Quirrell stood frozen outside Spinner's End 102, convinced he had made some kind of mistake.
"Master… are you sure this is the place?"
"Could the original location have moved after all these years?"
But Voldemort replied calmly,
"No mistake. This is the place."
Quirrell fell silent.
The Dark Lord's final trump card…
was a cross-dressing strip club?
What in Merlin's name was this?!
But after a moment, Quirrell's Ravenclaw-trained brain suddenly sparked with inspiration.
Wait.
No normal person would willingly come to a place like this.
Which meant—
Aurors would rarely investigate it.
Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix certainly wouldn't come anywhere near it either.
In other words…
this was the perfect cover for a secret base.
Quirrell instantly understood.
Of course!
How could a location Voldemort regarded as his "final method" truly be something so ridiculous?
This had to be a hidden Death Eater stronghold.
Or perhaps some ancient secret society!
Maybe Voldemort himself had once belonged to this mysterious organization before leaving over some internal conflict.
And now—
the hidden organization was finally about to reveal itself once more!
Filled with confidence in his deduction, Quirrell strode inside.
The interior was a complete nightmare.
Smoke.
Alcohol.
Half-dressed wizards dancing obscenely on stage.
Quirrell nearly threw up after a single glance.
Yet strangely enough, this only reinforced his belief.
Exactly!
A place so revolting normal people couldn't tolerate it was the perfect disguise for an ancient secret society!
Somewhere among these people might be hidden monsters who had lived for centuries.
Perhaps legendary dark wizards lost to history!
Quirrell lowered his voice.
"Master… what do I do?"
Voldemort's tone turned strange.
"See the person dancing on stage?"
"Of course."
"Good."
"Go to the stage."
Heart pounding, Quirrell pushed through the crowd until he reached the front.
"And then?"
Voldemort answered coldly.
"Jump onto the stage."
"Knock him out."
"Strip off his costume."
Quirrell blinked.
Was this some sort of initiation ritual?
Fine.
He'd do it!
In the next instant, Quirrell leapt onto the stage.
A Stunning Spell blasted the dancer unconscious.
Ignoring the horrified screams around him, Quirrell hurriedly stripped the costume off the fallen wizard.
Voldemort sounded unusually approving.
"Excellent."
"Very excellent, Quirrell."
"Your talent exceeds even my expectations."
Quirrell clenched his fists excitedly.
Then came Voldemort's next instruction.
"Put the costume on."
"Now twist your hips."
"Left three times."
"Right three times."
"The movements must be seductive."
"Yes… excellent."
"You're far more talented than I expected."
Quirrell didn't understand the purpose behind any of this.
But since Voldemort insisted, there had to be deeper meaning behind it all.
Surely this was some secret society ritual.
Perhaps it symbolized abandoning shame in pursuit of ultimate power.
Yes.
That had to be it.
Finally, after Quirrell's movements became increasingly "graceful," the crowd below erupted into whistles and cheers.
Then Voldemort gave the final command.
"Take off your pants."
"Spin in circles."
"And while spinning, shout—"
"Big Bird Spin!"
Quirrell's mind went blank.
"…What?"
"What kind of human language is that?!"
"In public?!"
But Voldemort shouted inside his head,
"Quirrell!"
"This sacrifice is necessary for greatness!"
"Think about how much you've already given up!"
"For the greater good!"
Quirrell closed his eyes in despair.
Fine.
Fine!
If this was truly the price for ultimate power—
then he would pay it!
The next second—
"BIG BIRD SPIN!"
The entire club exploded into thunderous applause.
Coins rained onto the stage.
Then a heavy money pouch flew toward him.
An elderly wizard grinned wickedly.
"He's mine."
Quirrell smiled in relief.
He passed the test.
The organization had accepted him.
Surely the members were now fighting over which faction he would join—
But then Voldemort spoke again.
"Excellent!"
"That old man is the patriarch of an ancient family!"
"He definitely has valuable treasures at home!"
"Quirrell, your sacrifice was worth it!"
"As long as you please him, we can take everything we need from his family vaults!"
Quirrell froze.
"…What?"
"What did you just say?"
Voldemort sounded confused.
"What part didn't you understand?"
Quirrell's face turned deathly pale.
"This isn't a secret society?"
