Voldemort was surrounded by thick, ink-like black mist. The mist seemed alive, roiling and twisting violently with anger, as if it might devour someone at any moment.
In his signature snake-like slit pupils, a sinister and cold light flickered. Like a venomous snake lurking in the cold night, he stared fixedly at Lin Shu before him.
Ever since he had stood at the pinnacle of power in the Wizarding World, no one had ever dared to speak to him in such a tone.
Chapter 221