Birmingham, England, at night.
In this, the second-largest city in England after London, inside a lavishly decorated house furnished in classic style, Tom Riddle sat sprawled on an antique chair with intricate gold carvings. He puffed on a Muggle cigarette, a novel little device from that world.
He watched the dimly lit streets. A few Muggles, clad in typical English gentleman's attire, strolled past.
…
Tom Riddle beckoned gently behind him with his right hand.
A middle-aged man wearing a black jacket over a black trench coat emerged from the shadows. He appeared to be around forty or fifty years old, with blond hair streaked with silver, and a slightly dark mustache. His somber demeanor gave him an air of menace.
"Master."
The man stood to the side and behind the antique chair, bowing and greeting him in a low voice.
Tom Riddle released the Muggle device from his hand, letting it fall onto the luxurious carpet. "Drake, I do not care for this brand. Procure a different one next time."
"Yes, Master."
Drake Hunter, in the underworld of Birmingham, England, at the end of the 20th century, was the absolute ruler.
Birmingham, an industrial city, had a history of gangs, including the Early 20th-century Razor Gang, the Birmingham Boys, and the Sabine Gang, all of whom had successively dominated the city's underworld.
However, these gangs were all gone now, just as the Birmingham Boys had suppressed the Razor Gang, only to be suppressed by the Sabine Gang.
Now, the Hunter family controlled the Birmingham underworld.
But the Hunter family had recently faced an unprecedented upheaval.
A strange wizard had appeared in Birmingham.
With ruthless methods and incomprehensible power, he suppressed the heavy firepower, killed countless opponents, and brought the Hunter family under his control.
…
Drake stared calmly at the corner of the black robe drooping on the carpet.
As the head of the Hunter family, he had led his entire clan to submit to this wizard who seemed less than human.
However, he didn't regret it.
He needed to consider his family; he needed to consider his brothers and his future generations.
Drake couldn't simply rely on impulse to take up arms and lead the entire Hunter family to fight this bizarre wizard.
And even then, there was no guarantee of victory.
Recalling that incomprehensible scene, Drake felt a chill run down his spine.
Whether it was machine guns, grenades, or even artillery shells, such heavy firepower was like toys to this strange wizard, like drops of water seeping into a lake, unable to create the slightest ripple.
He couldn't understand how the other person had suddenly disappeared, and when they reappeared, everyone except himself was dead, lying on the muddy streets, their skin pale and lifeless.
Drake vaguely remembered the thing called a wand pointing at his temple; his biological instincts, honed by years of life-or-death experiences, had never reacted so violently.
It was truly… incomprehensible and bizarre.
Drake took a deep breath, suppressing the useless emotions, and what rose instead was a surge of greed and ambition.
Birmingham was vast, so vast that it had taken him decades to truly control the city.
But a change in perspective and his inner ambition altered his previous thinking.
Birmingham was too small, too small to contain his ambition, too small to contain… the Hunter family he envisioned.
Before, he had no choice.
Now, he only wanted to grow bigger and stronger!
Being a local tyrant in a city was nothing!
Unknown magic! An unknown world! And the intertwined opportunities and crises!
All of this was beyond human imagination!
If he could seize it!
If he could seize it!!!
The Hunter family, and he, Drake Hunter, would never be confined to this small Birmingham!
...
Tom Riddle gazed at the bustling traffic outside the window, his mind replaying the thoughts of Drake that he had gleaned using Legilimency.
Tom Riddle did not care about this Muggle's ambition; in fact, he was quite pleased to see it.
It meant he could control this Muggle even better.
Although he could also control him directly with the Imperius Curse, that would not allow him to work for him as effectively. After all, the Imperius Curse was like a remote control; the signal weakened over distance, making it impossible to send him on missions.
It was advantageous that this Muggle was ambitious; Tom Riddle favored ambitious people.
"Leave now."
Tom Riddle waved his hand. "Have your men prepare. I shall be departing, and you need not remain here any longer."
"Yes."
Drake responded, turning and disappearing back into the shadows.
With a click, the antique wooden door hidden in the shadows opened, and Drake quietly closed it behind him.
Tom Riddle silently withdrew another cigar, skillfully lit it, and inhaled deeply. "Inhale… exhale~"
His eyes were glazed, his expression dreamy.
Hmm, which Muggle invented this little trinket?
It's not bad.
One might say even wizards are only human. Even though I am becoming increasingly inhuman, my base essence remains somewhat human.
When stress becomes excessive, I crave one.
Whether wizard or Muggle, everyone requires relief from stress.
It is merely that they employ different methods.
Under normal circumstances, a wizard could simply ingest a potion—a potion of joy or something similar—and be contented.
But these were not normal circumstances. Tom Riddle possessed neither the time nor the materials to brew a potion, so he decided to embrace the mundane.
Tom Riddle looked out the window at the constantly shifting figures.
A sense of melancholy washed over him. He used to despise Muggles, even the half-Muggle blood within his own veins.
But now… the only individuals he could effectively utilize were Muggles. Previously, he would not have even considered it.
Helplessness, sadness, frustration… but he had to admit, these Muggles were quite useful.
Drake was far more intelligent than his previous cadre of fools. He understood him without extensive explanation, was exceptionally articulate, and even possessed the capacity to share his burdens.
His other Muggles were reasonably efficient, unlike those blithering idiots who incessantly argued and bickered. They executed instructions without superfluous chatter.
Unfortunately, they could not wield magic, which inevitably diminished their utility.
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