Wednesday walked to Victor's side, looking at Wednesday, who was twitching her little nose at the Hyde's claw. Her calm tone held a trace of imperceptible doubt:
"I don't doubt for a second that you could get the Queen of England's crown, but can this little one identify the real thing just by scent?"
"Hehe~" Victor smiled smugly and lowered his voice.
"This is a secret technique of the Wayne Family, and the little one is the best among them. Her nose is more sensitive than the most precise mass spectrometer."
"Wait, the Wayne Family?"
Enid, standing aside, covered her mouth in shock, her eyes wide.
"That legendary Pureblood Werewolf couple? The living legends of the werewolf world?!"
"I've seen their photo on the frontispiece of a werewolf history book! I always thought Wednesday was just... just a genius who transformed into a wolf particularly early; I didn't expect her to be a pureblood!"
"Exactly."
Victor nodded, his eyes showing a hint of pride for the little one.
"Her situation is the exact opposite of yours. She has to wait until she grows up and her power stabilizes before she can maintain a human form, but those from the Wayne Family prefer to stay in their werewolf form."
Enid digested this startling information, suddenly remembering Victor's earlier words.
"So you said before that the Dracula family who took you in..."
A natural smile curved the corner of Victor's mouth.
"Besides Count Dracula himself, what other vampire would have the guts to use that title?"
"Well, besides them, I also know Frank, the original Frankenstein who likes to gamble and often loses his limbs to me; Murray, the Mummy Pharaoh who's always trying to give me funerary objects; and Griffin, that famous invisible man who loves to play pranks in the girls' showers..."
Seeing Victor counting them off on his fingers as if listing family treasures, Wednesday and Enid were both stunned.
What kind of heaven-defying, cross-species, history-spanning super network of connections was this!
Wednesday instantly understood many things, such as why those "Plague Doctors" clearly knew Victor's last appearance was in Transylvania but never dared to actually go and capture him.
If they really went, it would probably be no different from a group delivery of takeout to Count Dracula.
Just then, Wednesday's small nose stopped twitching. She opened her eyes, and within those clear pupils belonging to the pureblood wolf tribe, there flickered a light of precise target locking.
"Mhm, he works at Weathervane coffee shop."
Wednesday spoke extremely professional content in her tiny, milky voice.
"He has brown curly hair. Although the scent of blood on him is masked very faintly by the smell of coffee beans, he has killed at least seven people in the past few months."
"Oh, I smelled the name on the crumpled paycheck in his pocket—Tyler Galpin."
At this moment, even Wednesday's eternally frozen expression couldn't quite hold up.
She whipped her head around to look at Victor, her dark pupils screaming, "You can smell that directly?!"
This ability was simply more convenient and direct than her Psychometry!
With a brilliant "sharing the glory" smile on his face, Victor shrugged: "That's why it's called a secret technique."
Wednesday glanced disdainfully at Enid beside her, her sharp-tongued instinct kicking in again: "Both werewolves, tsk tsk."
Enid's fur immediately stood on end like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her cheeks flushing red.
"Why are you looking at me! That's a Pureblood Werewolf! Talent skills maxed out! How can I, a Mixed-blood Werewolf who only grows pimples and gets sharp nails on full moon nights, even compare!"
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