Just as Venom was about to bite down—
Bang!
A crisp gunshot rang out from the far distance, piercing the silence of the forest!
Almost simultaneously, a sharp whistle at a specific frequency followed closely, stabbing into the eardrums.
The tendrils Venom had wrapped around the Hyde snapped instantly. The severed black tendrils splashed onto the ground as black sludge, then quickly wriggled back to rejoin the main body.
"Ugh!" Venom let out a muffled grunt. His massive white eyes snapped toward the direction of the attack, rage instantly igniting. "Oh? So you have helpers? I wonder if they taste as good as you?"
He licked the regenerating tendrils, his tone becoming "cheerful" again, but beneath that cheer was icy killing intent.
"What does that whistle mean? Calling the puppy home for dinner?"
However, Victor, inside Venom, felt something was wrong.
The frequency of that whistle triggered an extremely ominous revulsion and alertness from the depths of his memory.
Venom! Watch out! he screamed in his consciousness.
But it was too late.
The tightly bound monster seemed to receive a command. Its throat suddenly convulsed violently and unnaturally, as if something was being forcibly squeezed out from within!
Venom's eyes contracted instantly. He saw the dark little object being spat out.
"Motherf—" Venom only had time to curse once. "Flashbang!"
BOOM—!!!
A violent explosion, loud enough to rupture eardrums, and a blinding light erupted instantly within that small space!
The power of a flashbang isn't physical impact, but a devastating blow to the senses. Furthermore, loud noise was one of Venom's specific weaknesses.
For Venom and Victor, who relied on heightened senses and a stable symbiotic state, this was undoubtedly a precision strike!
"Argh—!" Venom let out a roar of pain and anger. His massive body twisted and fluctuated violently. The black sludge rolled as if boiling, nearly separating from Victor's body!
His form became extremely unstable, his white eyes flickering madly from pain and interference.
In that brief, fatal interval of disruption, the binding force weakened abruptly. The Hyde violently broke free from the remaining tendrils.
Ignoring its lingering injuries, it let out a low growl mixed with pain and relief. With astonishing speed, it turned, crashed through the bushes, and vanished instantly into the dense darkness of the forest.
"Bastard! Don't run!"
Venom tried to pursue, but the intense sonic and light interference persisted, making it difficult to maintain his form. His movements were stumbling and chaotic.
Seconds later, the effect of the flashbang faded.
But the optimal window for pursuit had been missed.
Venom was like a popped balloon. His massive body withered and collapsed rapidly, retracting into Victor like a receding tide, leaving Victor standing alone in the clearing.
Victor's body trembled violently. His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees, supporting himself with his hands. His body twitched uncontrollably, as if he had just borne a massive load.
Silence descended once again on the forest clearing, which now reeked of blood and gunpowder.
There was only the sound of Victor's suppressed, quiet weeping.
Wednesday stood there, watching the thrilling battle—one far beyond normal human comprehension—start abruptly and end just as abruptly.
She looked at Victor's trembling back, hesitated, and finally walked forward stiffly.
She wasn't used to such situations, especially facing a... male who appeared to be crying.
"Are you... alright?" Her voice remained cool, attempting to inject a sliver of comfort, but sounding exceptionally rigid and unnatural.
She reached out and held Victor's shoulder, helping him slowly stand up from the ground.
Victor used her support to turn around, facing her.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating his face.
There were indeed traces of tears on his face, wet and reflecting the faint light.
But that expression...
Those weren't tears shed from pain or sadness.
It was a face twisted by extreme excitement and ecstasy!
A wicked grin stretched almost to his ears. His eyes burned with a scorching, nearly insane light. His cheeks were flushed with an unnatural redness.
That expression, mixed with undried tears, radiated a dangerous and mesmerizing aura that made one inexplicably want to... commit blasphemy.
"Oh, Wednesday..." Victor's voice carried a trembling, ultimate pleasure. He backhanded his grip onto the arm Wednesday was using to support him. The force was a bit uncontrolled, but Wednesday didn't shake him off.
"I knew it... I knew it!" he repeated, his eyes scarily bright. "Even Venom knows to hide chocolate in different places... How could they only have one nest?"
His laughter was husky and free, filled with the wild joy of discovering buried treasure.
