The waves of the Thames crash against the rocks, rolling up cascading waves.

The sky was dappled in a gloomy gray mist, and in the distance, the towering Big Ben stood in the smoke of industry, indistinguishable from fifty years later.

1938, Woo's Orphanage, London.

It's a boxy, eerie building.

The orphanage's origins are unknown, some say it was for the children of soldiers who died in World War I, others say it was a medieval church where Black Death prisoners were held. The origin of the divergence of opinions indicates only one thing.

It's broken here.

Dense wires wrapped around the sky, and houses were stacked in a mess on the gray stone floor, with no beauty at all.

A large iron gate completely separates it from the busy street outside, and the ground is filled with foul-smelling white smoke, and the rusted manhole covers are churning out with steam, and even the rain will jam the mouth of the sewer.

The room in the basement of the orphanage.

A little boy with his eyes closed as if he was sleeping.

He was only about eleven years old, with short black hair, pale skin, and a somewhat mixed-race face, but the bruised head completely ruined his appearance.

He lay on the bed, twitching from time to time, as if in great pain.

Knock knock.

Outside the door, there was a polite knock, and the boy did not wake up.

After a while.

Knock knock!!

The knocking on the door was louder.

......

Hofa woke up from his nightmare, and he suddenly got up and stroked his skull, as well as his crotch. He was relieved when he found that there were no missing parts.

I'm still alive.

With a sniffle, he smelled a musty smell of rancidity.

In front of him is not the scene of the fire of the exploding movie theater, but a dirty, dark room.

Hoffa looked at his palms in shock, white and thin.

Suddenly, a sharp pain in the door of the brain rushed up. He rolled his eyes and fell straight down again, and in a dim sense he heard a knock on the door outside that seemed to be in a hurry.

......

I don't know how long it took for Hoffa to slowly recover from the pain.

He had a memory in his head that didn't belong to him at all.

He's still called Hoffa, but he's not the Hoffa on Earth anymore. That Hoffa on Earth is an ordinary student of Earth Huaxia, a lonely one. I don't have a house, a car, or money, and my only hobby is to save up for some books, watch movies, or something.

But just when he was watching an IMAX movie, the theater suddenly exploded, and he came to this ghost place.

His current full name is Hoffa Bach.

He is a child who grew up in an ordinary orphanage.

Some surviving memories tell him that the original owner of the body was tricked into going to a cave by the sea during a picnic organized by the orphanage, falling off a cliff and falling into the icy waters. After being carried back to the orphanage, he was already dying, which allowed Hoffa to take advantage of the situation.

All the kid remembers is London's sewage-filled streets. He had never been anywhere else. I don't know what a phone or a computer is, and I don't know the Internet. He had only seen classic cars emitting black smoke on the streets, and black umbrellas everywhere.......

Hoffa thought hard, trying to scavenge some information from his shattered memories to help him survive.

Shaking his head, some scattered memory fragments came flooding up again.

In this life, my father was a native of China, a Chinese who fled the war and came to Europe, but died in a foreign land in the First World War.

The surname Bach after his name is probably related to a foreign mother.

It's just that Hoffa doesn't have any memories of his mother in his head.

......

"Orphans...... I actually crossed over!"

Hoffa rubbed his head and exhaled a cloudy breath. He doesn't care about crossing over, after all, he has nothing to worry about in his previous life, but this starting template is a little too inferior.

He looked more closely at his surroundings.

A dirty bed, a broken wooden table, and a few faded posters of soldiers on the wall.

There is also a British short blue cat hanging from the ceiling.

That's right, the cat hung straight and hard from the ceiling, and it was extremely miserable.

Hoffa's mind came up with the cat's name.

Addo.

It is the best friend of the owner of his body in his previous life.

An inexplicable annoyance appeared in his heart, and Hoffa developed a feeling of extreme disgust, who was it to hang an innocent and poor cat here, or in front of his master!

Before he could wait for him to look through the culprit from memory.

.....

There was a soft knock on the door and the sound of a key opening the door.

Smack!

Suddenly, the closed door slammed open, as if someone had kicked it hard.

Hoffa took a step back in fright.

Outside the door stood two people, a man and a woman.

The woman he was familiar with, and the moment Hoffa saw her, he called up her identity from memory.

It's Mrs. Cole.

The caretaker of the Wu orphanage, a skinny woman who is always a little anxious.

And there was a very unexpected visitor standing beside her.

This is an eccentric old gentleman, Hoffa can only think so. Because this man's dress doesn't fit in with the environment. He had blue eyes and a long nose that seemed to be broken. He wore a long russet beard and long hair tied neatly, dressed in a smart velvet suit, and clutched a cane and top hat in his hands.

Hoffa had no doubt that the dress was custom-made from Savile Row, but it was not the old gentleman's outfit that surprised him.

It was his beard and hair, which he always thought looked a little strange.

"Tom, someone came to see you......"

The scrawny Mrs. Cole said nonchalantly, but then she jumped up like a cat that had been stepped on by the tail.

"Wait a minute, why are you? Hofa! Did he rob your room?"

Hoffa was still wondering who the familiar old man in front of him was, and he didn't react to Mrs. Cole's words for a long time.

The old man had already entered the room, looked around, and sighed in front of the hanged cat. Standing in front of Hoffa again, a pair of dark blue eyes under the long nose looked at Hoffa calmly.

Then he reached out his long fingers and gently stroked the bruise on Hoffa's skull.

"Poor child......."

There was a healing sensation from the wound on the door of his head, and a flash of lightning flashed through Hoffa's mind, and he looked incredulously at the door number in the room.

It reads in crooked English:

【Tom Marvolo Riddle】

What the hell am I going to ..... Harry Potter world?

I'm Voldemort!?

Hoffa's mind was a little confused for a while, but soon, he realized that he was thinking too much.

He was Hoffa, but he stayed in Voldemort's room, and he immediately knew the reason from memory.

This is an orphanage, his previous life was a well-behaved child, very much loved by the orphanage administrator, his room is on the first floor, can access the sun. Tom's room is in the basement.

Tom Riddle, the young Voldemort, coveted his room and tricked him into the cave, and after all the intimidation failed, he pushed Hoffa off the cliff.

It's too late to feel too much about the tragic experience, world view, era, and story of his predecessor...... All kinds of mixed information flooded into his brain, and Hoffa's eyes widened and widened.

The old man treated Hoffa's wound a little, then turned to look at Mrs. Cole and sighed, "Take me to Tom." ”

Mrs. Cole nodded, ready to take him away.

The two walked to the door, and Hoffa finally reacted, pointing to the old man's back, almost blurting out.

"Deng....Deng....Deng is not ....."

The russet bearded Dumbledore turned around in surprise, his head wrinkled several times, and his blue eyes widened.

The air was somewhat quiet.

Hoffa quickly covered his mouth, damn it! Shocked, he didn't control his mouth.

You know, the other party is the world's top wizard, and there are a hundred ways to expose yourself secretly. Truth spitting, heart-snatching spell...... Although he thought that Dumbledore would probably disdain those methods, it was always right to be careful.

If you are caught taking it away, God knows what this mysterious magical world will do with you.

But Dumbledore had no intention of letting Hoffa go, and he asked softly, "Have we met?"

Hoffa covered his mouth and shook his head into a rattle.

"Then how do you know my name?"

As he spoke, Dumbledore stepped forward.

Hoffa took a step back.

Dumbledore was dumbfounded, and he politely turned to Lady Cole and said, "Wait a minute, I'd like to talk to this kid alone for a while." ”