Hogwarts: I am Voldemort.

Chapter 141 Ask the Old Sir

Lucius had entered the production workshop, under the leadership of Pokis.

He understands what automation and standardization are, and what it means to increase production capacity.

It's just that before this, he only thought that this was Voldemort's way of making money--bringing the Malfoy family to make a fortune together, he used to think so--but now it seems that his own situation is small.

Voldemort didn't want to make a fortune alone at all, he wanted to use this way of making money in exchange for the support of the pure-blood family.

"Advanced potions such as compound pharmacy and Felicia are completely impossible to automate and standardize."

Voldemort found a booklet from the table, which was sorted out by Pokiss and Malfoy before.

"But it says that low-end potions such as antidote potions and stamina potions can be mass-produced with the help of a few wizards, right?"

"Yes, Dark Lord, the premise is to solve the problem of potion ingredients." Lucius nodded and said, "But these have not been practiced yet, and they are just guesses, and... it is best to have a potion master participate."

Voldemort nodded, he thought of Snape, if there was him, the automatic potion production factory should be better built, but...

"Don't worry, think about the road first, and do the research first. I don't plan to start this plan immediately." Voldemort said.

Lucius looked at him puzzled - what's the point of not implementing it?
"It's good that you know this, and you don't have to say it outside, but I think this is enough to give you more confidence in the future. When you persuade those pure bloods or some families, you should also be more confident?" Voldemort asked road.

Lucius nodded immediately. Through this exchange, he was indeed more confident.

"That's good. Let's talk about the rest later. I won't take any specific actions until I regain my body. Lucius, hide your strength and bide your time. The time has not yet come." Voldemort said in a deep voice.

"Yes, Dark Lord." Lucius immediately got up and said.

Voldemort nodded, then let him go and continue to gather pure blood.

Although there is still no practical means, Lucius' self-confidence has increased a lot. He left with a lot of energy and embarked on the road to revive the great cause of the Dark Lord.

And Voldemort, himself, began to meditate on merging souls again—sometimes he would complain about the mess his predecessor had left him, including Horcruxes.

But think about it, if it wasn't for the Horcruxes, with the ability of the Dark Lord...

There is nothing wrong with him.

……

Manchester, DreamWorks.

"Are you really not going to the press conference?"

Manchester United chairman, Martin Edwards asked for a third time.

"No need, Martin, Pokiss will attend on my behalf." Voldemort said with a smile, and then looked at the young old lord, "Mr. Ferguson, if you have time, can we have a chat?"

"Of course." Ferguson stood up, rubbed his nose with a smile and said, "The league is over, I'm free during this time."

Voldemort nodded, then bid farewell to Edwards and Pokiss, and followed the old sir into his car.

"Where are you going?" the old man asked, turning the steering wheel.

"Is there anyone else in the training ground?" Voldemort asked him. "If there is, let's go for a walk."

"There are a few kids who won the FA Youth Cup last year, and the senior team members are all on vacation." The old man thought for a while and said.

"Then go and see them, Class Ninety-Two, won't you?" asked Voldemort.

The old man nodded, then started the car and drove to the training ground.

"What are you going to do with the 2000 million, Mr. Ferguson?" Voldemort asked casually.

"Just call me Alex, Mr. Quirrell." Ferguson said, "I haven't figured it out yet, that's too much, enough for me to buy a lot of players."

"You can also call me Tom, Alex." After Voldemort finished speaking, he thought for a moment and said, "I still hope you spend the money on infrastructure, Alex, the transfer market costs too much, which is not my intention .”

Ferguson frowned and didn't speak, but Voldemort could already sense his dissatisfaction—the old man's desire to control everywhere...

"I just don't want to break the balance of the football world, Alex, 2000 million a year, hehe, if Manchester United waving money like this, it will make people feel like an upstart." Voldemort explained.

"There is no upstart with a century-old history, Tom, but I understand what you mean, and I will control it." The old man's expression improved a little.

Voldemort decided not to linger on this topic, and began to state the purpose of this visit.

"I have a question to ask you, Alex, it is very important to me." Voldemort said seriously.

The old man glanced at Voldemort and said doubtfully, "Tom, I don't think I can give you any advice on financial management."

"It's not about financial management, Alex, it's about life and death." Voldemort said in a low voice.

The old man was even more puzzled, but he signaled Voldemort to wait a moment, because the car had already arrived at the training base.

He stopped the car, then led Voldemort to the training ground, and saw a few teenagers playing football in the distance.

"Tom, I don't understand what you mean." The old man led Voldemort, walked on an empty court, and asked him, "The battle of life and death... what kind of life and death is it?"

"The kind that draws the sword and sees the blood." Voldemort said, "but it is not a battle between two people, but two forces."

The old man nodded and asked, "I don't know much about this, Tom, I'm just a coach."

"I understand, Alex, but you have a battle every year, don't you?" Voldemort retorted.

The old man was taken aback for a moment, he thought for a while, then nodded, and said, "If you say that, I do have some experience."

"I would like to ask for advice on how to get back on the road after a failed season."

After Voldemort finished speaking, before the old jazz could answer, he spoke again, "Not only himself, but also how to adjust the state of those players. They have experienced failures, and some have even lost their ambitions..."

The old man's eyes became deeper, and he looked at the group of children in the distance, among them was a blond one, who was particularly dazzling.

"I roughly understand what you mean, I think you are after a very, very failed season." The old knight turned his head and looked at Voldemort.

"Yes, very, very failed, almost nothing." Voldemort nodded, tiredness appeared in his eyes.

He never showed a trace of fatigue or lack of confidence in front of the Death Eaters, including Lucius.

Even if he uses ruthlessness and anger to cover up this emotion, he must ensure that he does not infect others with this sense of powerlessness.

Do I have a good hand?
He asked himself this countless times.

Lucius...that was the guy who finally betrayed his family...

Snape... a double agent, and a lover of Dumbledore...

Qi Luo... a child who is not deeply involved in the world, at present, it seems that he cannot take on important responsibilities...

Bella...loyalty and personal ability are commendable, but if entrusted with a heavy responsibility...

Dolokhov... Percy's two uncles, and Lupine in the future, all died at his hands. He was very powerful, but in the big picture...

……

There are too many unreliable ones, and there are only two who can be entrusted with important tasks and are loyal enough:

One is Barty Crouch Jr., who is still developing wretchedly under his father's spell.

One is August Rookwood, who is still in Azkaban because of the betrayal of Igor Karkaroff.

There might be other Death Eaters he wasn't familiar with that were worthy of entrustment, but at least for now it didn't look like there were many options.

In addition to the manpower problem, Dumbledore's pressing every step of the way also made him feel powerless from time to time.

Fighting against adversity is really not as easy as imagined.

"Take it easy, Tom, take it easy." The old man took out a piece of chewing gum from his pocket and said, "Chew a piece, it relieves stress."

Voldemort, who had a tired face, was suddenly amused by his words.

Because in Lin Zuo's memory, there are too many scenes of the old man chewing gum desperately, nervous to death.

Sure enough, the leader was under a lot of pressure.

(End of this chapter)