"I'm a professional, of course." Venom popped its head out. Currently, it was wearing a pair of very sophisticated glasses, using a tentacle to hold a pen and a sheet of A4 paper.
Venom used a tentacle to adjust its glasses, the large white eyes behind the lenses sparkling with an academic light.
"As long as the budget is sufficient, never mind a fifty-thousand-word thesis; even if you want me to translate the 'Environmental Feasibility Report on Chocolate Explosives' into Ancient Greek and write it in sonnet form, it wouldn't be a problem."
Was it really not a problem? Looking at Venom, who had been acting crazy with Victor just moments ago, now looking like a professional scholar, Enid didn't know if she was the one who had gone mad or if the world had.
"Hey, don't worry," Victor patted his chest as he guaranteed, "Venom is fluent in all academic jargon! I promise it'll produce a perfect work that even Nobel Prize judges couldn't find fault with!"
His tone shifted, and his face instantly changed to an expression of profound grief.
"As payment, I've given seventy percent of this month's chocolate quota to Venom! And that Golden Ticket Collector's Edition... just talking about it makes my heart ache terribly."
"Waaaah, Enid, my heart hurts so much," Victor grabbed Enid's hand, looking at her with teary eyes like a large dog whose bone had been snatched away.
"Seventy percent! How many limited-edition chocolates is that? And that Golden Ticket Collector's Edition, I used to sleep with it in my arms every day."
Enid watched this absurd scene—a crazed boy clutching her hand and lamenting his chocolate losses, while the black symbiote on his shoulder adjusted its glasses and began rapidly scribbling Latin words on the paper, the pen tip even giving off sparks.
"Wait," Enid suddenly realized something, her deep blue eyes widening, "Venom is helping you write the thesis? Doesn't that mean you're essentially writing it yourself?"
"Of course not!" Victor immediately countered, his expression as serious as if they were discussing academic ethics.
"This is completely different! Venom is an independent individual! It has its own thought patterns and knowledge reserves! I'm just... uh... providing a creative platform and financial support!"
To prove his point, he turned to Venom and said, "Hey, old partner, use Aristotle's syllogism to argue the environmental friendliness of chocolate explosions."
Venom didn't even look up, its tentacles writing even faster, its low voice carrying an academic cadence:
"Major premise: All cocoa products come from natural plants; Minor premise: An explosion is a rapid oxidation reaction; Conclusion: Therefore, a chocolate explosion is a green form of sustainable energy release."
It even used another tentacle to push up its glasses:
"Do you need me to add references? I can cite at least five papers from 'Nature'—though I just made them up, the plagiarism detection system will definitely not find them."
Victor looked at Enid triumphantly. "See! Completely independent thinking! This is professional outsourcing!"
Enid opened her mouth, wanting to say this was clearly cheating, but seeing Victor's smug 'I'm a genius' expression and Venom's professional scholar persona, the words got stuck in her throat.
She suddenly felt that perhaps in this crazy world, this kind of solution was actually normal.
"Alright," Enid finally sighed, helplessly accepting this reality, "So... when will this thesis be finished?"
Venom raised a tentacle in a 'wait a moment' gesture, while its other tentacles continued writing at a speed difficult for the naked eye to catch.
Densely packed letters covered the entire A4 sheet like flowing water, with complex chemical structural formulas and citation notes even written in the margins.
"Basically..." Venom said without looking up, "give me three more minutes to finish the discussion section, two minutes to check the citations, and one last minute to make the whole article look like it went through a long and arduous research process."
It suddenly stopped writing and pointed a tentacle tip at a certain paragraph in the thesis. "This needs some 'experimental data.' Victor, make up some numbers that look reasonable but are impossible to verify."
Victor immediately leaned over, looking at the thesis seriously.
"Hmm... explosive yield equivalent to... 0.37 standard Chocolate Energy Units? Residue biodegradability... 99.8%? Just write 'verified by experiment, see supplementary materials for details'—no one will actually go and verify it anyway."
"Perfect." Venom continued writing with satisfaction.
Enid looked at this synchronized 'academic duo' and suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for Principal Larissa—she probably could never imagine how a thesis was being created...
Three minutes later, Venom put down the pen, carefully organized the full twelve pages of the thesis, and even pulled out a stapler, fastening them together with a 'click'.
"Finished," it handed the thesis to Victor, its glasses vanishing as it returned to its usual greedy appearance. "I'll take that seventy percent chocolate quota when we get back tonight. Now, give me the Collector's Edition. I know you have it on you."
Victor pulled a glittering, limited-edition chocolate bar from his pocket with a look of utter despair, his movements slow as if saying goodbye to a beloved: "Here... the 'Golden Ticket' Collector's Edition we agreed on..."
Venom quickly snatched the chocolate and instantly retracted into Victor's body, a satisfied purr echoing in Victor's mind.
Victor looked at Enid pitifully, his eyes moist.
"Enid... I... I seem to have fallen into a financial crisis. For at least the next two weeks, I might... I might not get to eat a single piece of chocolate..."
For Victor Black, this was undoubtedly news comparable to the end of the world.
He looked at the half-eaten brownie in front of him, his eyes filled with deep attachment and reluctance, as if looking at a lover he was about to part with forever.
"This might be the last chocolate I get to taste for a very long time..."
He said sorrowfully, even carefully using his fingertip to dab at the last bit of chocolate sauce on the plate, licking it cherishedly.
Enid looked at him acting as if the sky were falling; she first found it funny, but then her heart softened completely.
She thought for a moment, her eyes suddenly lighting up, and began rummaging through the cute bag she carried, which was printed with little paw prints.
Soon, she pulled out several exquisitely packaged chocolate bars that looked quite expensive and stuffed them all into Victor's hands.
"Here! For you!" Her cheeks flushed slightly, her voice light. "I usually carry some spares with me! Take these for now!"
Victor stared at the pile of chocolate that had suddenly appeared in his hands, stunned, his eyes wide as if he were looking at a savior.
"Enid! You're truly my angel! My savior! My chocolate goddess!" He was so excited he almost jumped up, wanting nothing more than to give Enid a big hug.
But he quickly restrained himself, simply hugging the chocolates tightly, his face overflowing with the immense happiness of something lost and found.
"Great... I'm alive again..." he muttered to himself, impatiently tearing open a bar and taking a large, blissful bite.
Watching his satisfied look, Enid felt a sweetness in her own heart, happier than if she had eaten rainbow gummies herself.
Her eyes curved into crescents as she rested her chin on her hand, watching Victor, and said softly, "It's okay. From now on, I can share half of my chocolate with you."
She said this naturally and sincerely, with the unreserved tenderness of a young girl.
Victor's chewing motion paused.
He looked up at the blonde girl across from him with her bright smile. Her words were like a pebble dropped into a calm lake, creating a faint, unfamiliar ripple in his heart.
That feeling... was completely different from the burning impulse he felt with Wednesday—the urge to get close, to tear, to fall into madness together.
This was a warm, soft kindness that even left him a bit at a loss.
He fell silent for a few seconds, rarely not immediately responding with a crazed joke or an exaggerated performance.
He just looked at her, and then slowly, very seriously, revealed a smile.
This smile was devoid of his usual mockery and madness, appearing exceptionally clean and... sincere.
"Thanks, Enid," he said, his voice much lower and softer than usual. "You're so good."
Under the spotlight, the madman temporarily shed his disguise, revealing a real, caught-off-guard smile—a reward sweeter than any chocolate.
Enid looked at this rare, undisguised smile of his and felt her heart skip a beat.
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