"Victor!"
Enid finally couldn't help but shout out, her voice carrying a hint of a tremble—a mix of embarrassment and jealousy that she hadn't even noticed herself.
Victor, who was fully immersed in his role as the "Wolf Tamer," looked up at the sound, a bright, carefree smile plastered on his face.
"Oh! Hi! Enid!"
He stood up quickly, casually ruffling Karl's hair once more and brushing the grass clippings off his pants as he walked toward them.
Behind him, the Sinclair brothers who had been waiting in line, along with the still-unsatisfied Karl, subconsciously followed along.
They looked like a pack of little wolf cubs being led by an alpha.
The scene was... bizarre, with a suffocating hint of the ridiculous.
"Uh... Uncle, Auntie, hello."
As Victor approached, he showed a rare moment of awkwardness. He pulled his face into what he hoped was a well-behaved smile, but the effect was mediocre at best; his crazy vibe was still faintly visible.
"I'm Victor Black, Enid's... boyfriend."
Ms. Qiong's gaze was as sharp as a scanner, sweeping from Victor's unruly black hair down to the grass-stained hems of his pants, and then to the group of "her own cubs" behind him with their moist, puppy-dog eyes.
Finally, her gaze settled back on his face, which was trying so hard to look "normal."
The corners of her mouth slowly curled into a meaningful, almost delighted arc.
"So you're the boy who 'gave Enid courage.'"
Ms. Qiong's voice carried a hint of amusement as she emphasized certain words, her gaze shifting back and forth between Victor and the bright-red-faced Enid.
"It seems... you're not only good at giving encouragement, but also very good at... dealing with our 'little ones'?"
Mr. Eli's expression was even more inscrutable.
He simply gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on Victor for a moment before sweeping over his own disappointing sons who had clearly been "tamed." He let out a very soft snort from his nose, its meaning unclear.
The Sinclair brothers behind Victor seemed to finally realize that acting like dogs waiting to be fed in front of their parents was a bit embarrassing for the werewolf clan. They coughed awkwardly one after another, trying to straighten their backs and regain some of that werewolf coldness.
But the looks they cast toward Victor were still full of anticipation, as if asking, "Can we keep playing later?"
Karl, on the other hand, didn't care about any of that. He directly hugged Victor's leg and looked up with his small face: "Victor! Play again! Throw me higher this time!"
Enid felt like her cheeks were hot enough to fry an egg. She wished she could dig a hole right now and bury herself, Victor, and especially those embarrassing brothers of hers!
"Mom! Dad! It's not what you think!"
Enid tried to salvage the disastrous situation, her voice sounding weak.
"Victor isn't usually like this... He's actually... uh..."
"So, when do you two plan on having little wolf cubs?"
Ms. Qiong interrupted Enid's words.
Her question was like a precision-thrown throwing knife, hitting the bullseye.
Victor's brain, which was always running at high speed and filled with crazy potion formulas and chocolate-flavored fantasies, rarely stalled. But now, it did.
Have... have what? Little wolf cubs?
The smile on his face froze, and his pupils dilated slightly, as if he had just heard a law of the universe more absurd than Venom voluntarily becoming a vegetarian.
Isn't this process skipping ahead a bit too fast? Between confirming a relationship and discussing reproduction, shouldn't there be dates, arguments, making up, more arguments, more making up, meeting the parents, and at least three hundred chocolate-sharing ceremonies first?
"Mom!" Enid's voice carried a hint of a sob, her cheeks as red as ripe tomatoes. She tugged hard on her mother's sleeve, trying to stop this social suicide. "We're only eighteen!"
Ms. Qiong waved her hand dismissively.
"What does that matter? When I was your age, I was already pregnant with your three rowdy older brothers."
Three in one birth? Victor's thoughts immediately bolted like a runaway horse.
He suddenly thought of the Waynes—
That werewolf couple seemed to be outstanding representatives of multi-child births.
Ever since he had met them, Aunt Wanda's belly never seemed to have been truly flat. Their family size was heading straight for four hundred; they were practically walking models for werewolf fertility.
His gaze subconsciously drifted toward Enid's still-flat lower abdomen. Werewolf bloodline... sounds like they can really produce.
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