On the grass, Victor covered his nose, whimpering as he sat there. A trace of red could be seen between his fingers.
Enid was fussing over him, using a handkerchief to wipe his nose. Her tone was full of helpless sympathy: "Oh, Victor... I feel bad for you, but honestly, you totally asked for that."
Victor's eyes were teary—hard to tell if from pain or if he really wanted to cry. His voice was thick with nasal congestion:
"It was nothing like the romantic reunion scene I imagined... I thought at most Wednesday would throw a few venomous words at me, or look at me like I was garbage..."
As he spoke, he launched into a spot-on imitation of Wednesday's usual cold mockery. He lifted his chin, made his eyes vacant, pulled down the corners of his mouth, and said in a monotone:
"Foolish noisy organism, your existence itself is a blasphemy against silence."
His exaggerated imitation made Enid burst out laughing.
Wednesday, standing nearby, silently clenched her fist hard, knuckles making a slight crack. Her dark eyes narrowed dangerously as she seriously considered whether to add another punch to achieve aesthetic symmetry.
Victor continued to whimper and recount his tragic encounters:
"Banned from competing... beaten up... and most importantly... have to write a fifty-thousand-word essay... Fifty thousand words! On proving how explosive chocolate balls are environmentally friendly and harmless! How is that even possible to write!"
Originally just fake crying for sympathy, Victor felt genuine sorrow surge from within at the thought of the massive pressure of that fifty-thousand-word paper.
Fake crying turned into real crying. The more he cried, the sadder he got, until he was bawling loudly, causing other students nearby to look over.
Wednesday watched as more and more curious gazes were drawn by the crying, feeling an unprecedented headache.
This experience of being gawked at like a rare zoo animal was more nauseating than listening to Victor recite ten love poems in a row.
She needed to terminate this public performance immediately. She reached out decisively and pinched Victor's wailing mouth shut.
"Fine," her voice sounded like it was squeezed through grit teeth.
"You win. I will attend the damn celebration party. So, right now, immediately, shut up!"
Victor's voice cut off abruptly.
With his mouth pinched shut, he could only blink his tear-filled eyes and ask incoherently: "Weally? (Really?) No lie? (You're not lying?) Won't run halfway? (You won't run away halfway?)"
Wednesday let go, glancing at him coldly. "I never go back on my word."
Victor's expression cleared instantly. Tears and noseblood still hung on his face, but a huge, overly brilliant smile had already blossomed. The speed of his face-change was staggering.
He even excitedly high-fived Enid next to him: "Yeah!"
Wednesday watched the two celebrating with a high-five and suddenly realized something.
So... I just got played by a lunatic and a sweet fool working together?
This feeling... is unprecedentedly absurd.
...
The victory party was just as terrible as Wednesday had predicted.
Sickly sweet chocolate cake that could almost choke you to death.
Cheap, unlimited beer.
Stupid, tacky colored streamers.
Floating everywhere, annoying in quantity, garishly colored balloons.
And... two drunks!
That night, Wednesday expended immense effort to drag the two drunks (Victor and Enid), who were clinging to her like octopuses, back to the dorm.
"Venom," she panted, speaking to Victor's limp body, "can't you help a little?"
Venom slowly popped a head out of Victor's shoulder. His entire form was droopy, his long tongue lolling out, eyes glazed: "Huh? Er... I'm so full... chocolate... dizzy..."
"Never mind," Wednesday pressed the black blob back into Victor expressionlessly. "Go back to sleep."
Two drunks were enough for her; she didn't need a drunk symbiote adding to the burden.
Wednesday struggled for a while before finally dumping both of them onto Enid's bed. Her own bed was sacred and inviolable.
She looked at the two guys almost entangled on the bed, and for some reason, felt it was particularly eyesores.
Frowning, she forcibly pried Victor out of Enid's arms and dragged him to his own small bed next to the toilet door.
"Phew..." After doing all this, for some reason, she felt her mood lighten inexplicably.
Wednesday nodded with satisfaction, turned, and walked out of the dorm.
The cool night breeze blew past. She took a deep breath, completely shutting out the noise and sweetness behind her.
Time to investigate the newly obtained clue.
"Snap twice..." She whispered the answer to the riddle, her gaze turning to the silent bronze statue of Edgar Allan Poe in the moonlight.
Ten minutes later...
Well, there are two pieces of good news and one piece of bad news.
Wednesday thought to herself while bound to a hard wooden chair by cold, rough ropes.
The primary good news was that she had successfully solved the riddle of the Edgar Allan Poe statue.
Ten minutes ago, when she snapped her fingers precisely twice under the moonlight, the weathered bronze statue emitted a faint sound of gears turning and moved aside quietly, revealing a narrow entrance to the hidden library section.
In that secret chamber smelling of old paper and dust, she found the book with the archaic binding and deep purple cover as she wished—the elegant yet deadly Nightshade emblem clearly embossed on the front.
Tucked between the pages was the other prophecy drawing she had been looking for.
Another piece of good news that couldn't be ignored: this secret chamber seemed to have owners, and she, as an intruder, had been kidnapped.
While a nightmare for most, for her, it was a rare and novel experience.
Being blindfolded, bound... this situation full of uncertainty gave her a rare sense of pleasure, like tasting a dark cuisine with a unique flavor.
She even secretly hoped the kidnappers would show some professional competence to make this game more interesting.
However, the bad news shattered this expectation—her kidnappers were not the skilled psychopathic killers she imagined, but a group of high school clowns led by Bianca Barclay.
The tying technique was crude and amateurish. The knots lacked technical content and failed to even effectively restrict her blood circulation.
This amateur level disappointed her greatly, like being invited to a high-class ball only to find everyone square dancing.
Even more depressing was that this group chose dramatic Venetian masks for disguise, only adding to the ridicule.
Honestly, she shouldn't have let Bianca and the others take off their masks.
Although she had recognized them by their pathetic disguises long ago, keeping the masks on would at least maintain a shred of pitiful mystery, adding a bit of depth to this clumsy performance, wouldn't it?
When Xavier—the "Da Vinci" who had tried to get close to her the second day she transferred—cleared his throat and proposed inviting her to join the "Nightshades," Wednesday finally couldn't take it anymore.
Join this so-called elite social club? Listen to that—elite? Social? God, this is more torturous than listening to Victor recite love poems for ten hours straight.
She would rather accompany that lunatic to ten more sickeningly sweet parties.
Not to mention when Xavier added that the Nightshades were the club her parents, Gomez and Morticia, used to belong to—Wednesday felt her stomach churn.
This made it even more unacceptable.
She stood up briskly, easily shaking off the technically devoid knots she had untied five minutes ago.
She casually slapped the rope onto a "kidnapper" who, for some reason, insisted on wearing a cheap Venetian mask until now.
The moment her palm touched the person's shoulder, Wednesday froze.
An extremely familiar, sickly sweet yet slightly bitter scent of chocolate, mixed with the faint smell of fermented alcohol, radiated from this "kidnapper."
"Victor?" Wednesday frowned, her tone carrying a trace of incredulous suspicion.
"Surprise!" the person responded cheerfully, deftly taking off the mask.
Victor Black's face was revealed. His cheeks were flushed from intoxication, and those eyes that usually danced with manic light were a bit glazed now, but his smile was incredibly brilliant.