The Black Cat squad had achieved an overwhelming victory.
When Principal Weems placed the antique-looking championship trophy into Enid's hands, the little werewolf was so excited she almost bounced out of her skin.
She threw her arms around Victor's neck, laughing joyfully, her face radiating pure, brilliant happiness.
The Principal had prepared a customary closing speech about "friendship, hard work, and showcasing extraordinary traits," but the words stuck in her throat.
Recalling the explosions on the lake that rivaled the Normandy landings, the boats split in two, and the grinning culprits standing before her, she simply couldn't bring herself to utter those dignified phrases.
What the hell kind of good traits does this demonstrate? Nevermore students' excellent battlefield survival skills or counter-terrorism response capabilities?
She cleared her throat, her gaze sweeping the crowd before finally settling on Victor. Her voice was steady but carried undeniable authority: "Given certain... 'special circumstances' that occurred during this year's competition."
She emphasized the phrase deliberately. "To ensure the safety and sustainability of future events, I hereby announce two new rules starting from the next Poe Cup."
"First, the use of any form of thermal weaponry and high-explosives is strictly prohibited."
"Second," her gaze pinned Victor like an ice pick, "Mr. Victor Black, you are permanently banned from participating."
"What?! This is dictatorship! Tyranny! The strangulation of the spirit of innovation!" Victor jumped up immediately to protest, his face a mask of exaggerated grief and indignation.
Principal Weems merely raised an eyebrow, her tone almost gentle: "Furthermore, Mr. Black, I am quite interested in those 'environmentally friendly and harmless' little toys of yours."
"Please submit a research paper of no less than fifty thousand words, exhaustively demonstrating their safety and environmental impact. If the paper fails," she smiled slightly, "you will rewrite it until I am satisfied."
Victor petrified on the spot, his expression as if struck by lightning.
When he finally reacted to this bolt from the blue, he immediately prepared to launch into his "tavern speech" against tyranny, trying to incite the masses:
"I don't think the world should be like this, folks! Are you going to watch helplessly as our freedoms are nibbled away? Today they ban me and my toys, tomorrow they could..."
Before he could finish, Enid swiftly covered his mouth, forcefully stuffing back even more outrageous words. She smiled awkwardly at the Principal while dragging the muffled, struggling Victor out of the crowd.
"A pity," Wednesday commented expressionlessly from the side. "I was somewhat interested in the content of his speech."
The other still-shaken contestants nearby revealed looks of schadenfreude. It wasn't that they were petty; it was just that Victor wasn't human!
Thinking back now, they were still terrified—
When they had finally escaped the grenade bombardment and swum exhaustedly toward shore, that troll Victor had actually remote-controlled his motorized wooden crocodile head into the water!
Seeing that hideous crocodile head swimming slowly and silently toward them, everyone's blood had run cold! The psychological damage was worse than the explosions!
---
The post-race celebration party was held on the lakeside lawn.
Food, drinks, and laughter filled the air; the atmosphere of surviving a disaster was particularly lively.
Enid clung to Victor's arm almost constantly, as if afraid he would go cause some earth-shattering destruction the moment she let go.
After venting completely on the Black Lake, she seemed much bolder. Even so, hugging Victor's arm like this and feeling the warmth from it made her heart beat like a drum. This was currently the absolute limit of her courage.
She also secretly regretted: Why did I only kiss his cheek in that most impulsive, excited moment on the lake? Why didn't I dare to be a little bolder...
Wednesday stayed alone, far from the noisy crowd.
The gazes directed at her—mixed with smiles, greetings, encouragement, and even awe—made her feel extremely uncomfortable.
She walked slowly to a relatively secluded corner of the campus and sat down beneath a bronze statue of Edgar Allan Poe.
A cool breeze blew past, but she felt inexplicably irritable.
Images from the Black Lake played uncontrollably in her mind—Enid grabbing Victor's bell collar and kissing his cheek with wild impulse.
A strange, cold, yet slightly stinging sensation, like invisible claws, gently gripped her heart.
