Vic weighed the cold mask in his hand with satisfaction. That stingy old dragon, Shendu, might be tight-fisted, but Vic had still pried his mouth open.
He casually stuffed the mask into his backpack and signaled Enid and Wednesday to get ready to head back to Jericho.
Valmont, eager to climb the social ladder, was naturally running around serving them with extreme diligence.
He not only arranged a comfortable private car to the airport but also booked first-class tickets. The whole way, he bowed and scraped, his face plastered with the desperate desire to "perform well in front of Mr. Vic."
"Mr. Vic, I am terribly sorry."
While driving, Valmont carefully observed Vic's expression through the rearview mirror, his tone full of apology and regret.
"Funds are a bit tight at the moment, so I can only offer you and the ladies commercial first-class seats. Next time, I promise to have a private jet ready for you!"
Vic waved his hand unconcernedly, but his gaze fell thoughtfully on the streetscape rushing backward outside the window.
He leaned back casually, but his fingers tapped rhythmically on his knee.
In the shadows, several Shadow Khan ninjas assigned to escort them moved silently. However, in their scarlet eyes, there seemed to be a flicker of imperceptible... confusion?
Watching Valmont, the former boss of the Dark Hand, bustling about like a gold-medal assistant—rushing to open car doors and carry luggage—they doubted their "professional value" for the first time.
Is the human job market this competitive now?
Inside the car, Vic appeared to be resting his eyes, but his mind was focused. Using the partial authority he had just obtained, he was carefully sensing the Tarakudo mask in his hand.
"Tsk, an old fox is still a fox..."
Vic sneered internally.
Shendu had indeed held back a card. He hadn't handed over full control of the Shadow Khan.
Vic could clearly feel that his connection to a specific portion of the Shadow Khan was blocked—he couldn't summon them.
Those must be the ninjas who knew the exact location of Shendu's treasure.
He quietly brought the mask to his nose and sniffed discreetly.
A faint scent lingered—sulfur mixed with decay—but the smell seemed deliberately "fixed" by some power, making it impossible to use as a tracking lead.
"Heh, added a 'scent-lock' password?"
Vic curled his lip, roasting internally.
"Who are you guarding against? No trust at all... Oh, wait. That old geezer isn't human; he's a dragon. An old dragon with more holes in his heart than a honeycomb."
Sitting next to him, Enid seemed to sense his small movements. She turned her head, her eyes holding a knowing and amused smile.
If she didn't know her boyfriend was planning to squeeze every last penny out of that demon's coffin fund, she might have actually believed his innocent act.
Just then, Valmont spoke again from the driver's seat, his tone anxious and apologetic:
"Mr. Vic, one more thing... regarding the specific details of Shendu's treasure, I... I haven't been able to pry any more useful information out of that old dragon yet. His mouth is tighter than a vault."
Vic snapped out of his thoughts. He didn't mind at all; instead, he smiled and comforted Valmont.
"It's fine, Valmont. Don't blame yourself. That old guy has lived for thousands of years. Even a pig would become a sage by now. being full of schemes is perfectly normal."
His tone shifted, and a smile mixing cunning and confidence appeared on his face. He turned to look at the quiet-as-night Wednesday beside him, his voice becoming relaxed and certain:
"However... man proposes, God disposes. No matter how cunning Shendu is, he couldn't have calculated that my Wednesday... is a psychic little witch."
"Wednesday~ darling~"
Vic dragged out his voice. His peach-blossom eyes blinked like a large dog begging for a treat, looking at Wednesday expectantly.
"Hand it over."
Wednesday remained expressionless. She extended her hand directly, concise as always, her cool voice devoid of ripples.
"I knew you were the best! Come here, gimme a kiss~"
Vic instantly beamed and leaned in, pushing his luck.
This guy... ever since that "together forever" pact and the kisses that followed, he's become increasingly clingy. Acting cute and spoiled comes to him way too naturally.
Wednesday didn't even lift her eyelids. One hand precisely caught Vic's approaching cheek, pushing him away with slight force.
Her other hand nimbly snatched the red-faced fanged mask from his grip.
Her movements were fluid, clearly accustomed to Vic's antics.
The moment her fingertips touched the cold mask, Wednesday's eyes lost focus. Her psychic vision activated!
Countless chaotic images rushed into her mind like a flood breaking a dam—
A magnificent yet eerie demonic palace, shimmering with ominous treasure-light;
The moment Shendu was sealed, the palace collapsing and being buried deep underground;
The passage of eons, soil covering it, plant roots entangling it, tectonic plates shifting slightly...
Layers of historical dust piled up, burying the secret completely.
Wednesday's consciousness acted like the sharpest probe, skimming rapidly over the useless background noise, filtering for key fragments directly related to Shendu's treasure.
The timeline rewound rapidly before her "eyes"...
Suddenly, a clear image froze—an aerial view of a modern metropolis. Dense skyscrapers, a familiar harbor...
"Hong Kong, China!"
Wednesday snapped out of her vision. Her eyes hadn't fully regained their focus, but the answer blurted out of her mouth.
When Wednesday completely detached from the chaotic psychic images and anchored her consciousness back to reality, she found herself circled in Vic's arms in an extremely comfortable posture.
His warm chest was pressed against her back, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head. His arm around her waist was neither too tight nor too loose, but it held an unquestionable possessiveness.
She looked up slightly, meeting Vic's face, which was smiling so wide his eyes were practically closed.
He looked exactly like a fox that had successfully sneaked into the coop and snatched a fat hen—every pore radiating smug satisfaction.
Beside them, Enid blinked her large blue eyes at Wednesday, the corner of her mouth holding an unhidden teasing smile, as if saying: See, he got away with it again.
And in the front seat, Valmont's acting was over the top. His back was straight as a rod, his eyes fixed intently on the road ahead.
He projected the image of "I am a soulless professional driver; I see nothing happening in the backseat."
A lingering warm, soft sensation remained on her cheek, carrying a hint of Vic's unique scent—sunshine mixed with a bit of chocolate.
Wednesday instantly understood what had happened during her moment of trance.
She rolled her eyes with extreme elegance, her cool voice carrying a trace of imperceptible indulgence:
"Vic, were you a dog in a past life? Must you mark your territory at every opportunity?"
Instead of feeling ashamed, Vic tightened his arm and nuzzled into the crook of her neck, humming righteously.
"I'm recharging you! Visions take so much energy; you need a Boyfriend Love Charge!"
His voice was muffled and whiny. His warm breath brushed against her skin, triggering a subtle shiver.
Enid finally laughed out loud, crisp as a wind chime.
"Wednesday, just accept your fate! This guy's 'Love Charge' is a lifetime VIP service for both of us now. No refunds!"
Feeling the solid heartbeat and warmth behind her, the icy mountain of helplessness in Wednesday's heart melted completely into a pool of spring water.
She gave a soft "Hmph" as a default acceptance. Instead of pushing Vic away, she adjusted to a more comfortable position leaning against him. Her fingers absentmindedly twirled a lock of her black hair as she looked back out at the passing scenery.
However, the extremely faint curve of her lips couldn't be completely hidden.
Vic keenly caught Wednesday's subtle compromise and indulgence. Flowers bloomed in his heart, his smugness threatening to burst through the car roof.