—Victor's IQ was decent, but his EQ was like an unstable bouncy ball.
At times, it could soar into the clouds, insightful of the human heart; at others, it could plunge straight into the Mariana Trench and never crawl back out.
Clearly, his interpretation of the gunpowder scent in the dorm just now belonged to the latter.
Victor pulled an old-fashioned small pot from the package, along with a large collection of jars with obscure labels and strange dried plants.
Then, with great solemnity, he flipped to a dog-eared page in that brick-thick book, a thousand magical potions: from beginner to burial.
The title was none other than: good and evil potion.
Ever since the fight with that semi-mechanical Plague Doctor, Victor had been thoroughly alerted.
He and Venom were severely lacking in combat power. Last time, they had only managed to score a point by relying on cleverness and the opponent's obsession with "originality"; it was pure luck.
The opponent certainly wouldn't fall for it again next time.
The technology route was basically a dead end—the opponent was leagues ahead of him.
So, he could only try the occult.
He had scoured the restricted section of the Nightshades and finally found this book on magical potions.
This "good and evil potion" was particularly interesting.
It was said to temporarily split a person into a purely good side and a purely evil side, developed based on some ancient Eastern "Zodiac Magic" principles.
"This is too useful!" Victor's eyes lit up. "Next time it won't be a duel, it'll be a gang fight! Two against one, perfectly fair!"
He rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to work.
Venom emerged again, acting as a living reader, and read out the steps in a muffled voice:
"Step one: Heat a pot of water..."
Victor placed the small pot on a little alcohol stove and poured in distilled water.
"Once the water is hot, add sliced beef to the pot..."
Victor's hand, holding the knife to slice the beef, froze. He blinked and looked at Venom in confusion:
"Wait, buddy, are you sure you didn't read that wrong? This sounds more like you're teaching me how to make beef soup than brewing a potion to split good and evil?"
Venom's black tentacles tapped the page a few times as if confirming:
"That's what the book says. Note: This recipe was written by a Chinese mage."
Victor was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized, a "so that's how it is" expression on his face:
"Oh! It was written by a Chinese person! Well, that explains it. Not strange at all. Integrating gourmet food into life, magic originating from the kitchen—makes sense! Carry on, carry on!"
He briskly tossed the beef slices into the bubbling hot water.
Venom continued reading. The steps became increasingly bizarre, involving "centipede legs dried in moonlight," "mandrake roots harvested in times of sorrow," and so on.
Victor operated with frantic yet exceptional precision. A strange scent began to fill the room, a mix of meaty aroma and the herbal pungency of medicine.
"...Step twelve: Add three drops of crocodile tears."
Victor carefully dripped three drops of murky liquid from a teardrop-shaped vial.
"Wait, let me turn the page. The final step—"
Venom read, his tone now carrying a hint of uncertainty.
"Add... chocolate, and stir evenly."
Victor stared at the bubbling, strangely colored mixture for two seconds:
"Chocolate? Is this thing really not some kind of demon-flavored meat stew sauce?"
Despite his complaining, he obediently fished a piece of dark chocolate from his pocket, broke it into pieces, tossed them in, and began stirring with a glass rod.
"It's actually quite simple,"
Watching the liquid gradually blend, Victor breathed a sigh of relief. "Hmm, looks like I'm missing something big. I'll go find a larger spoon to stir it."
In the dorm, Enid, who was in a silent standoff with Wednesday, sniffed the air.
Enid's deep blue eyes widened suddenly, her face filled with shock and disbelief. She turned to Wednesday, her voice changing pitch:
"What is Victor doing in the bathroom?! This smell... it's like... like he's cooking something terrifying!"
Wednesday's brow furrowed imperceptibly, but she maintained her icy composure, retorting sharply:
"What else would he be doing in the bathroom besides using it? Is he stewing soup for you?"
Just then, the bathroom door clicked open.
Victor leaned out, a serious expression focused on his "scientific experiment" on his face, completely ignoring the bizarre atmosphere in the dorm.
He walked straight to his bed and dragged out from under a pile of junk... a huge, long-handled iron ladle.
He gave the two stiff-faced girls a polite, even somewhat shy smile, then, holding the large iron ladle, ducked back into the bathroom, the door closing once more.
Outside the door, there was a deathly silence.
Enid slowly turned her head toward Wednesday, the shock on her face having turned into a kind of hollow daze.
"Wednesday," she murmured, "I feel like you... might have been right just now."
Wednesday didn't answer. Victor's unpredictable behavior had once again breached her psychological lower limit.
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