A complex, dark emotion she had never felt before spread quietly in her heart, feeling unfamiliar and... uncomfortable.
Perhaps during the next counseling session, I can ask that incompetent shrink.
Wednesday let her thoughts wander aimlessly and subconsciously looked up.
Her gaze swept over the details of the Poe statue—the literary giant held a symbolic book in his hands.
The next second, Wednesday's pupils contracted sharply, all distractions instantly cleared!
She stood up abruptly, staring intently at the cover of the book on the statue.
Carved there was the symbol she had been painstakingly searching for with no results—the elegant yet deadly Nightshade emblem!
Ever since obtaining the clue of the purple book with the Nightshade watermark from her vision, she had been searching for it.
But after days of investigation, the only gain was learning from Ms. Thornhill that the symbol was related to the long-disbanded secret society, the "Nightshades."
Beyond that, nothing.
She hadn't expected the clue to stand here quietly and openly, waiting to be discovered by someone who truly understood its meaning.
Cold excitement instantly replaced all chaotic emotions.
The corner of Wednesday's mouth curled up extremely slowly into a genuine, hunter-like arc.
The game had entered a new stage.
Edgar Allan Poe was famous for his love of riddles.
Wednesday focused on the book in the statue's hands. Several lines of tiny text were carved on it, an obscure riddle:
The opposite of the moon.
The world between us.
Two months before June.
A self-seeding flower.
One more than one.
Leaves weeping to the ground.
Melting in the sun.
Its beginning and end cannot be found.
Every rule has one.
Edgar Allan Poe, this is probably your cleverest work yet.
Wednesday's lips quirked slightly. This wasn't a single riddle; rather, each line was an independent riddle.
Her brain spun rapidly like the most precise code-breaking machine:
The opposite of the moon. - Sun
The world between us. - Nether
Two months before June. - April
A self-seeding flower. - Pansy
One more than one. - Two
Leaves weeping to the ground. - Willow
Melting in the sun. - Ice
Its beginning and end cannot be found. - Circle
Every rule has one. - Exception
She quickly arranged the first letters of the answers in her mind: S-N-A-P-T-W-I-C-E.
Snap twice.
Just as a cold, knowing arc formed on Wednesday's lips, before she could digest the meaning of this instruction, she heard Victor's voice from afar, dragged out with exaggerated enthusiasm, piercing the evening air:
"Wednesdaaaay—! Queeeeen—! Captain—! Come to the celebration party—! There's delicious chocolate caaaake—!"
Listening to Victor's operatic tone, Wednesday's eyelid twitched uncontrollably.
Celebration party? Cake? And Victor?
Combined, these three words sounded like the perfect forecast for a disaster.
Rather than attend that sickly sweet, headache-inducingly loud "disaster site," she would rather...
Wednesday's steps halted abruptly, as if pricked by an invisible needle.
She even subconsciously, incredulously slapped her own forehead.
Damn it! The superior option my subconscious just compared it to was... actually kissing Victor?!
Hell! This is more unbearable than psychic-viewing ten boring murder cases in a row!
She shook her head violently, trying to expel that outrageously absurd image from her mind completely.
"Found you, Captain~"
A laughing voice suddenly rang out from extremely close range.
Without warning, Victor hung upside down from above—from the shoulder of the Poe statue—his hair falling down. His grinning face appeared suddenly right in front of Wednesday, their noses almost touching.
Wednesday could even clearly smell the sweet, lingering scent of chocolate on him.
Extreme shock, and perhaps a trace of lingering embarrassment and anger over that terrible comparison, caused Wednesday's brain to go blank for a split second.
Before her reason could react, her body executed the most instinctual, battle-hardened defensive response—
A right hook, carrying the sound of breaking wind, smashed solidly into Victor's face, which was written all over with "prank successful"!
"OWWW—!!!"
A shrill scream pierced the tranquil evening sky of Nevermore Academy, startling a flock of crows resting in the distant woods.
...