"Transmigrator? What's that?"Riddle asked curiously. Faced with an unfamiliar world, he did his best to play the part he was most skilled at—an excellent student whom everyone admired.
"It's just something mentioned in a certain hypothesis," Charles said casually. "Some researchers studying Pokémon seem to have discovered a realm called the Reverse World. That world is supposed to be similar to ours… though the details are completely opposite."
At that, Riddle fell silent, lost in thought.Could it be… that he had actually come from this so-called Reverse World?He couldn't help glancing at Charles, trying to read more from his expression.
Charles, however, knew exactly what he was doing. Since he had woven this elaborate tale of a Pokémon world to deceive Voldemort, he needed to fully inhabit the mindset of someone who actually lived in that world—otherwise, he would eventually expose himself.
So he feigned suspicion and said half-jokingly, "But that's just an unproven theory. Honestly, I'm more inclined to think you're some kind of Ghost-type Pokémon playing tricks. Be honest—are you a Gastly, or maybe a Sableye?"
"Gastly? Sableye? Are those Pokémon too?"
"No? Then what are you, a Misdreavus? Or perhaps a Banette?"
"I am merely a fragment of Tom Riddle's memory," Riddle replied, expression thoughtful. "Still, the idea of this 'Reverse World' of yours is fascinating. Unbelievable, even. But… perhaps that's the truth."
It seemed he had begun to convince himself. His demeanor grew more serious, his earlier arrogance fading into contemplation.All of this was unbelievable—but if it were true, then so many things that had baffled him before suddenly made sense.
For instance—the severed link between himself and Voldemort's true body.He had initially thought something had gone wrong with his original form. But now it made more sense: he had simply left his own world, and thus lost the connection.
That would also explain why the diary he'd entrusted to Malfoy had somehow ended up in someone else's hands.
With that realization, Riddle's mind eased considerably.In fact, he now felt excited—a whole new world awaited him!He, the great Lord Voldemort…It must be fate that he was destined to rule two worlds.
'Still… I should be cautious. That man mentioned Dumbledore earlier. If this world also has a Dumbledore, he could become a problem.'
At his current age, Riddle was still relatively rational.Assuming everything "Mr. Harry Potter" said was true, he had already gathered several key pieces of intelligence:
This world was not the same as his original one.
This world had its own Dumbledore—who was also the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
The people here didn't use magic; instead, they commanded Pokémon in battle.
'If this world has a Dumbledore… could there also be another me?'He pondered the idea, imagining what his counterpart might be like here. Surely, if that person bore the name Voldemort, he too must be someone of renown—perhaps feared, perhaps revered.
"By the way," Riddle asked suddenly, "does your world have someone named Voldemort? In my world, he was a great wizard who led pure-bloods to true glory—the most powerful sorcerer in existence."
Charles nearly burst out laughing at how shamelessly the man glorified himself.If only he knew the truth, he'd probably cringe so hard he'd dig a hole with his wand!
"Voldemort? Never heard of him," Charles replied smoothly. "But your world really has wizards? So you don't command Pokémon in battle?"
"We fight for ourselves!" Riddle declared proudly.
His expression radiated superiority, that innate sense of condescension he carried.He despised those who couldn't wield magic. He looked down on non-human beings. He disdained Muggle-born wizards—and even scorned half-bloods… despite being one himself.
So when facing a "Harry Potter" who relied on Pokémon to battle, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contempt. He tried not to show it outwardly, but the arrogance in his bones was impossible to hide.
No matter how powerful Pokémon were, they were still just animals.How could they compare to his own power?
Once he gained this man's trust and managed to resurrect himself, he would make this magicless world kneel beneath his feet!
That was what Riddle thought—Until he suddenly remembered something critical.
This world… might not have wands.
That realization hit him like a curse.For a wizard, a wand was indispensable. Without it, he could still cast spells—but his power would be drastically weakened.
"Well then, I should get going," Charles said, deciding to end the conversation.Talking too much was dangerous, and he didn't have time to spare anyway. Riddle was already tangled in the web of lies he'd spun; it would take him a while to digest all of it.
"All right. Then perhaps we can continue next time," Riddle said, hiding his eagerness. He wanted to learn more—but he also knew not to rush.
Still, as Charles prepared to leave, he couldn't resist one last attempt.
"If you ever have something weighing on your mind, you can talk to me. After all, I'm just a memory—from another world, no less."
"We'll see," Charles said with a wave, withdrawing his consciousness alongside Slowpoke's thoughts from the diary.
He immediately closed the book, locked it inside a box, and reinforced it with several powerful sealing spells to ensure it wouldn't be misplaced.He wasn't about to risk losing it through carelessness.
If anyone ever got hold of this diary again—it would only be because he allowed it.
"Let's leave him hanging for a while," Charles muttered. "Too much contact too often isn't good."
Yes—Charles understood the CPU of human interaction.You can't always be the one chasing. To truly control the rhythm, you have to alternate between warmth and distance, advance and retreat.
Right now, Riddle was utterly captivated by the world Charles had painted for him.And just when things were getting good—Charles vanished.It was like watching a film right at its climax… only for the screen to go black with a message: "To be continued next year."
That's right—looking at you, Failed MAN!
(End of Chapter)