In the hallway, a faint, cold, and imperceptible curve formed at the corner of Wednesday Addams' mouth.
The plan had begun. The variables had been successfully guided and bound. Everything was under control.
Except for that insignificant, must-be-ignored flicker of abnormal emotion deep in her heart regarding the fate of the guillotine.
Over the next few days, Wednesday acted like a precise and heartless machine, quietly executing every step of her plan.
She contacted Tyler under the guise of "learning modern communication technology"—a reason that made even her feel nauseous—and had Enid briefly teach her how to use the instant messaging software on the academy's internal network.
Enid was flattered and taught her with exceptional seriousness.
Later, one late night while Enid was fast asleep and Victor and Venom were battling in their dreams over the ownership of a chocolate cake, Wednesday quietly got up.
She beckoned Thing to the window and used a marker to write a random string of numbers and letters on his palm—it was the anonymous account she had just registered.
"Find Tyler Galpin,"
she commanded in a low voice, tapping Thing's palm. "Have him add this. Understand?"
Thing's index and middle fingers curled slightly in understanding before he slipped silently into the night... The following evening, when Wednesday borrowed Enid's computer again under the clumsy but effective pretext of "checking the weather forecast," a friend request from a stranger was prominently displayed.
Step one, complete. She spoke with Tyler briefly and succinctly, finalizing the time and location for the escape that day.
Meanwhile, she keenly noticed that Principal Larissa had not entirely lowered her guard.
Sure enough, during the assembly on the morning of the Harvest Festival, the principal specifically pulled Victor and Enid aside and whispered a few instructions.
Although Wednesday couldn't hear the details, she immediately understood from the slightly unnatural looks the two of them cast her way afterward—the principal had tasked them with monitoring her.
Such a predictable and tedious tactic.
Wednesday sneered inwardly but remained expressionless on the surface.
She didn't even bother to push Things further, simply maintaining her usual coldness and obvious distaste for the festival.
As expected, once they entered the noisy, chaotic, and sugar-laden square of the Harvest Festival, the "monitoring mission" of those two was thrown to the wind.
"Victor! Look at that giant pumpkin pie!"
"Venom! Quick, smell that! It's chocolate-covered bacon! Our Holy Grail!"
"Enid! Come here! This game looks super stupid, but I have to play it!"
In the blink of an eye, Victor and Enid—likely with Victor subconsciously grabbing her hand to avoid getting separated in the crowd—plunged into the sea of joy with loud shouts, quickly vanishing behind the throngs of people and the steam from the food.
Wednesday stood at the edge of the square, coldly watching the direction they had disappeared in, feeling a sense of natural pride in her precise prediction.
These two variables, just as she expected, would completely lose themselves once thrown into such an environment.
Everything was under control.
Her gaze swept the surroundings, confirming that Principal Larissa was busy talking to the Mayor in the distance and had no time to worry about her for the moment.
The timing was perfect.
She turned, preparing to head silently toward the secluded spot agreed upon with Tyler—the Old Well.
However, the moment she turned, the corner of her eye inadvertently caught those two disappearing hands again—
Victor was holding Enid's hand tightly as they excitedly rushed toward a sugar painting stall. Enid's face was glowing with a bright, cloudless smile, and she didn't even look back at the person she was supposed to be "monitoring."
In that instant, after the pebble named "pride" sank to the bottom of the lake of Wednesday's heart, another extremely faint and unfamiliar ripple quietly rose.
It was... a feeling of emptiness?
It was as if the noisy background noise of the entire world had suddenly been drained for a second, leaving only the jarring image formed by those two tightly clasped hands.
Absurd.
Utterly absurd.
She immediately labeled this emotion as "brief discomfort caused by the lack of challenge in completing the task objective" and ruthlessly suppressed it.
She was Wednesday Addams; she didn't need that kind of weak, meaningless connection.
Her path was destined to be walked alone.
