Silence reigned for a long time.
Dr. 077 finally couldn't help himself and, facing the empty room, squeezed out a low, resentful curse from between his teeth:
"To hell with Hollywood."
On the other side, in the Nevermore Academy dormitory, a sweet scent of chocolate and a faint, lingering smell of gunpowder hung in the air.
Victor, who had recovered his hearing a few days ago, was lying on his simple small bed right next to the bathroom door, legs crossed, reading 'a thousand magical potions: from beginner to burial'.
He suddenly moved the book away from his eyes, tilted his head, and scanned his only two roommates in the dorm with suspicious eyes.
"I say," he drawled, his eyes, which always danced with frantic light, narrowing slightly.
"Are you two hiding something from me? Why do I feel like... you're being weird today?"
At the other end of the room, the scene was indeed somewhat abnormal.
Enid Sinclair was facing a delicate small mirror, using a soft brush to dip into a large amount of foundation, carefully layering a second coat onto her already nearly transparently pale cheeks... No, looking closely, this was already the tenth or so time today.
Her expensive box of soft-glow liquid foundation, which she had only opened yesterday, was visibly nearing its end.
Her whole being radiated a sense of nervousness, as if she were trying to use makeup to cover up her thoughts.
Meanwhile, Wednesday Addams stood before that iconic clue whiteboard, arms crossed, motionless.
The whiteboard was covered with bloody close-ups of severed limbs, clippings of case reports, and several prophetic drawings with eerie brushstrokes and ominous forebodings.
Her dark eyes were as sharp as ever, but her focus didn't seem to be truly on the clues she already knew by heart; it was more like she was... zoning out?
Hearing Victor's question, Enid immediately turned her head, her face breaking into a smile that was overly sweet, even a bit forced:
"Nothing! Victor! We're just doing our own things!" Her voice was unnaturally light.
Wednesday didn't even turn her head, only letting out a very soft nasal "Mm" of affirmation, as if she were completely immersed in the maze of clues and had no time for anything else.
"OK~" Victor drawled, his crossed leg swinging, the suspicion in his eyes deepening. "Let's break this down, guys. Usually at this time—"
He pointed his index finger at Enid:
"Our Little Wolf Girl Enid should be sitting with her sisters under the rose trellis in the Quad, leisurely drinking afternoon tea with double syrup, discussing the latest nail art or who in the academy is dating who."
Then, his index finger turned to Wednesday:
"And our gothic detective Wednesday should be out somewhere chasing clues about the 'Hyde' monster murders and traces of Joseph Crackstone's Resurrection."
He sat up abruptly, his book falling to the floor with a thud.
"But! Today!" He waved his arms exaggeratedly. "Enid! Look at you! You've already brushed on over a dozen layers of foundation!"
"Honey, you're so white now you look like Wednesday just crawled out of a coffin! Your poor, newly bought foundation is about to sacrifice itself heroically for you!"
Then he turned to Wednesday:
"And you! My dear captain! That board! You've been staring at it for three whole days! And you already reached a conclusion yesterday! Those missing organs from the poor souls killed by the Hyde are the key puzzle pieces for resurrecting that antique Crackstone!"
"You even said you planned to go place monitors in the sewers marked on the prophetic drawings where the Hyde might appear! So tell me! What! Exactly! Are! You! Looking! At! Now?!"
His words echoed in the dorm, carrying a smugness that said, 'Don't think you can fool these all-seeing eyes of mine.'
The air instantly froze.
Enid's foundation-brushing motion froze in mid-air. Wednesday's fingers, crossed over her chest, tightened slightly.
The two of them exchanged a very quick glance, and as their eyes met, it was as if crackling electricity flashed between them.
Almost simultaneously, they whipped around to face Victor and blurted out:
"Victor, tomorrow night..."
Their voices collided and came to an abrupt halt.
Both immediately shut their mouths and stared at each other again, their eyes filled with warning, competition, and a tacit understanding of 'don't you dare speak first.' The smell of gunpowder in the air became instantly thick enough to choke on.
"Tomorrow night?" Victor's curiosity was completely piqued; he looked from one to the other.
"What's tomorrow night? A party I don't know about? Or a limited-edition chocolate sale? Or..."
Ding-dong—
Just then, his phone chimed crisply in his pocket, interrupting his questioning.
Victor instinctively pulled out his phone to look; a notification lit up the screen: [Owl Express] Your order has arrived at the academy mailroom. Please collect it using the pickup code.
"Oh! My baby is here!"
Victor instantly threw his previous questions to the back of his mind, a brilliant smile like seeing a true love blooming on his face as he sprang off the bed with a carp leap.
"Excuse me, girls! We'll talk about your 'tomorrow night' later!"
He rushed out of the dorm door like a gust of wind, humming an out-of-tune song, leaving behind only the two girls with their own hidden agendas and the increasingly subtle, lingering tension in the air.
Enid and Wednesday stared at each other in silence. The conversation interrupted by the delivery now seemed like a heavier secret that required even more of a contest.
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