On Outreach Day, the sunlight was blindingly bright, completely out of place with the usual gloomy atmosphere of Nevermore Academy.
Students gathered at the academy gates, chattering as they awaited their community service assignments for the day.
Victor looked at the volunteer service sheet he had just received and raised an eyebrow.
"Uriah's Heap?" He scratched his perpetually messy black hair. "Oh, I remember that place... a gloomy corner piled with moldy antiques and suspicious artifacts. My luck has always been rather poor."
He turned his head, glancing at the goth girl standing not far away, radiating an aura that said "strangers keep away."
When he saw the identical volunteer sheet in Wednesday's hand, the corners of his mouth split into a gloating grin.
"Whoa, looks like Miss Wednesday lacks the favor of Lady Luck today as well." He waved his sheet, his tone carrying undisguised teasing.
Wednesday didn't even lift an eyelid, her voice cold as ice: "I never rely on ethereal luck. Thing just informed me that Enid Sinclair has been assigned to 'Pilgrim World'."
She raised her eyes, her dark pupils devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as if merely stating a fact. "I am going to swap with her."
Hearing this, Victor shook his head exaggeratedly, his face written with an expression that said You don't understand.
"I don't think Enid will be willing. She's been going on about Pilgrim World's Rainbow Swirl Fudge for a whole week. Supposedly, you can taste the 'flavor of happiness' in that sugar."
Victor shrugged. "But, good luck. I'll go see if any unlucky soul is willing to swap this 'good' job of 'antique appreciation' with me."
Just as he turned, making a move to walk into the crowd, a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist. The force wasn't strong, but the coldness and resolve of the fingertips transmitted clearly through the fabric.
Wednesday had appeared in front of him at some point. Looking up, her cold gaze, like two poison-dipped daggers, nailed straight into his eyes filled with teasing laughter.
"Do not follow me." Her voice was pitched very low, every word squeezed through gritted teeth. "I do not need protection. Put away your clever little tricks, Victor."
With that, she violently shook off his hand. Her black skirt drew a decisive arc as she walked toward Enid without looking back, leaving Victor standing alone.
Victor watched her retreating figure and let out an exaggerated "Whoa." He rubbed the wrist she had just grabbed; a trace of cold touch seemed to linger there.
"So mean, isn't she?" He seemed to be speaking to the air, or perhaps to himself. "Fine, fine, independent Goth Queen."
The cynical smile on his face slowly faded, and a trace of elusive, complex emotion flashed deep in his eyes, but it was quickly covered by an even thicker smile.
"But I believe," he mumbled softly, his tone carrying a strange certainty, "that one day, Snow White will remember her dear Prince... even if the Prince is a lunatic who comes with a terrifying pet."
"Prince?" Venom's voice rang in his mind, full of merciless mockery.
"Oh, come on, Victor! Wake up! In this kind of fairy tale, the role you usually play is the Demon King who gets beheaded by the hero! And honestly, I think that goth girl is better suited for the role of the 'Evil Queen'—she doesn't even need a poison apple, just look at how she poisons you with her eyes!"
Victor: "..."
He decided to temporarily block the romance-lacking heckler inside him.
---
On the other side, Wednesday precisely located Enid in the crowd, who was excitedly discussing rainbow fudge with her friends.
"Enid." Wednesday's voice was like a cold stream, instantly extinguishing the cheerful atmosphere around Enid.
"Swap with me." She succinctly handed over the volunteer sheet printed with "Uriah's Heap," leaving no room for negotiation, as if issuing a matter-of-course command.
The smile on Enid's face froze instantly. She looked at the volunteer sheet that seemed to emit a moldy smell and shook her head like a rattle drum: "No swap! No way! Uriah's Heap is dark and old and smells weird! I want to go to Pilgrim World to buy rainbow fudge!"
Wednesday remained expressionless, seeming to have anticipated this answer. She naturally withdrew the volunteer sheet and casually dropped a bomb:
"Fine. Then I will have to stay at Uriah's Heap with Victor. I heard there are many corners there. It's quite quiet."
She pronounced the word "quiet" with a meaningful inflection.
The air froze instantly.
The expression on Enid's face shifted from resistance to shock, then to an intense sense of crisis, and finally settled into a do-or-die determination at a speed visible to the naked eye!
She snatched the volunteer sheet from Wednesday's hand almost fast enough to tear the paper.
"Oh! Wednesday! I suddenly feel that the ancient, mysterious antique shop is also very attractive! Full of historical atmosphere!" Enid spoke incoherently, her cheeks flushing red with excitement.
"Thinking carefully, rainbow fudge is too sweet! Bad for teeth! I... I'd better go experience the historical and cultural atmosphere!"
She gripped the swapped volunteer sheet tightly, as if holding a ticket to a happy future, her eyes shining astonishingly bright.
"Oh, Wednesday!" She was so excited she almost wanted to give Wednesday a hug but was pinned in place by a cold glare. "I love you to death! Today! Just today! I feel I can definitely win him over!"
With that, she skipped away quickly like a happy bird, as if afraid Wednesday would change her mind.
Wednesday stood there, looking down at the "Pilgrim World" volunteer sheet in her hand, printed with cartoon fonts and rainbow patterns, which had been forced upon her.
Mission accomplished.
Perfect.
However, for some reason, watching Enid's excited, joyous back, and recalling her phrase "definitely win him over," a tiny, indescribable... irritation flared up in Wednesday's heart.
This emotion was unfamiliar and illogical.
She quickly and crudely attributed this inexplicable unhappiness to her habitual disgust for Enid's love-struck stupidity, and her disdain for having to use such low-level manipulation to achieve her goal.
Yes, that must be it.
She collected her thoughts, carefully folded the gaudy volunteer sheet, and put it in her pocket.
When she looked toward "Pilgrim World" again, she had recovered her absolute calm and focus.
The clue to Joseph Crackstone was there.