Azem Gray's survival alarm blared frantically in his mind.
Even if his EQ was currently in the negatives, he could clearly read the murderous intent in Wednesday's eyes, which had almost solidified into physical icicles.
Holding the hand of the Miss Gothic Detective while praising the dress of the sweet Little Wolf Girl—
This move would make even the scumbags in hell shake their heads!
A sudden, intense wave of guilt seized him.
He had to fix this! Right now! Immediately!
At that moment, Riot's overbearing, tyrannical, and unreasonable traits seeped into his consciousness like a faint electric current.
Azem Gray's eyes turned sharp. He suddenly took a step forward and, without a word, dominantly grabbed Wednesday's wrist again just as she had pulled it back.
His smile instantly became bold and aggressive, as if he were a different person.
"It's settled then!"
His tone was forceful and brook no argument, even carrying a hint of arrogance.
"I haven't seen you in a formal dress yet! I must see it!"
"Victor, let go."
Wednesday's voice was laced with ice, attempting to arm herself with her sharp tongue. But beneath that cold tone, a hint of offended nervousness quietly leaked out.
"No!"
Azem Gray's smile was so bright it was almost arrogant, carrying the stubbornness and madness of being possessed by Riot.
"I want to see! I want to see right now!"
He didn't give Wednesday another chance to refuse. With a sudden burst of strength, he pulled her hand and turned to run toward the town!
"You—!"
Wednesday stumbled from his pull, biting her lower lip in annoyance, a faint trace of anger flashing across her pale face.
She was perfectly capable of breaking free easily; she even had a hundred ways to make this suddenly crazed guy drop to the ground instantly.
But... her gaze fell on their joined hands, then quickly flickered over Azem Gray's rare, unreasonable, yet exceptionally bright profile.
The icy reprimand that was already at the tip of her tongue was ultimately swallowed back in silence.
She tilted her head slightly, letting him lead her through the dappled light and shadows of the forest, the headwind brushing against her black hair.
A very, very faint blush, like a drop of blood in clear water, flashed across her pale cheeks and quickly dissipated, so fast it seemed like an illusion caused by the light.
She didn't break free.
She simply let this madman pull her toward the town in a manner that was almost like a kidnapping.
Inside the only formal wear shop in Jericho Town, a sweet yet restless atmosphere peculiar to the pre-holiday season filled the air.
The scent of perfume, the smell of new fabric, and the low-voiced conversations of countless couples—some sweet, some nervous—drifted through the air.
Compared to the male companions standing to the side with lifeless expressions, as if their souls had been sucked dry by the fitting rooms, Azem White was like an effervescent tablet dropped into warm water—vibrant and fizzing.
He enthusiastically moved between rows of dress racks, holding several gowns of completely different styles, constantly offering Enid—
—mostly based on the quiet suggestions from the pearl-white Symbiote "Serum" around his neck—outfit advice.
"This Starry Sky Blue one! Enid! It definitely complements your eyes!"
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