I became Voldemort

Chapter 102: The new owner of Riddle House

Riddle House is located on the hillside of Little Hangleton, with the entire town visible from here. Although it is said to be a town, in fact, it is no different from the countryside.

Modern technology does not seem to have spread to this remote town. It still looks the same as it did decades ago, except for the occasional dilapidated truck driving on the dirt road.

Apart from Riddle House, the oldest thing in the town is the Hanged Man's Tavern and a cemetery not far away.

Four or five miles further away is Great Hangleton County, which is Cyruss' real destination this time - the old Gaunt house. But before heading to his old home, Cyrus plans to find a place to stay.

"Hello, sir."

When Cyrus got out of a dilapidated car, an old man seemed to have been waiting there for a long time. His hair was gray, his body was stooped, and he was lame in one leg. Even his voice trembled when he spoke.

Not far away, the men and women who were originally planning to do farm work stopped and looked at the old man in shock, as if he was a dead spirit that emerged from somewhere.

"Frank Bryce?" Cyrus held the gentleman's crutch with one hand, his suit jacket hanging on his arm, and raised his hat with the other hand to look at the old man in front of him.

"It's me, sir..." Frank said tremblingly.

He probably wanted to reach out to help Cyrus, but after noticing the extremely expensive-looking suit on Cyrus, he immediately retracted his hand in fear.

"I think you should have heard that I bought the Riddle House. The government should have informed you." Cyrus didn't pay attention to the road here and stepped on the dirt with his shiny leather shoes.

"Yes, sir, yes." Frank nodded hurriedly, feeling filled with confusion again. He has been working as a gardener at Riddle Mansion for 50 years. Now, even the owner of the mansion has died mysteriously for 50 years. He still lives honestly inside the shabby shed in the garden of the mansion. 

Now that the mansion has a new owner, he doesn't know what kind of fate he will face next.

He is still under suspicion for the mysterious deaths of the Riddle family back then. Will this gentleman continue to employ him? Even putting that aside, he was very old.

If he was fired, where would he go?

Under the watchful eyes of the people in the town, Cyrus followed Frank to the mansion on the mountainside in the distance. Unlike London, the weather here is very clear, and Riddle House, covered with vegetation, looks green from a distance.

However, upon getting closer, you can see that the mansion is completely dilapidated.

Weeds growing wantonly sprouted from every crack, and the ivy on the walls also invaded the house.

The glass in the mansion was broken, and the wooden doors and beams were in disrepair and were covered with mold, and some were even damaged. It has been chewed to pieces by insects and ants.

He doubted how much longer the mansion could hold out without collapse.

"Sir, I..." Frank opened his mouth.

But Cyrus gave him a gesture, indicating that he didn't need to say anything more. Frank had no choice but to close his mouth in confusion.

He didn't know what kind of emotions were hidden under his old face.

Perhaps he was thinking that it would be easier to die like this.

He has been staying in this small mansion for decades. For him, time has long stood still. Leaving here, he will be just a person abandoned by the times, with no room for survival.

He sighed, his slack and stiff face moved, and finally decided to say something. But as soon as he raised his head, his already cloudy eyes saw that the gentleman actually picked up a small and delicate wooden stick.

Then, those stubborn weeds disappeared, and the overgrown ivy became docile. The broken glass and other things were miraculously repaired in front of Frank's eyes.

""

The collapsed sculpture seemed to come to life on its own, briskly. The sculpture jumped up and struck a beautiful pose.

It's as if time has gone back on them, and in the blink of an eye, they have returned to the brand-new appearance of the mansion from fifty years ago.

The messy yard suddenly became cleaner and looked much emptier. The blocked and abandoned fountains and pools in the yard also came to life, and the clear water sparkled in the sun.

Frank thought he was dreaming and rubbed his eyes hard with his fingers that were rougher than dry branches.

"Sir, this..."

He was filled with doubts, but before he could ask, Cyrus pointed the wand at him.

"Obliviate."

The picture in Frank's mind seemed to be cut off for a while, and then spliced ​​into other messy pictures.

Suddenly, in his memory, the image of Cyrus waving the wand had completely disappeared, replaced by Unknown maintenance staff who were constantly repairing the manor before sir's arival.

"Frank Bryce!"

Old Frank was called back from those false memories by Cyrus's call. When he came back to his senses, he found that he was no longer standing in the manor, but sitting on a beautiful chair. And the gentleman was sitting opposite him.

He suddenly became frightened and quickly wanted to stand up so as not to be annoying or disrespectful.

"Please sit down, Bryce, there's no need to be formal." Cyrus comforted him and reached out to push him back to the chair. The old man looked uneasy and looked around the room in a panic.

Although he has been a gardener here for more than fifty years, he actually enters the mansion very rarely. Except for cleaning and repairing the windows that were smashed by the children in the town, he hardly dares to set foot inside the house.

But even so, he clearly remembered all the furnishings and locations in the room, but now everything changed. The mansion's new owner has obviously made huge changes to it.

Now the entire mansion looks very exquisite, and it is not so dark anymore. The sunlight shines in from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, giving it a sense of renewed vitality.

"Bryce, I heard that you have been staying here for so many years. I think you can continue to live here in the future." Cyrus said generously.

"Sir, are you telling the truth?" Old Frank almost cried. Tears filled his eyes. If it weren't for Cyrus forcing him to sit on the chair, he might have immediately knelt down in front of Cyrus.

But even so, he still said:

"Sir, you are a good man and are willing to take in a useless old loser like me. However, you may not have heard some rumors..."

"You mean you were once thought to be the murderer of the Riddle family?"

"Sir, since you know this, why are you still employing me?"

"I think people need to be able to identify unfounded rumors to a certain extent." Cyrus naturally knew the truth. The person who killed the Riddle family had nothing to do with the poor old man. "Since the police said that there is no evidence to arrest you, and you have worked so hard for so many years, I believe you cannot be the murderer."

Frank had probably never experienced such firm trust, and he wished he could immediately do something for Cyrus. But an old man like him couldn't help Cyrus at all.

Cyrus just took pity on him and kept him.

"I won't stay here often, so there still needs to be someone to take care of it. In addition-" Cyrus stood up and walked slowly to the door of the mansion.

At this time, Old Frank saw a huge python coming out of nowhere.

He trembled all over. He was about to shout a warning, but he saw the python clinging to Cyrus' feet obediently, with its flat head. Rubbing against his trousers, it was like a puppy.

Cyrus reached out and gently stroked the python, as if greeting an old friend.

"Also, Bryce, if other 'guests' come here at any time, you should leave. There is an old house in the town for you to live in. Don't disturb them." After saying that, Cyrus also Regardless of any reaction or question from Frank Bryce, left with the python.

"Sir?"

"Sir!"

"gentlemen!"

Bryce shouted:

"What shall I call you?"

"You can call me Cyrus, or if you like, you can continue to call me Riddle."

Old Frank stood there blankly, the bright sunshine hitting him, and for some reason, he felt a chill.

People said that he was guarding the Riddle House like a ghost, guarding the terrifying and strange murder story, but today, he seemed to have really seen a ghost of the Riddle House.

...Now that I think about it, this gentleman does seem ..familiar.

He remembered that he had seen an equally handsome young man one night.

_____

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