"It must be them! Only they would know our weaknesses! Only they would use this... this method!" He pointed to his ears, which were still ringing slightly, his smile growing even brighter.
" wonderful... just wonderful!" He was almost dancing, gripping Wednesday's arm tightly.
"We can play games together again! This time... this time I will definitely find their 'Main Hive'! I'll dig out all the 'chocolates' and eat them!"
His words were manic and erratic, but Wednesday understood.
The people from the lab.
The people in the plague doctor masks.
They had appeared, and in this way, announced their return.
Victor wasn't crying because of failure. He was weeping from excitement because his nemesis had reappeared, because the "game" had restarted.
"Ah~" Victor let out a long, satisfied sigh, as if he had tasted the world's ultimate delicacy.
The unnatural flush on his pale face became even more vivid, his eyes flickering with a sickly, fanatical light.
"It's just too beautiful... Just thinking about the scene gets me so high!"
He stood up abruptly, as if the twitching and weakness just now had never existed. His strength was so great it made Wednesday stumble.
But he didn't let go. Instead, using the momentum, he raised Wednesday's hand high, and his other hand indisputably wrapped around her waist.
There was no music. Only the vague, distant noise of the Harvest Festival and the background sound of blood in the forest.
Victor didn't care. Holding her hand, right there in the clearing where a bloody massacre had just occurred, amidst scattered limbs, he began an elegant and crazy waltz.
His steps were precise and aggressive, guiding Wednesday to spin and twirl. Her black hem fluttered in the cool night breeze.
At this moment, he shed all his silliness and noise. That wicked, dangerous aura—like the abyss itself—poured out unreservedly. Like the strongest poison, it precisely hit a corner deep in Wednesday's heart she hadn't even realized existed.
Wednesday's mind went blank.
She should push him away. She should use the most vicious language to mock this absurd behavior. She should maintain maximum vigilance against his clearly unstable mental state.
But her body followed his lead stiffly, perhaps even obediently.
Her gaze couldn't leave his face—a face mixing madness with ultimate pleasure, tears still wet but smiling with heart-stopping intensity.
This dark quality, this madness dancing gracefully beside a sea of blood and corpses, was like a key that abruptly unlocked her tightly guarded heart.
"Wednesday." Victor's voice dropped low, carrying a magnetic, almost bewitching rasp as he leaned close to her ear.
The voice seemed to carry an electric current, causing even the strong-willed Wednesday to feel a strange tingle shoot down her spine for a split second.
"Academy, prophecies, murder, monsters, puppet masters..." He listed them like a chant, every word striking a chord in Wednesday's heart.
"All these elements combined make for an epic detective novel, don't they?"
His steps slowed to a stop, but the hand around her waist didn't loosen.
He bowed slightly, like a noble gentleman stepping out of the Middle Ages, and extended his hand to Wednesday again, palm up. His eyes were filled with provocative, expectant fire.
"Miss De la Muerte." He pronounced the name clearly.
Wednesday jolted, her pupils contracting slightly.
Viper De la Muerte—this was the name of the protagonist in the detective novel she kept hidden deep in her typewriter manuscripts, never shown to anyone.
A cool, sharp, hyper-intelligent female detective modeled after herself.
How did he know?!
"I think," Victor's smile deepened, as if seeing through all her shock and confusion, his voice like a devil's whisper, "even the most brilliant Holmes needs a Watson who can keep up with his thinking and occasionally bring unexpected surprises, don't you agree?"
He looked at Wednesday, his gaze burning and focused, waiting for her response. It was as if this weren't an invitation to team up issued beside a corpse, but a proposal for a lifetime partnership after a grand ball.
Wednesday looked into those eyes—bottomless yet burning with the same investigative desire and dark excitement as hers. She glanced at Rowan's gruesome remains on the ground, then at the distant lights of the academy.
The escape plan was thoroughly shattered.
But a larger, more complex new "game"—one far more suited to her aesthetic—had already opened its bloody curtains.
And she seemed to have found a... perhaps most unpredictable, but likely most interesting "partner."
Her lips, very slowly and uncontrollably, curved upward in a tiny but incredibly real arc.
She raised her hand and placed her fingertips firmly into his waiting palm.
"You're hired, Watson."
Her voice returned to its usual coldness, but beneath the ice surged an unprecedented, eager undercurrent.
"Yes, Mother. I think... I'm going to love it here."