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"Where did Vic go?"
Night had fallen. Wednesday pushed open the dorm door to find only Enid and Thing inside.
Enid sat cross-legged in the center of the spliced "Super Bed," holding an open magazine with a flashy cover, but her gaze was clearly unfocused.
Hearing the question, Enid looked up. Her blue eyes held an emotion that was hard to define, her tone a little sour:
"Don't know. Because of that... um, 'unparalleled' kiss you gave him this morning, Vic has been dizzy all day. Walking like he's on clouds, grinning like an idiot at everyone, acting exactly like a fool who found a treasure."
"After dinner, he said he was going to walk around the bonfire party venue early. Probably went to digest the impact of your 'Secret Arts Chapter.'"
She paused, adding in a small voice laced with envy and frustration she didn't even notice:
"I've never seen Vic look like that... like his soul was hooked away."
Wednesday placed her backpack on the carved coat rack by the door. Her pitch-black eyes swept calmly over the uneasy expression on Enid's face.
"Jealous?" Her cool voice pierced the bubble directly.
Enid reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Cheeks slightly flushed, she turned her head away subconsciously, stubbornly denying:
"Who... who's jealous! I just... just think it's unfair!"
"Why does he react like that when you kiss him once, but... but when I treat him nicely and occasionally let him take small advantages, I never see him lose his bearings like that!"
Wednesday walked to the bedside. She didn't sit, but looked down at Enid from above. Her pale face appeared exceptionally calm under the dim wall lamp.
"Do you desire instruction?"
She asked suddenly, her tone as flat as asking "Do you want a glass of water?"
"One-on-one tutoring."
Enid whipped her head around. Her eyes lit up swish like stars suddenly igniting in the night sky.
"Really?"
She blurted out, then pursed her lips in slight embarrassment, but the light of anticipation didn't dim in the slightest.
"I... I also want Vic to look at me with that... soul-lost expression!"
She clenched her small fists, a flush of excitement rising on her face. The earlier sourness was instantly replaced by immense curiosity and competitiveness.
Wednesday nodded slightly, unsurprised by Enid's reaction.
She knew that maintaining the balance of this small group sometimes required sharing "resources" and "techniques."
After all, Vic's learning ability and adaptability were astonishing. Relying solely on her to "suppress" him was not the optimal solution in the long run. Leveling up her ally was a necessary strategic investment.
"Please teach me, Teacher Wednesday!"
Enid leaped off the bed and stood in front of Wednesday, looking up. Her blue eyes were filled with piety and longing, like an apprentice about to receive secret teachings.
Wednesday looked at Enid's eager appearance, the corner of her mouth curving almost imperceptibly.
"You have already understood the basic theory from the Guide."
Wednesday began her "lesson," her voice steady, as if stating experimental procedures.
"But Vic is gradually building resistance to direct theoretical indoctrination. The key lies in the 'timing,' 'posture,' and 'psychological guidance' during application."
She paced to the window, looking out at the silhouette of Nevermore Academy's spires sinking into the night.
"Take this morning's kiss, for example. Choosing to strike at the moment his anticipation peaked after a night of restraint, stripping him of initiative, and intervening with a posture of complete control."
"The point was not the kiss itself, but breaking his inherent 'act cute-gain benefit' pattern and rebuilding a new cycle of 'obedience-reward.'"
Enid listened without blinking, nodding subconsciously, as if absorbing the mental cultivation methods of a peerless martial art.
"Then... what exactly should I do?"
She couldn't help but ask.
Wednesday turned around, looking straight at Enid:
"First, you must overcome your 'soft-heartedness.' Vic excels at using your sympathy to dismantle your defenses. Next time he attempts the 'Wet Puppy Eyes' tactic, you need to..."
Wednesday stopped speaking.
"What's wrong? Go on."
Enid, holding a notebook and writing furiously, looked up. Seeing Wednesday suddenly fall silent at the crucial moment, she couldn't help but urge her.
Wednesday ignored Enid. Her gaze, sharp as a falcon's, shot past her and locked onto Thing curled up in the corner—
More precisely, it locked onto the old-fashioned typewriter next to Thing.
The typewriter cover was open. A sheet of paper was loaded on the roller, and on the top page, a line of freshly typed, ink-still-wet words remained.
Wednesday approached silently, her cold gaze landing on Thing's slender fingers.
"Did you use my typewriter without permission?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chill.
Thing trembled at the sudden interrogation, then waved frantically, using his whole body to express strong denial: It wasn't me!
Wednesday extended her slender, pale fingers to the typewriter and removed the paper.
There was only a nonsensical greeting on the paper, or rather... a provocation:
"Read any good books lately?"
Wednesday held the edge of the paper, contemplating for only a second before her pitch-black pupils constricted suddenly.
An ominous premonition coiled around her spine like a cold snake.
"My novel!"
She turned abruptly, strode to her desk in a few steps, and yanked open the drawer where she kept her manuscript.
The drawer was empty.
The thick manuscript of the novel, representing two years of her blood and sweat, was gone.
Only a solitary slip of paper remained at the bottom of the empty drawer, bearing an even more arrogant sentence typed in the same font:
"Higher, higher, higher. I am the fire demon. Every burning roof is my bonfire."
The air pressure around Wednesday dropped instantly to a suffocating level.
She understood the meaning of this sentence almost immediately—
Her stalker intended to burn her novel manuscript at tonight's bonfire party!
"That wasn't your only copy, right?"
Enid realized the severity of the situation. She put down her notebook and asked nervously.
Wednesday didn't speak, but the layer of frosty expression on her face already gave the worst answer.
"Are you serious?"
Enid's blue eyes bulged round, her voice filled with disbelief.
"The photocopier wasn't even invented in the 21st century! You wrote for two years and didn't even make a backup?"
"I will not allow two years of my effort to turn to ash."
Wednesday's voice was low and resolute.
She gripped the provocative note tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force.
Without hesitation, she yanked open the dorm door. Her black figure, like an arrow leaving the string, merged instantly into the dim hallway outside, striding rapidly toward the direction of the bonfire party.
Enid looked at Wednesday's disappearing back, then at the empty drawer and the note with the mad declaration. She stamped her foot: "Thing, guard the house!"
She grabbed a jacket and chased after her immediately.