him before.
At first, she felt a surge of anger, but then she quickly suppressed it, replacing it with a playful smile.
When men are worshipped and adored, they gain vanity and pleasure. So why does the same gaze make women angry?
Voldemort was not such a narrow-minded and shallow person. As an existence who aspired to transcend death and the fragility of mortal flesh, and to reign supreme over humanity, she should not be angered by the ants' possessiveness.
That was nothing more than the affectionate caress of a docile puppy, the immediate response to adoration and loyalty, and the casual perfunctory response to infatuation. But he was equally adept at manipulating people's hearts, and he had this woman, formerly surnamed Black, from the Lestrange family, Rodolphus, completely under his thumb.
Now, although the gender has changed, wouldn't it be perfect to use the same tricks to control Little Barty? He's her only servant, and if she doesn't want to do everything herself, it's best to ensure his loyalty.
"Little Barty." She deliberately dragged out the last syllable, like a lazy, languid black cat in the afternoon.
"I have nothing left to give you now."
"The Well of Immortality was shattered, the Green Flame Party was wiped out, and you, because of your loyalty to me, have ended up with nothing." She practically mastered her new look in a second, blinking her large eyes with long eyelashes as she looked at the wizard with an innocent expression.
"Why do you still follow me?" she sighed.
"Speaking of which, from the very beginning, as Crouch's only son, you had no reason to submit to my evil ways, did you?"
Lucius was after further power, while fools like Rodolphus and the Caro siblings were after so-called immortality.
Intelligent people like Barty, with their privileged backgrounds and genius minds, would normally be unlikely to be deceived by the illusion of immortality.
But Voldemort didn't think too much about it at the time. The fact that the once-famous genius wizard volunteered to join him only made him feel that he was the one destined for greatness.
Now, to control this man, one must know what he is thinking. In such a perilous situation, he remains loyal and devoted to you. What is he pursuing?
"You don't understand that feeling." Little Barty closed his eyes, suppressing the lingering infatuation and fascination he had just felt.
"From the moment I was born, everything about me was already arranged."
"A rule-abiding mother, a controlling father, a perfectly timed birth, and a natural genius—"
He cautiously sized up his master, who was now a head shorter than him: "Perhaps you understand?"
"This world is so boring. I can learn their incantations after just one reading. The power struggles that my biological father is so proud of, the so-called treacherous schemes, are nothing but a ridiculous clown show to me. They clumsily conceal their true thoughts and decorate everything in their lives with lies and vanity."
"A life that you can see the end from the beginning, an empty life, where people rack their brains, fighting for things that are meaningless!"
His voice suddenly rose, as if he were cursing the world.
"I can't stand it, and I don't want to become like them!"
Voldemort suddenly laughed; she knew the cause of Barty's illness.
"Genius syndrome."
That's how she defined him.
He had everything too easily, and his life was too wonderful and mundane, which prevented him from truly experiencing life in this world.
In this cruel and cold wasteland, he was born into the most perfect family, as if he had bribed Merlin, and possessed the most outstanding talents. But it was precisely because of this situation that he contracted a disease that ordinary people were not even qualified to get.
He feared the mundane, loathed everything that followed the rules, hated his father who had paved the way for his life, and pursued exciting, rebellious, and despised things.
The hypocrisy of the nobles led him to believe that the worst aspects of human nature were the real ones, and that the whole world was like a huge, fake stage where everyone, from the powerful to the commoners, from parents to lovers, was performing, putting on a disgusting facade of friendliness and harmony, but they didn't know who they were putting on this show for.
His exceptional talent, which allows him to quickly master anything and do it to the best of his ability, also prevents him from deriving a sense of accomplishment from creating new things. While an ordinary person might be excited for half a month after getting a zero, for him it is nothing more than a normal pebble on the road of life.
His unfulfilled emptiness filled him with disgust for everything in real life, while his powerful talent gave him the ability to break free from these constraints.
Unlike others, he pledged his loyalty to Voldemort not for immortality or power.
He was the one who truly saw through Voldemort's cruelty and evil, but he did not resist it. Instead, he believed that this was human nature. He secretly worked as a Death Eater while publicly serving as the Chief of the Law Enforcement Division, which gave him an indescribable thrill of being a spy.
"He needs to find meaning in his existence through immorality, and that's the source of his disgusting gaze," Voldemort sighed inwardly.
It wasn't because of her beauty or lust, but simply because she had once been his "father"!
He derived so much pleasure from those forbidden and immoral fantasies that even Occlumency surgery couldn't suppress those emotions.
For a fleeting moment, Voldemort even felt a little disappointed. His strength and appearance were enough to make him proud, but he had failed to win the heart of this man.
A ribbon split off from the black scale robe that had transformed from snakeskin, and with lightning speed, it choked Little Barty's throat.
"So, is that why you looked at me like that?" Voldemort leaned in gently, tilting his head back and exhaling hot air from his mouth onto the almost suffocating wizard's face.
The latter blushed, but dared not struggle, and was even somewhat absorbed in the suffocating experience, making sounds.
"Oh, perhaps you think we should change how we address you from now on—" Voldemort chuckled, but he wasn't angry. Barty could also tell that he had no intention of killing him; it was all just a warning.
"But child, I admire you." The ribbon loosened, and little Barty knelt on the ground, greedily inhaling the air.
Barefoot Voldemort walked up to him, raised his hand and lifted his face: "What a handsome young man, what burning ambition! Isn't this what a man should have?"
Barty Jr. was thrown into a daze by Voldemort's sudden change in mood.
"Father—Master, I—"
"Our next step—"
He dared not delve deeper into the topic, yet he was captivated by Voldemort's manipulative tactics, even though he knew it was a ploy by his evil master. He was drawn into it, experiencing the same pleasure as Bellatrix.
Voldemort knew when to stop. She knew that things that are too easily obtained are not cherished, and for someone like Barty, what is unattainable is the most precious. Once something is obtained, it becomes tasteless.
"Alright, get up. Let's plan our next move." She dropped her deliberately seductive manner and exuded a queen-like aura as she sat on the soft leather sofa, her legs crossed to reveal her snow-white skin.
Little Barty got up from the ground, but his eyes remained fixed on those smooth curves, which seemed even more alluring.