Head down.
The man and the Basilisk faced each other for a long time, until Tom spoke first, ready to strike if the Basilisk didn't obey his command.
At this moment, the Basilisk obediently lowered its head slowly, retracting its attacking posture.
"Slytherin... descendant... mark... obey..."
Hearing the Basilisk's words, Tom's heart sank; the best and worst-case scenario he had anticipated had come to pass.
The good news was that the Basilisk obeyed his commands, so he didn't have to fight it to the death.
The bad news was that Tom's existence was indeed connected to Slytherin, or rather, his descendant.
Tom knew his own situation; from birth until last summer, he had never displayed magic abilities, and even Parseltongue only appeared after the system was activated.
Aside from having the exact same name and appearance as Lord Voldemort, he couldn't think of any other connection to Slytherin. As for being Lord Voldemort's offspring, Tom thought anyone who believed that was crazy; Voldemort would absolutely not name his offspring Tom Riddle, and given his character, he would surely change the surname to Gaunt.
So, what caused Tom's existence to be linked to Slytherin?
Transmigration? System? Planar doppelganger? The influence of a Horcrux fragment? Or just simple Parseltongue?
There were too many possibilities, and Tom couldn't deduce anything without clues.
At this point, Tom recalled another matter that, the more he thought about it afterward, the more he realized something was off. When he was looking for the ring in the Gaunt Shack, he initially thought Lord Voldemort had gone mad and left it unprotected. However, upon careful reflection, even if Voldemort had gone mad, he wouldn't have been so careless. Now, it seemed his smooth entry into the Gaunt Shack without triggering any protective measures, just like today, was inextricably linked to Tom himself.
Shaking his head vigorously to clear the chaotic thoughts, Tom knew it was pointless to dwell on this now. Besides, being connected to Slytherin or Lord Voldemort might not be a bad thing; at least his appearance was good, and the Basilisk was obedient.
"Close your eyes, turn your head away."
After giving the command to the Basilisk, Tom waited for a moment, and only when he heard movement did he slowly open his eyes.
What met his gaze was the Basilisk's turned head, tightly closed eyes, and massive body.
Excellent, now it was Tom's turn to show his skill.
"Aguamenti!"
Under Tom's full power, a massive stream of water thoroughly drenched the Basilisk's huge body from head to tail.
"Be good, don't move."
The Basilisk, drenched by the water, immediately started to struggle but quieted down again upon hearing Tom's command.
"Scourgify!"
The powerful Scouring Charm, combined with the Aguamenti Charm, washed away the years of accumulated grime from the Basilisk's body, as well as the lingering smell of dead rats.
Looking at the Basilisk's body, which had regained its luster and was as dark green as jade, Tom felt it was finally right. After all, as a pet, its appearance couldn't be too shabby.
"Behave well next time too."
A vision of an exquisite bracelet appeared in Tom's mind, and he waved his wand, casting a spell on the Basilisk.
"Hiss!"
"Huh, why is it so ugly? Did the Transfiguration fail? I feel like I've let Professor McGonagall down. Never mind, continue."
After casting a healing spell on the Basilisk, Tom waved his wand again.
"Hiss!"
"Why does it look so awkward? Did it fail again? Is Professor McGonagall's teaching problematic? Next time, I'll ask Dumbledore to teach a class instead."
Again, Tom cast a healing spell on the Basilisk and waved his wand repeatedly.
"Hiss!"
"* * *, is my Transfiguration really that bad? This is all the fault of nose-less Voldemort."
Thus, the Basilisk was tormented by Tom, from life to death, and from death to life, half-dead and half-alive, several times before it finally settled quietly on his right wrist, transformed into a bracelet alongside Cassandra's bracelet.
"I knew it; my Transfiguration couldn't be that bad."
After admiring the Basilisk, now a bracelet, Tom turned and loudly called out to Cassandra and Draco.
"Hey, Cassandra, Draco, it's alright. You can open your eyes and come over now."
Hearing Tom's call, Cassandra and Draco opened their eyes and cautiously, little by little, moved slowly towards Tom.
They looked around for a moment and asked in confusion, "Where's the Basilisk?"
Tom proudly raised his right hand and showed them the new bracelet: "Look, it's here."
Cassandra said incredulously, "You turned the Basilisk into a bracelet and are carrying it with you!"
Draco's face turned even paler from fright: "So, I have to sleep in the same dormitory as a Basilisk every night?"
Tom solemnly promised, "Don't worry, my Transfiguration is excellent; nothing will go wrong."
"..."
Cassandra and Draco, for once, showed an expression of distrust towards Tom.
They had both heard the Basilisk's screams earlier. Although they didn't know what Tom had done, they instinctively felt it was related to his Transfiguration.
As Cassandra and Draco considered Tom to be 'Dark Lord,' they could unconditionally trust him with Dark Arts, curses, Potions, hexes, and alchemy, but Transfiguration... that seemed to be Dumbledore's domain.
Cassandra even tentatively suggested, "Why don't we ask Dumbledore to check it once we get out?"
Tom's heart was severely pricked.
Seeing this, Draco quickly changed the subject: "What do we do next? And what about this rooster?"
"Of course, we eat first. After such a long delay, I'm starving."
As Tom spoke, he pulled out pots, bowls, ladles, a stove, a spatula, a table, small stools, and various seasonings and side dishes. The completeness of his preparations left Cassandra and Draco dumbfounded.
Draco swallowed, unable to resist asking, "Why did you prepare all these things?"
Tom pointed at the rooster in Draco's hand as if it were the most obvious thing: "To eat chicken, of course."
"...But I don't know how to kill a chicken!"
Draco said, looking at Cassandra, questioning her with his eyes, 'And you?'
Cassandra spread her hands: "I don't either."
Tom watched their interaction and sighed: "I'll do it."
With that, he took the rooster from Draco's hand, and a green light flashed, and it instantly died without a sound. Then, he bled it, plucked its feathers, removed its entrails, and butchered it in one smooth motion.
Tom even cast spells while lecturing the two standing beside him: "Small animals killed with the Killing Curse best preserve the original flavor of the food, and the meat is even more tender."
This entire process made Cassandra and Draco break out in cold sweat, feeling like they were going crazy, with an urge to run away.
But when Tom heated oil in the pot, sautéed green onions, ginger, and garlic until fragrant, and then added the chicken pieces to stir-fry, the two had already given up the idea of escaping.
When Tom added cooking wine, chicken essence, salt, Sichuan peppercorns, and dried chilies to stir-fry until fragrant, the two had already begun to unconsciously swallow their saliva.
When Tom added water, brought it to a boil over high heat, then reduced it to low, and added sweet bean paste, green peppers, and bird's eye chilies to continue stir-frying, the two were already squatting by the pot, eagerly waiting for the meal to be served.
After Tom plated the food and brought out three bottles of drinks, the two ravenous individuals began to scramble for food, forgetting all decorum. Unable to handle spicy food, their faces were red and sweating, but their hands didn't stop. They ate while drinking, and if anyone saw the Slytherin young master and young lady behaving like this, their jaws would surely drop.
Draco even praised repeatedly: "As expected of a rooster killed with the Killing Curse, oh, it's so delicious!"
Tom, on the other hand, declared that it was indeed his cooking, and it would have been even better with rice.