After visiting the headmistress of Nevermore Academy, Alex and Dean stopped by a diner in the town of Jericho to grab a bite and discuss everything they had learned during their visits to the sheriff’s department and the school for outcast children.

At the moment, everything pointed to one thing: the residents of Jericho were covering for one another and would clearly continue to do so. While they were having dinner, Alex glanced at his phone and realized it was already evening. The local morgue was closed at this hour, meaning they wouldn’t be able to examine the bodies found in the woods today. He told Dean about it, but Dean only shrugged — they’d swing by tomorrow.

Alex understood that himself, but even knowing who the real culprit was, he wanted to fully experience what it meant to be an agent investigating a case like this.

While they sat in the diner, the locals kept casting glances their way. In a town of just over three thousand people, rumors about visiting federal agents spread faster than hot pies.

Alex noticed it and thought about something else: Laurel Gates might start acting more cautiously upon learning federal agents were present… or, on the contrary, become even more aggressive, knowing she could always blame the students of Nevermore Academy.

Thinking about this, Alex came to an unpleasant conclusion: there might be more bodies than in the original timeline.

After finishing dinner, Alex and Dean asked the waitress if there was a decent hotel in town. She named the place where tourists usually stayed. After paying, they got into the Impala and headed there.

On the way, Alex wrote to Jessie, letting her know that he and Dean had arrived in Jericho posing as FBK agents. The reply came almost immediately — Jessie added that she was ready to help if needed. Alex sent a smiling emoji and put away his phone.

At the hotel, Alex booked a double room. Dean changed clothes, flopped onto the couch, and turned on the TV, while Alex settled into an armchair with his phone.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Dean asked, folding his hands behind his head.

“In the morning we go to the morgue to examine the bodies. Then we need to learn more about the Gates family. And we should ask the locals about the town’s history,” Alex replied, looking up from the screen.

“So the day’s gonna be packed… By the way, why did you decide to deal with that pale girl? Or were you just flirting with her?” Dean rolled onto his side and propped his cheek on his hand.

“Din-chan. Wednesday studies at Nevermore. Do you think outcast kids will talk to federal agents? Thanks to Wednesday, we’ll be able to find out what’s happening at the school and which of the local little monsters might’ve decided to snack on human flesh,” Alex drawled lazily.

“Ugh… Don’t call me that. Sounds creepy… But fine, I get it now. So you were not only flirting with a student from a monster school but also managed to squeeze out an informant. Great job. But I’m still telling your three girlfriends,” Dean said with a shiver after hearing Alex call him that again.

“What’s wrong with it? You watch anime too. We even watched it together… and you cried,” Alex said in a cheerful tone.

“First of all, we promised never to bring that up. And second… it was sad when Kaori died,” Dean grumbled, clearly wanting to throw something heavy at Alex.

“As you say, Din-chan,” Alex replied with a slight smirk on his face.

“You’re fucking… Whatever, screw you. How are you even planning to contact that Wednesday? You didn’t even ask for her number. Or are you gonna follow that pink girl on TikTok and watch stupid videos?” Dean said, pointing a finger at Alex and grinding his teeth.

“Bet a hundred she’ll contact me first?” Alex raised a brow.

Dean squinted, pulled out his wallet, and placed a hundred dollars on the table. Alex smiled, added his own — the bet was on. Then both men returned to what they were doing.

Alex was texting his wives in the family chat, checking how their little gremlins were doing — and whether they had accidentally burned down any cities. Surprisingly, all four were calmer than usual today. The girls were enthusiastically discussing Samantha’s first job and giving her advice, despite the fact that she had to deal with a killer of imaginary friends.

Alex knew Samantha needed personal experience, and Sam needed to work separately from his brother, so he sent the girls with Sam while he went to the case with Dean. Brunhilde and Yuriko were once again complaining about the shortage of staff in the Guild — Alex once again promised he’d deal with it when he had time.

After making sure the girls were doing fine, Alex closed the family chat and opened TikTok. He almost immediately stumbled upon Enid’s account — and froze. The videos were cute, bright, and surprisingly positive. Dean, lying on the couch, heard the teenager-style music and looked at Alex suspiciously. Alex just tilted the phone toward him. Dean rolled his eyes and went back to the TV.

Alex merely shrugged at Dean’s reaction. He didn’t see any problem with running such accounts; even Samantha never stopped posting photos on hers.What surprised Alex was that Enid actually had a lot of followers, and she made genuinely cute and fun videos.

