Chapter 239

Tom really couldn't wait any longer; it felt as if ten thousand cats were scratching at his heart, and he couldn't calm down at all.

He took out the Goblin gold coins and placed them nearby in case he needed to call for help at any time, then he drew his wand and pointed it at himself.

"Inhale, exhale..." He took a deep breath, "Legilimency!"

A strange feeling of rummaging through his own memories struck him in an instant, making him almost want to vomit from the discomfort, but he still endured it forcibly, struggling to move forward along the thread of time, further and further, trying to find those memories he had forgotten for unknown reasons.

However, very soon, he entered a void.

His earliest memory was still the day he woke up in the orphanage.

Further back, it was as if there was nothing; his brain was empty, as if he had only been born on that day.

He tried for another half minute, until his spirit and magic power could no longer hold up, and only then did he finally exit the state of Legilimency.

"What on earth is wrong with me?"

Tom felt incomparably frustrated.

"Could it be because my Legilimency isn't strong enough? Is my magic power level insufficient? What on earth should I do..."

Tom was lost in confusion. The Legilimency rewarded by the Guidebook had no issues in terms of technique, so it must be his magic power problem. But increasing magic power was not something that happened overnight; when on earth would he be able to find his memories back?

If only the Guidebook could give him a mission now and tell him what to do.

"Wait, the Guidebook..."

He suddenly remembered that before the Guidebook changed, it was a diary that could write the future.

And on the day he woke up, the diary was already by his side.

Since it was a diary, did it record things from his past?

Is it possible that it originally had records of the past, but they were overwritten when the text updated?

This Guidebook had always been very mysterious; it seemed to have a mind of its own and could issue missions based on his situation.

What would happen if he used Legilimency on it?

Would it display the past diary entries?

This was undoubtedly a very absurd idea, but once it appeared in his mind, he couldn't drive it away no matter what.

It was just a try anyway; at most, it just wouldn't work.

Thinking of this, he pointed his wand at the diary again. Just as he was about to cast the spell, he suddenly thought for a moment and drew out the snakewood wand.

Tom grabbed both wands side-by-side in his hand and pointed them at the diary.

Merlin bless...

"Legilimency!"

A notification message entered the mind of the sleeping Murphy. His consciousness woke up for an instant within half a second, understood the notification message, and then chose to continue sleeping soundly.

Tom finished the incantation, and in an instant, a pitch-black tunnel was opened.

Countless pieces of information flooded into Tom's mind.

"Hey, Tom."

He turned his head, and suddenly a fist smashed into his face, knocking him to the ground.

A tall boy looked down at him, "This punch is to teach you a rule, so you know who's in charge here."

"Billy," he heard himself say, "do you mean yourself? Sorry, no offense intended, I'm just a bit surprised that you can even use such complex sentence structures. This is truly amazing, when even a snail's brain capacity is larger than yours."

He received two more kicks.

One of the kicks landed on his chest, making him cough repeatedly.

"If you dare to defy me again, I'll break your legs!" Billy glared at him fiercely.

"Ernie is gone, so you think you're qualified to be the emperor of the orphanage?"

"At least more qualified than you! Freak!"

"Take that word back," he heard himself say, his voice carrying a kind of terrifying anger.

"Are you angry? Ha! The freak is angry! Freak! Freak!"

"You will regret it. Idiot!"

"Still daring to talk back! Beat him!"

"Sir, I want to ask if you know..."

A slightly chubby middle-aged man stood before him, holding a wine glass in his hand. He glared at him, "Defense Against the Dark Arts topic, is it?"

"No, sir, I saw it in a book and didn't quite understand it," he heard himself say.

For some reason, he could tell that this was a lie.

"Hmm... yes... it's hard to find a book at Hogwarts that introduces 【redacted】 in detail, Tom. That is a very evil thing, very evil," the professor said.

"Of course, there's no harm in giving you a simple introduction. Simply put, it is an object that contains a part of someone's soul."

"But I don't quite understand what that's about, sir," he said.

"It means you split your soul," the professor said, "and hide a part of it in an object outside your body. This way, even if your body is attacked or destroyed, you won't die, because there is still a part of your soul remaining in the world, undamaged. But, of course, existing in this form..."

"... very few people want that, Tom, very few. Dying is more pleasant."

"Tom, they say it was you who broke Billy's leg," an elderly woman was looking at him uneasily, "did you do it?"

"No, Mrs. Cole, I didn't do it. They are lying. I was in my room at that time, and Billy was outside playing with them. I think they kicked Billy and blamed it on me."

"They said they saw you laughing," Mrs. Cole still looked at him with worry, "did you hurt Billy because he threatened you? They said Billy threatened to break your legs."

"I laughed?" he said in surprise, but his voice seemed to carry an uncontrollable excitement, "Sorry, Mrs. Cole, I didn't notice."

"But you are laughing right now, Tom."

"Good evening, Rubeus," his voice was extremely harsh.

A big boy opposite him was startled and slammed the door behind him with a bang, "What are you doing here, Tom?"

He stepped closer, "It's over," he said, "I have to report you, Rubeus. They are discussing closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."

"What are you—" the boy opposite him was confused.

"I know you didn't mean to kill anyone. But a monster is not an ideal pet. I guess you just let it out to get some exercise, and—"

"It never killed anyone!"

"It wouldn't! Never!"

"Move aside."

"Petra says it was you who hanged her rabbit," Mrs. Cole's face was full of exhaustion, "was it because she wouldn't let you play with that rabbit?"

"I didn't want to play with her and her stupid rabbit," he said.

"I think she just felt you were too rough with her pet, and didn't mean any harm."

"That has nothing to do with her rabbit dying, Mrs. Cole," he said, "I think maybe Billy did it."

"Billy went to a mental hospital, Tom," Mrs. Cole looked at him, "he kept shouting your name while he slept, and even begged you for mercy."

"I don't know why he did that, Mrs. Cole."

"Then why are you so happy, Tom? This is clearly a sad thing?"

"Happy?"

He returned to his room and found a mirror.

The mirror reflected the face of a young boy.

He was indeed laughing, almost as if he couldn't suppress his excitement, his mouth stretched wide, wearing a kind of cruel, gloating smile.

Wait, this face...

This is my face!

But how is it possible, how could I look like this?

The boy in the mirror held his face in horror.

Who am I?

Who is me?

I am Tom.

This is Tom's memory.

I am Tom.

Which Tom?

Lucas... Tom... Brightson?

Or... Tom... Riddle?

With a bang, a flash of light exploded from the notebook, and the memory channel disconnected.

Tom collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

(End of chapter)