"Yes, Master!"
Lucas sensed the urgency in Tom Riddle's voice, which made him tense as well. After receiving approval, he hurried to his feet and quickened his pace.
...
Watching Lucas leave, Tom Riddle's browless face betrayed his worry. His unease grew stronger; every minute he remained in this wretched place, his anxiety intensified. When did I fall so low?
"Damn it all!"
It was all Harry Potter's fault! If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened! Another version of himself wouldn't have appeared, Dumbledore would still be alive, and the wizarding world would have fallen into his hands more than a decade ago! That was how the natural timeline should have unfolded! Instead, he was forced to watch a more handsome, stronger, and younger version of himself living the life he most desired, while he could only be hunted like a rat, constantly on the run.
"Merlin... this is all your fault! It's not fair!"
Tom Riddle, face grim, strode away. He was done cursing; it was time to start running. He refused to wait for death; he was definitely not going to die in this lifetime. As long as he could live, he would do anything, even sell his soul—let alone flee or hide. He would even unlock new talents if he had to.
...
"Hurry up! Faster!"
Lucas, carrying a vampire with garlic stuffed in its mouth and nose, yelled at his three henchmen, who were working themselves to the bone hauling magical items and intelligent beings.
The three newly joined Death Eaters, though puzzled, dared not speak under Tom Riddle's intimidating presence, and instead obediently performed their labor. Especially after seeing Tom Riddle approach, they dared not slack off further. They even went so far as to loudly praise Tom Riddle while diligently carrying their loads, led by Lucas.
It was safe to say that anyone targeted by this madman Lucas was hardly normal; they were all "hidden dragons and phoenixes"—highly skilled, but in reality, cunning individuals. You're a perfectly capable wizard, so why not use magic to move things, instead preferring to be a laborer and carry everything on your shoulders? What else could you be but an idiot?
However, Tom Riddle, equally irritable and increasingly agitated by the threat of death, didn't notice this. Instead, he was annoyed by the slow pace of this group of useless individuals.
"A bunch of useless trash! You can't even do this simple thing right!"
Tom Riddle grabbed a steel bar, magically transformed it into a whip, and lashed it across Lucas and the others while angrily beating them. Including Lucas, these four unfortunate souls spent half the time being whipped until they were kneeling or lying down.
Therefore, what should have been a task that would have taken less than an hour—even by physical labor for a wizard—nearly took three hours to complete.
...
The four unfortunate souls, their bodies covered in welts, hastily smeared with dittany, knelt before Tom Riddle.
...
Tom Riddle was furious at these four good-for-nothings; they had wasted so much of his time! And as wizards, they had even forgotten to use magic!
"Utterly useless!"
Clearly, he had selectively forgotten that he had also failed to remind these useless individuals to use magic.
However, no matter how angry he was, Tom Riddle couldn't possibly kill them now. After all, they were still of great use.
Thinking this, Tom Riddle took a deep breath, calming himself down. Then, with a wave of his wand, four identical boxes landed in front of them.
...
The four looked at their own boxes, then at the others' boxes, somewhat confused. But their master was in a fit of rage, and they dared not ask, only exchanging bewildered glances.
Tom Riddle didn't offer any explanation, instead taking out several bottles of potions and handing them to the four. Finally, they heard what they wanted to hear: their master had finally deigned to speak.
"After you drink this Polyjuice Potion, it will transform you into my likeness." Tom Riddle then produced several flying brooms. "Then, each of you take your own box and fly in a different direction. Fly as fast as you can, don't worry about anything else, understand?"
"Understood, Master!"
The four responded hastily and in unison.
"Hmm." Tom Riddle nodded slightly with satisfaction, his mood—which had been squeezed into a pile of explosives—finally improving. "Any questions?"
...
The other three shook their heads. Only one, also a newcomer, looked at the potion in his hand, then at Tom Riddle's bald head and brow ridge. His mouth opened and closed in fear, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.
Noticing this, Tom Riddle frowned slightly. "A question?"
"Sorry, Master! I was just... curious." The foolish subordinate actually asked, "Although I don't know how to brew Polyjuice Potion, I've heard that it requires hair, so I'm a little curious... what kind of hair did Master use?"
!!!
Lucas and the others were terrified and quickly moved away from him, then hurriedly lowered their heads. Even without seeing it, they knew their master's expression was definitely not pleasant; he might even be about to explode, given his already foul mood.
And as they suspected, Tom Riddle was about to explode with rage again.
...
Crucio!!!
The red spell lit up, followed by a scream that echoed all around, "Ah—!"
"I used my fingernails, you idiot!!!"
Tom Riddle repeatedly plunged his wand into the foolish subordinate's temple until the man was almost unconscious from the pain.
...
He glanced silently at Lucas and the others, making sure there were no other idiots before looking away. With a casual wave of his hand, another box and a broom appeared, and Tom Riddle was the first to head outside.
Split into multiple groups, diverting attention, dispersing the pursuers... this is my escape plan!
As for why he didn't use Apparition or prepare a Portkey beforehand, perhaps he simply forgot?
---