"When do you plan to and Wednesday..."
Hearing this familiar, disastrous opening, Victor's brain short-circuited. The fear of being dominated by Ms. Qiong instantly returned, and his survival instinct made him blurt out, completing the sentence:
"We plan to have children after we get married! Don't worry, ma'am! We have enough money for formula! They'll be well-fed!"
Crack—
As if an invisible layer of ice instantly froze the air.
The eternally proper smile on Mrs. Morticia's face stiffened.
Gomez excitedly exclaimed "Wow!" and nearly jumped, but was frozen in place by a single look from his wife.
Pugsley tilted his head in confusion.
And Wednesday, always as cool as ice, wore a rare expression of shock on her face, her pale cheeks even showing a faint hint of something resembling a blush.
She subconsciously took half a step back, her eyes screaming "Are you insane?!"
Even the Symbiote inside Victor couldn't help but snark:
"Victor! Did you drink the failed potion from the toilet as water today?! Where's your brain?! Clogged with chocolate?!"
"Ahem!" Mrs. Morticia was the first to regain her composure, clearing her throat lightly to cover her lapse, returning to her elegant and mysterious demeanor, though her tone was a bit peculiar.
"Vi-Victor, I meant when do you have time to visit the addams Manor with Wednesday..."
"Also, while The Addams Family welcomes new family members... this matter of having children... I think there's no need to be so... hasty."
Victor finally realized what he had said and wished the Symbiote would immediately cocoon him and bury him three kilometers underground.
"Uh... I mean... long-term! Yes! Long-term planning! Sustainable development! The Addams Family's excellent genes need... uh... to be passed on!" He tried to salvage the situation, his words fragmented.
Mrs. Morticia looked at him with an extremely complex expression, a mix of pity that said "this child is hopeless" and amazement that said "my daughter's taste is certainly unique."
"I... I think I need to go discuss the school donation with Principal Larissa now."
She finally turned gracefully, her skirt swishing in a perfect arc, as if eager to escape this prospective son-in-law with overly erratic thoughts.
Gomez winked at Victor, giving a "hang in there, kid, I believe in you" gesture before being dragged away by his wife.
Pugsley also left, looking back every few steps.
Wednesday remained in place, her dark eyes fixed on Victor, her gaze cold enough to freeze lava instantly.
"Victor Black!"
Her voice was three times colder than a Siberian winter wind.
"I think we need to talk. About your 'long-term planning,' and whether your tongue still needs to remain in your mouth."
Victor: "!!!"
Symbiote: "We're screwed. Get ready to run, buddy. Or maybe I should digest you now; it might be less painful than falling into her hands."
Victor, holding that can of cola, watched Wednesday approaching step by step, her killing intent almost tangible, and retreated step by step.
"D-dear... let me explain... it was just a conditioned reflex! Yes! It's all because of Enid's mom..."
Just as Victor was about to make excuses, he felt a pair of warm arms wrap around his neck. Enid's soft body pressed against his back, her sweet voice laced with ice:
"Victor, dear~"
Her breath brushed his ear, the werewolf's claws lightly grazing the artery on the side of his neck.
"Can we have a good talk... about the specifics of 'having little wolf pups' and 'formula money'... planning?"
Ahead, the Gothic angel of death. Behind, the werewolf sweetheart.
Victor felt like a chocolate cookie about to be crushed or torn apart, sandwiched between a slab of black marble and a furry trap.
"Symbiote!!!" Victor screamed inwardly, heart-wrenchingly.
"Bro! Help! Strategic retreat! Or anything! Do something!"
Dead silence in his mind.
After two seconds, the Symbiote's hoarse voice slowly sounded, carrying a detached, even somewhat gleeful laziness:
"Oh, buddy... theoretically, one of us has to survive, right? I think my odds are better."
It paused, adding sincerely: "So, good luck, Victor. I'll miss you... and the chocolate you promised but haven't delivered yet."
"Symbiote! You treacherous, cowardly, symbiotic-fellowship-lacking bastard!!!" Victor roared in despair.
Both the physical and mental worlds were simultaneously plunged into a dead end.
Cold sweat beaded on Victor's forehead as his brain worked at an unprecedented frantic pace, trying to find a sliver of hope under the wrath of his two girlfriends.
Negotiate? Wednesday might just attack.
Act cute? Enid's claws seemed to tighten a bit more.
Play dead? They might start researching dissection and fur-processing techniques on the spot.
It's over. Completely over.
Victor closed his eyes and sent out the most devout, desperate prayer from his heart:
Heavens! Lucifer! Merlin! Dracula! Whoever! Any god or demon! Send someone to save me! Any kind of interruption! Anything! I'll trade a year of the Symbiote's chocolate quota for it!
As if responding to his desperate plea—
"Victor~ I missed you so much!"
(Guess who's about to make an appearance?)
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