"These are yours, Mr. Borgin." Quirrell pulled out a bag and threw it at Karaktakus Bock.

"Damn, don't call me by name, Quirinus Quirrell." Bock let out an angry roar, and refused to take the loss to call out Quirrell's name, and shouted even louder.

Then the sound of gold coins clashing echoed through the empty shack, but instead of catching them, Bock moved a few steps alertly to the exit in the face of the flying cuties.

Quirrell scoffed, as if mocking the other man's timidity, but Aini heard a hint of self-deprecation.

Ani didn't find old Bock's behavior funny, timidity and caution were not to be confused, and the fact that he had been able to mingle in the gray area for many years and maintain a great reputation was definitely a great thing.

Bock ignored Quirrell's taunts, in his eyes Quirrell was like a monkey standing in front of a python, a moment of smugness that only brought him a morbid rampant, but he forgot that as long as he lowered his head, the python could swallow him clean.

Even though the huge amount of money was at his feet, he still stared at the arrogant fool in front of him, and he didn't even look at the money bag on the ground.

After putting an iron charm on himself, Bock took out a brown bead that cracked a strange gap in the middle.

According to the seller, it was the remains of an Eye Demon, but it was difficult to tell exactly how Bock was, as the Eye Demon was a creature that had not been seen since the Dark Ages.

But the eyeball does possess mystical powers, it can store items and discern if there are traces of dark magic in them.

Bock used his afterglow to proofread the money bag on the ground, and a yellow gas poured out from the pupil of his eyeball, wrapping the money bag, and after a few breaths, the gas was sucked back, and the money bag was successfully slimmed down, and collapsed on the ground like a rag.

Seeing that his eyes had not changed, Bock took out a large pocket, shook his eyeballs and poured out the gold coins.

"Chenghui 900 Galleons." Bock tossed the box in his hand at Quirrell, almost exactly as Quirrell had done when he had been in his purse.

Quirrell reached out and grabbed it, opened it and looked it in. Unfortunately, due to the viewing angle, Aini couldn't see the contents of the box.

At this time, the elder Bock sneered back with the same style.

"Young man, it doesn't hurt to be cautious, if I wanted to hurt you, you'd already be dead twice." Bock spoke with disdain, he was not a good-natured man.

Is the customer God? Want to maintain your customers? What the hell are these!

Bock knows that no matter how good the service is, no one who has no need will not set foot in the Bogin-Bock store.

For those in need, they are the golden signboard, at least in the UK, many things can only be provided by themselves, love to buy or not.

"Heh~" Quirrell's tone was even more disdainful, "No one can kill me with one item, you should be glad you didn't have some crooked thoughts, your old life is not enough to pay the price of fooling me." Now, disappear from my eyes. ”

Ani sneered, even Dumbledore would have been hit by strange dark magic objects, let alone you hapless wretched wretch.

After making a note of Quirrell in a small notebook, Bock decided to double the price of the next trade.

As for killing Quirrell, it was impossible to despise the customer, and the nature of killing the customer was completely different, which would make him lose the follow-up purchase of dark magic items for research.

Keeping his face straight at Quirrell, Bock slowly exited the Screaming Shack.

Bock had been gone for a while, but Quirrell had been standing still and hadn't left.

After a few minutes, Ani noticed that Quirrell was starting to tremble, and as time went on, shaking more and more, and his limbs moved irregularly, like a grandmother who had asked a god to come up.

Quirrell was naturally not a master, and it was just a joke to ask the gods, but the demon did bring one.

"Why wake me up, is it done?"

In the past, Voldemort's hoarse voice was emotionless, but now it was full of pain, and [life dried] tormented him all the time.

Even Aini, who was on the opposing side, had to say the word "obedience", this old man was not only cruel to others, but also unambiguous to himself.

The rise of the Dark Lord was not a fluke, and Tom's extraordinary willpower was also a contribution.

"Great master, it's been obtained." Quirrell opened the box again, "Master, this is it, I saw it once 3 years ago, and there can be no mistake." ”

"Good, Quirrell. You didn't let me down this time. Voldemort's voice grew slower and slower, and he began to tremble a little.

"Master, with it we can start the action tonight, and then the great you will regain eternal life!" Quirrell's tone was frenzied and relieved, he had been tortured too much to hide from the thing in his head, he could only force himself to worship Voldemort all the time to avoid some "undeserved" thoughts in his head.

"No, Quirrell, it's not time yet." Voldemort remembered the temptation after entering the school, the Philosopher's Stone was not there at all, and he knew why, Dumbledore needed to protect the students at school.

Wait, wait, the time is approaching.

Dumbledore would definitely choose to start their game at the end of the semester, what a cunning old thing.

But he would tell him that no one can fool the great Dark Lord, and no one's rules are above his will.

"Master, when is it time, your devout servants are all eagerly waiting for your resurrection." Hearing Voldemort's answer, Quirrell's heart sank.

Fortunately, he reacted immediately, and hurriedly praised Voldemort in his heart.

"Very well, Quirrell, the Dark Lord will not treat his faithful servants lightly." Reading Quirrell's inner praise, Voldemort seemed to see the supreme glory of those who had left him and were now about to return, which made him explain it to his men for the first time.

"A month, Quirrell. There's another month, until term end at Hogwarts, and I'll give you a taste of what it's like to follow the Dark Lord. ”

Voldemort had a vague glimpse of the past, and wizards from ancient families gathered under the high platform, either rich and powerful, or gifted and powerful.

But everyone, everyone but himself, could only prostrate under the platform, and only the great Dark Lord stood high.

This is a glory that even Albus Dumbledore did not enjoy.

"No, no!"

Quirrell's shrill shouts interrupted his thoughts, and Voldemort glared in disgust, only to look through Quirrell's eyes into the corner of the shed.

"Oh, ah! Yes! Yes! Yes! ”

Quirrell's screams turned into screams, and his turban grew wider, squeezing his hood off his head, and an inexplicable mass of shape swelled from the back of his Voldemort's rejuvenating head.

Soon the turban broke apart, but instead of vertically and vertically, it split horizontally into bands that wrapped Voldemort from top to bottom.