Taking a deep breath, she refocused her icy will. Like a black shadow, she moved quickly and quietly through the noisy crowd, heading toward the relatively secluded Old Well at the northwest corner of the square.
She successfully avoided all eyes and met Tyler Galpin by the abandoned Old Well in the northwest corner of the square.
Tyler's car was parked in a nearby, even more secluded alley. The engine wasn't even turned off, as if it too were anticipating this escape.
"Get in, quick!" Tyler lowered his voice, his eyes a mix of nervousness and desperate determination.
Wednesday didn't hesitate for a second and pulled open the car door.
However, just as she bent down to climb into the car, three familiar figures, filled with rage and carrying weapons, rushed from the mouth of the alley, blocking their path.
It was the three "Inquisition-style" students she had beaten down with ballet-like violence at the cafe.
Bruises still lingered on their faces, now twisted by the scorching flames of revenge.
"It's her!" the leader, whose jaw still seemed a bit crooked, roared. "Catch that Goth bitch!"
Tyler's face turned pale instantly: "Oh no!"
Wednesday made a split-second decision, slammed the car door shut, and jumped back out.
"Run separately! Draw them away!"
Staying in the car would make them too big a target, and it would only lead to Tyler and his car getting smashed.
The only way was to use the dense crowds of the Harvest Festival.
The two of them immediately turned and bolted toward the chaotic core of the square like startled deer.
Those three avengers were indeed relentless, cursing as they shoved through the blocking crowds, causing a wave of screams and chaos.
Wednesday wove through the flow of people with agility, her black silhouette like a swimming fish.
However, during a sharp turn, she unexpectedly collided with a figure standing in front of a candy stall.
The force of the impact wasn't great, but it was enough to make Wednesday's vision go black!
A familiar, nauseating sense of losing control instantly seized her.
A Psychic Vision was forcing its way in again!
This time, what she saw was a pitch-black forest, the moonlight sliced into fragments by twisted branches.
Rowan—the boy she had bumped into—was staring with wide, terrified eyes. His mouth was open, but he couldn't make a sound.
The next second, a massive, twisted, terrifying monster, moving so fast it was a mere blur, lunged from the shadows!
Its claws, like the scythe of the Grim Reaper, easily tore through his chest, blood and organs splattering into a horrifying pattern under the moonlight.
The sickening crunch of breaking bones was clear enough to make one's skin crawl.
The vision ended abruptly.
Wednesday stumbled back a step, barely steadying herself, cold sweat beading on her forehead. She snapped her head up and looked at Rowan, who had just been bumped by her and was also looking a bit bewildered.
He was still alive and unharmed, but his face held a trace of confusion and annoyance at being disturbed.
That Psychic Vision... was the future of his gruesome death!
Almost instinctively, Wednesday blurted out, "Rowan! Listen, you're in danger..."
Rowan frowned. He took a wary step back and turned to leave.
"Wait!" Wednesday didn't have time to explain or worry about the avengers who might still be chasing her. A powerful, ominous premonition drove her to pursue him.
She had to ask! She had to warn him! No matter how repulsive that vision was, it had happened, and she couldn't ignore it.
Rowan seemed startled by her urgent attitude. He quickened his pace, even using a bit of his ability to push through the crowd, heading rapidly toward the forest at the edge of the square.
Wednesday followed closely. One after the other, they soon left the noisy lights and crowds behind, plunging into the thick darkness of the forest.
"Stop! Rowan!" Wednesday's voice rang out clearly in the silent woods. "I don't want to hurt you, but you must listen to me!"
Rowan finally stopped in a relatively open clearing in the forest.
He turned around, his face no longer showing confusion, but a cold anger mixed with fear and resolve.
"What exactly do you want, addams?" he demanded. "Why do you keep following me?"
"You're being targeted," Wednesday said succinctly, trying to ignore the thickening, ominous air of danger. "I saw your death. It will happen right here in this forest, very soon."
Rowan suddenly revealed a strange smile. "No, Wednesday. You're wrong. You're the one who's in danger."