In the Moonlight Courtyard, over a dozen werewolf students sat cross-legged on the grass.
Vic squeezed in eagerly next to Enid, with Venom wriggling excitedly on his shoulder: "Finally, I get to see a werewolf transformation!"
Professor Grayback—a grey-haired professor wearing a monocle—adjusted his glasses and opened a heavy, ancient tome.
"Today's topic is 'The History of Werewolf Social Structure and Territorial Awareness Development.'"
"Huh?" Vic and Venom tilted their heads in unison.
Five minutes later.
"...During the Third Full Moon War, the urine-marking method of Alpha wolves underwent a revolutionary breakthrough..."
Grayback's voice was like a pot of overcooked oatmeal, sticky and clinging to the air. Vic's eyes began to blink uncontrollably, and his head felt like it was filled with lead as it drooped downward—
*Thump*.
His forehead gently rested against Enid's shoulder.
"Hey!" Enid instinctively tried to push him away, but her fingers froze just as they touched his black hair.
He had fallen asleep.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, dappling Vic's eyelashes.
Without his usual exaggerated expressions and noisy mouth, his sleeping face was unexpectedly... handsome.
The curve of his nose seemed meticulously carved, his lips slightly parted, his breath brushing against her collarbone, carrying a faint scent of chocolate.
Enid's face flushed bright red in an instant.
"Sinclair!" Grayback suddenly called her name, "Please recount the scent etiquette in werewolf diplomacy!"
"Huh?" Enid sat up abruptly. Vic slid onto her lap with the movement, letting out a muffled murmur.
The eyes of every werewolf in the class shot toward them.
"I, I mean..." Enid stammered, her fingers unconsciously twirling a strand of Vic's hair, "Using the third nail of the left front paw dipped in saliva..."
"Wrong! It's the right paw!" Grayback slammed the lectern angrily. Vic nuzzled against Enid's leg and continued sleeping soundly.
Venom quietly slipped out from Vic's sleeve and whispered in Enid's ear: "Want to hear about how he wet the bed until he was five?"
"Yes." Enid whispered, her face still red, her right hand somehow already holding Vic's.
Half an hour later, the theory class finally ended.
"Practical session." Grayback removed his jacket, revealing a torso covered in scars, "Observe my transformation process."
Vic suddenly woke up, his eyes shining like searchlights: "Whoa! Rated-R content!"
Grayback's bones began to twist, and fur sprouted wildly from beneath his skin. Just as he was about to complete the transformation—
"Professor!" Vic suddenly raised his hand, "When you transform without clothes, does that mean you're streaking in front of the entire school?"
The entire courtyard fell deathly silent.
Grayback froze in place, a human-like flush appearing on his half-human, half-wolf face.
"You..." His voice seemed squeezed through gritted teeth.
"And also!" Vic continued digging his own grave, "Do your pants rip during the transformation? If you wore stretchy underwear, would it—"
"GET OUT!!!!"
Grayback smashed the lectern with one swipe of his claw. Amid the flying splinters, Vic was grabbed by the professor and hurled in a parabolic arc toward the courtyard gate.
"Wait, I haven't finished asking—"
*BANG!*
The gate slammed shut violently, Vic's face pressed against the door as he slid down slowly.
Venom emerged from his collar: "Congratulations, you've set the record for the fastest expulsion from werewolf class."
From behind the door came Enid's scream: "Vic, are you okay?!"
And Grayback's roar: "Sinclair! Sit down! From now on, bringing your partner to werewolf class is forbidden."
Expelled from the werewolf class, Vic wandered the academy corridors, with Venom draped lazily around his neck like a scarf.
"Where to now? Peek at the sirens bathing?" Venom suggested.
"Too lowbrow." Vic waved his hand dismissively, "I've got a better idea—"
Just then, the door to the Infirmary not far away opened.
Wednesday Addams walked out, the black hair on her forehead slightly disheveled, the edge of a bandage faintly visible. Her fingers pressed lightly against her temple, seeming somewhat irritated.
The perfect target for a prank.
Vic grinned, tiptoeing closer, preparing to startle her from behind—
And then he stepped on his own untied shoelace.
"Whoaaaa—!"
He lunged forward, his hands instinctively pushing out—
Wednesday was shoved forward abruptly, stumbling a few steps before steadying herself. The moment she turned around, her pupils constricted sharply.
*BOOM!!!*
A heavy Gargoyle sculpture crashed down from the roof, landing precisely where Vic had been standing moments before—or rather, where *she* had been standing a few seconds ago.