"This really is a strip club?!"
"I didn't just complete an initiation ritual—"
"I ACTUALLY PERFORMED A STRIP SHOW FOR A GROUP OF PERVERTS?!"
"VOLDEMORT, I'LL KILL YOU!"
"You control my body all the time!"
"If you're so capable, why didn't you do it yourself?!"
Even Voldemort sounded slightly guilty.
"Guiding you to dance and dancing myself are completely different things."
"Besides…"
"You've already danced."
"If we don't get the valuables now, then your humiliation will truly have been for nothing."
At that moment, Quirrell suddenly widened his eyes in horror.
The elderly wizard had already grabbed him and started dragging him away.
And judging by where the old man's hand was holding—
Quirrell's scream echoed through his own mind.
"VOLDEMORT!!!"
"You'd better remember this!"
"When you return to power, if you don't make me a core Death Eater and murder everyone here—"
"I'M TELLING THE ENTIRE WIZARDING WORLD WHAT HAPPENED TONIGHT!!!"
…
Meanwhile, inside the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion—
Theodore slowly opened his eyes.
Exhaustion lingered across his face, but joy shone in his gaze.
The Divine Dao technique was complete.
Crude, yes.
But functional.
As long as enough wish power existed, cultivation speed would become terrifying.
Naturally, Theodore himself had no intention of practicing it.
And among the people around him, he still hadn't found anyone truly suitable for the Divine Dao.
After a moment of thought, Theodore raised his hand.
A statue with blurred facial features appeared within the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion.
The countless streams of wish power immediately began flowing into it.
"For now, this statue can collect the wish power."
"If I eventually find a suitable cultivator, the statue can take on their appearance and all accumulated wish power can be transferred to them."
"And if no suitable person is ever found…"
"Then perhaps, after gathering enough wish power, the statue itself may eventually develop divinity and become a true god."
Suddenly—
the system interface exploded with ancient chaotic text.
[You have gathered the wishes of all living beings and touched upon the Divine Dao.]
[Your actions interfere with the plans of the Saints. The heavens rage in fury!]
Theodore's eyes instantly brightened.
The hidden Old Ones behind the magical world…
were angry?
Good.
Very good!
"Hurry."
"Come down here."
"It's been so long since I last saw one of you."
He could already sense traces of maddening aura appearing throughout the magical world.
Just like before Dagon's projection descended.
Theodore licked his lips.
"Come on."
"Hurry up."
"I'm your biggest fan."
"Your tentacles are so beautiful."
"Your eyes are so mesmerizing."
"Can't you let me admire you one more time?"
Yet the more enthusiastically Theodore called out—
the faster those maddening auras retreated.
Within moments, they vanished entirely.
Theodore clicked his tongue in disappointment.
"Tch."
"A bunch of cowards."
He sneered.
If an Old One truly descended in person right now, even partially, it would indeed be troublesome.
The difference in raw power was still enormous.
At best, Theodore could rely on Blood Rebirth to escape.
But now?
The Old Ones didn't even dare send projections anymore.
Which only gave Theodore more time to grow.
At his cultivation speed, with every passing second, he advanced toward a level the Old Ones themselves would eventually fail to comprehend.
The so-called "return of the ancient era" was no longer a threat.
It was becoming Theodore's triumphant overture.
"The wrath of the Old Ones?"
"That's all?"
Then Theodore's gaze shifted toward the supreme musical Dao divine ability listed in the system.
Fuxi's Heavenly Sound.
Now that he possessed the talent Sound That Stuns the Clouds, along with the remains of the Willow Immortal before its transformation, he finally had the materials necessary to forge a proper zither.
Which meant—
it was finally time to study this supreme divine ability.
The next moment, Theodore immersed his consciousness within the technique.
A boundless primordial figure appeared before him.
The figure stood atop a colossal tree so vast it seemed capable of supporting heaven and earth themselves.
Theodore's heart trembled violently.
"That is…"
"The World Tree?"
"Fuxi?!"
At that moment, the figure of Fuxi seemed to sense Theodore's gaze.
He turned slightly.
Then—
his fingers plucked the strings.
The heavens shook.
The earth trembled.
The sound of the zither echoed through eternity itself.
Fuxi's Heavenly Sound.
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