Vic walked back holding Winnie, the little one still looking slightly aggrieved from being subjected to that "rotting malice."
"So..."
Wednesday's gaze shifted from Ms. Thornhill—or rather, Laurel Gates'—hastily retreating figure back to Winnie. Her expression was an unprecedented mix of strangeness and investigation.
"She has already... smelled out the motive for the crimes?"
She truly couldn't comprehend how a sense of smell could analyze such complex emotional entanglements and revenge plots.
This was even more... illogical, yet brutishly simple, than her own psychic visions.
"Alright, Winnie."
Vic grinned, pinching the little werewolf girl's soft nose.
"Show your very curious... Auntie... properly one more time."
He dragged out the word "Auntie" deliberately.
Wednesday remained expressionless, but her elbow delivered a precise and stealthy jab to his ribs.
"Hiss—"
Vic grimaced in pain, nearly dropping Winnie.
Winnie sniffled her little nose, seeming to review that complex scent database again. Then, in her crisp, milky voice, she began to "broadcast" the "story" she had smelled with terrifying logic:
"Okay, let me organize this... God, this plot is so cliché."
She even mimicked an adult's tone to complain.
"Simply put, this botany teacher's real name is Laurel Gates."
"Over a decade ago, her father ordered her brother, Garrett Gates, to poison the Rave'N dance, intending to kill all the students at Nevermore."
Wednesday's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
"But her brother saw the girl of his dreams making out with a man... who had a thin mustache."
Winnie crinkled her nose, seemingly disliking that "sour stench" of jealousy.
"Why does that sound so familiar?"
Wednesday whispered coldly, her gaze sharpening.
Her father's signature mustache flashed through her mind.
Was this the case where her father was accused of murder but later released due to insufficient evidence?
A few months ago at the Weathervane, Sheriff Galpin had called her father a murderer. Curious, she had ordered Thing to steal the file from the police station that very night.
Winnie continued:
"Garrett lost his mind with rage. He rushed over to fight them, but the vial of poison in his pocket accidentally broke, injecting into his own body. In the end, he was stabbed through the chest by his dream girl."
Wednesday felt a jolt.
This detail... differed from the police file Thing had stolen.
The file stated that Gomez had stabbed Garrett. It didn't mention Morticia doing the deed.
I see. Wednesday formed a vague hypothesis.
The situation must have been that Morticia stabbed Garrett in self-defense, and Gomez, who was with her, took the blame to protect her.
Tsk tsk. No wonder Mother loves Father to death.
"After Garrett died, his mother hanged herself, and his father drank himself to death. The sister, Laurel, was sent overseas. Later, news came that she... drowned."
Winnie recited these tragedies as flatly as if reading a menu.
"Tsk tsk."
Vic shook his head beside them, offering commentary.
"A tragedy on earth. But... they really deserved it. Trying to kill the whole school and ending up dead themselves? Karma's a bitch."
Winnie nodded her little head, seeming to agree with Vic, then continued her "Scent Broadcast":
"But actually, Laurel faked her death. She hid her identity and found a way to infiltrate Nevermore because she wanted revenge. She found a method in a book called the Book of Shadows to resurrect her ancestor—Joseph Crackstone—intending to use his power to destroy everything."
"She got help from those people wearing bird-beak masks and found Crackstone's buried sarcophagus. She also used school archives to find the descendant of a Hyde—Tyler Galpin—and used a special chemical to induce the 'Hyde' inside him."
"When Auntie enrolled, she started her plan, making the Hyde kill repeatedly to harvest the 'sacrifices' needed for the resurrection."
"Finally, she just needs to wait for the Blood Moon tonight. Using... the blood of the Addams family mixed with those sacrifices, she can fully resurrect Crackstone."
Winnie finished speaking and let out a long sigh, as if she had completed a monumental task.
She looked up at Vic and Wednesday with clear, big eyes, waiting for feedback.
A strange silence fell over the group.
The volume of information was immense, and the fact that it was revealed in such a... supernatural way required everyone to take a moment to digest.
After a while, Vic broke the silence first. He smacked his lips, wearing an expression of disdain like he was watching a cheesy soap opera:
"How should I put this... isn't this just the classic 'Family wiped out, orphan girl fakes death to return, turns evil for revenge, creates chaos' female lead script? It's ancient! Even short video platforms wouldn't bother with this trope anymore; the audience would roast it to death!"
Wednesday ignored Vic's commentary. Her deep eyes were cold and sharp; all the clues had finally connected into a clear, icy chain.
Motive, method, target... everything matched.
Her gaze turned once again to the direction Laurel Gates had vanished, her killing intent solidifying.
"My blood. The blood of the Addams family..."
She whispered the key phrase, the corner of her mouth curling into a cold smile.
"So that is it. That is what Goody Addams meant when she said I was the key."
Vic grinned, the curve of his mouth bordering on maniacal. His fingers absentmindedly stroked Winnie's fuzzy head, making the little one hum comfortably, her fluffy tail spinning like a propeller.
"Well, her cards have been flipped. We know her hand."
His voice carried the pleasure and control of a chess player who had seen through every move of his opponent.
"Now, the initiative is ours."
"Vic, I'll help too!"
Mavis rolled up her sleeves, revealing pale but eager arms. Her sharp fangs glinted, ready to join a grand brawl at any moment.
"No, no, no, Mavis."
Vic shook his head, his smile confident to the point of arrogance.
"You protect the family. Then just watch my performance."
He tilted his chin up slightly, his eyes flashing with crazy, excited light.
"I will present to you all... a truly spectacular show."
Just as his words fell—
"I suggest you hurry."
A cold, calm, flat female voice abruptly cut in.
The voice was too familiar. So familiar it was bone-chilling.
Vic snapped his head around. A figure wearing a pure white dress, pale skin, white hair combed meticulously, had appeared silently before them like a ghost.
That face, that aura, those cold eyes... it was a carbon copy of Wednesday Addams!
No, not a copy!
It was a 1:1 replica!
Except the color palette had been swapped from classic Goth black to... blindingly holy white!
"HOLY SHIT!!!"
Vic was scared out of his wits. He let out a strange yelp and jumped straight up like a startled cat!
Subconsciously, he grabbed onto the person closest to him—
Which happened to be the actual Wednesday wearing her classic black mourning attire.
He clung to her for dear life, practically draping his entire body onto hers.
Sandwiched between Vic and Wednesday's chests, Winnie let out a small, squished whimper.
"Awoo..."
"What is happening?!"
Wednesday, suddenly serving as a body pillow, spoke in a voice cold enough to crack stone. She tried to break free from this sudden, overly tight embrace, but Vic was holding on too hard.
"Don't you see it?!"
Vic's voice was trembling. He pointed at the white figure, incoherent.
"A white Wednesday! A living one! My god! Wednesday, did you secretly drink my Good and Evil Potion?! Did you undergo mitosis? Is this your good side or your evil side running loose?!"
"Get off me immediately!"
Wednesday felt a scent—a mix of faint chocolate sweetness and Vic's unique, indescribable aura of manic vitality—forcefully invading her senses.
That scent was like a feather, lightly scratching across the lake of her heart, stirring up an imperceptible tremor.