Dust billowed.
Wednesday stood still, her fingers trembling slightly.
"That idiot... was he crushed into paste?"
"I should be glad."
"Why... is it a little hard to breathe?"
Wednesday stared at the mangled form beneath the rubble pile, suddenly realizing her molars were clenched so tightly it hurt—this physiological reaction wasn't documented in her *Human Anatomy* notes.
"Wednesday! Look out! Huh?"
Xavier rushed out from around the corner, freezing mid-action as if about to tackle Wednesday.
Earlier, from not far away, he had also spotted the precarious sculpture about to fall on Wednesday.
He looked at the rubble pile and Wednesday beside it. It seemed Wednesday didn't need saving, but the other guy was probably dead.
Suddenly, from within the rubble pile, came an exaggerated wail:
"Ow! My butt!!!"
Venom's voice came from under the debris: "Stop acting. When those mad scientists cut you into four pieces for experiments last time, you didn't scream this pitifully."
The rubble was pushed aside by a surge of black ooze. Vic staggered to his feet—his body was nearly smashed in two, his lower half twisted at a grotesque angle.
Xavier gasped sharply.
Then, under the gaze of both, Vic's wounds began to writhe, his bones emitting a series of "crack-crack" resetting sounds. His muscles and skin healed at a visible rate. In less than ten seconds, he patted the dust off his clothes as if nothing had happened.
"Whoa!" He twisted his waist, "Healed faster than last time!"
Dead silence.
Wednesday's expression seemed frozen, her lips pressed into a pale line.
Vic suddenly leaned close to her, tilting his head: "Were you... worried about me just now?"
"Preposterous." Wednesday's voice was colder than ice, "I was merely calculating whether the Gargoyle's falling trajectory conformed to the parabolic formula."
"Oh?" Vic pointed at her fingers with a grin, "Then why are you trembling?"
Wednesday abruptly hid her hands behind her back.
Xavier finally found his voice: "You... what exactly are you?"
"Me? No, no, no. I should say, *we*, sir. We are—" Vic spread his arms wide, as Venom's ferocious face, baring two rows of sharp teeth, covered half of his own, "Venom!"
Wednesday turned and walked away, her black school uniform billowing like storm clouds before a tempest.
"Hey! Wednesday!" Vic called after her, "You haven't answered my question yet!"
Her footsteps paused for a moment. Without turning her head, she tossed back a sentence:
"If you ask such idiotic questions again, I will personally test the limits of your regeneration."
But the tips of her ears... seemed slightly red. Her fingers, hidden beneath her black uniform, secretly dug into her palm, using the pain to suppress a strange, writhing emotion akin to Venom.
She didn't understand this emotion, the searing heat rising in her heart—like holding a scalpel over an alcohol lamp for too long.
Vic glanced back at the Gargoyle sculpture on the ground. Its falling trajectory really didn't seem right. What was the parabolic formula again? πr squared? Ah, forget it, not worth thinking about.
Vic followed Wednesday back to the dormitory with a grin, bouncing along, clearly in high spirits.
Back in the dorm, urged by Venom, Vic fished out numerous chocolates from the toilet tank.
Then Vic just sat on the dormitory floor, pouring chocolate into Venom's "mouth."
"Oh, my head is so dizzy."
Venom swayed its head, slowly turning into a puddle of sludge-like black ooze, occasionally burping chocolate-scented bubbles.
Vic tore open a chocolate wrapper and ate it, his eyes lighting up: "Awesome, liqueur-filled chocolates. Little Wolf Girl has good taste."
"Mmm... Vic is an idiot..." Venom slurred drunkenly, "Every time you regenerate, it uses up my chocolate reserves... making me starve..."
Wednesday's right hand, which had been rapidly typing on the antique typewriter, suddenly stopped.
"So his 'immortality' requires energy replenishment..."
"If he had insufficient energy after the Gargoyle crash..."
*Clack, clack, clack.*
Wednesday resumed typing, but the pace was much slower, seeming somewhat distracted.
In the Art room, Xavier frantically waved his brush. A horrifying scene gradually emerged on the canvas:
Vic bound by chains on a metal operating table, his chest pierced with numerous tubes.
A figure in a white lab coat holding a chainsaw... various organs floating in glass jars in the background.
"Damn it..." Xavier trembled as he covered the canvas.
Outside the window, a raven flew by, carrying a chocolate wrapper in its beak.