An entire hour passed like that — Dean lying on the couch drinking beer and watching TV, and Alex scrolling through videos or reading articles, following his habit of checking the latest news to stay informed.

Alex had developed that habit back when he lived in Night City — a place where something happened every single moment. He and Dean continued minding their own business until someone knocked on the door. The two exchanged looks, and Alex shrugged, showing he wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Maybe it’s your new girlfriend?” Dean smirked, getting up.

“I don’t think so. They usually don’t let them out of the academy at this hour,” Alex said, shaking his head.

Dean raised his brows in surprise and grabbed his gun. Approaching the door, he looked through the peephole — nobody outside. Frowning, he slowly cracked the door open, weapon ready.

And at that exact moment, something darted through the gap.

A hand.

A separate, crawling hand.

Dean stared at it in stunned silence, forgetting to breathe. Alex, on the other hand, lifted a brow in interest. He recognized this oddity instantly — Thing.

The hand scurried away from the door, skittering across the floor with quick, agile movements, then jumped onto the table. It opened its palm — a short message was written on it, signed: “Call me. — Wednesday.”

“So I’m guessing that’s the pet of that pale girl?” Dean said, sliding the gun back into his waistband.

Thing slowly and very deliberately raised its middle finger.

Dean’s eye twitched.

“Did you see that?!” he rasped, reaching for his gun again.

Alex was barely holding back laughter. While Dean fumed, Thing continued flashing gestures — and even if Dean didn’t know sign language, the meaning was perfectly clear without translation. Nothing flattering, that was for sure.

It was time to intervene. Alex stopped both — Dean, ready to go on the attack, and Thing, who seemed prepared to launch into a dance of obscene gestures.

Once he dealt with the chaos, Alex dialed Wednesday’s number. Within a second, her pale little face appeared on the screen… way too close to the camera.

“Wednesday, move back. You’re like two centimeters from the lens,” Alex said, setting the phone on the stand.

She stepped back.

“This is my first time using something like this. And I still think technology is just a tool for surveillance and brainwashing through useless cat videos,” she said darkly.

“You can’t argue with that, pale girl. Big brother’s watching everyone. And what’s with the crawling hand? That’s your pet?” Dean smirked, leaning on the table.

Thing raised his middle finger at him again. Dean returned the gesture in kind.

Alex clapped his hands, distracting both the living hand and Dean, putting an end to the childish war.

“This is Thing. And he gets very offended when you call him a pet,” Wednesday explained.

“Yeah, it’s obvious. He’s flipped off my partner like ten times in the last two minutes,” Alex nodded.

“Let’s get down to business. About our deal. I want to know what you know,” Wednesday said bluntly.

“Not much. We haven’t been to the morgue yet — that’s tomorrow. For now, we only know one thing: the bodies are mutilated. And there’s some stuff that’s better discussed in person,” Alex said.

“What do you need from me?” Wednesday asked.

“You study at Nevermore. You have access to what’s happening inside. But I suspect it won’t be easy for you,” Alex said cautiously.

Wednesday frowned.

“There are no tasks I can’t accomplish.”

“I don’t want to offend you…” Dean began, but Wednesday cut him off instantly.

“Usually that phrase is followed by an insult. That’s what people say when they pretend not to want to offend, but are actually trying to assert themselves and push their opinion,” she said coldly, staring at him from the screen.

“Fair enough. But you don’t look like someone who can subtly get information from students. You’re already suspicious. Even if you try not to be,” Dean grumbled.

“You don’t need to be friends or have a ‘constructive dialogue’ to get answers,” she replied calmly.

“Just don’t try to interrogate anyone. Better ask Enid for help. I checked her TikTok… she’s social,” Alex said wearily, rubbing his face.

And at that moment, a bright blonde suddenly popped into the frame from above.

“You watched my TikTok?! You followed me? Did you like the videos? Liked them? What’s your channel, I’ll follow back!” Enid blurted, shining like the sun.

Enid appeared so suddenly that even Wednesday blinked in surprise for a second — despite the fact that they’d already agreed to stay on their own halves of the room. But when she saw Enid’s ecstatic face, Alex just smiled.

Dean slapped Alex on the shoulder — a silent “deal with it, brother,” hinting that it was now his problem to handle the attention of the over-energetic werewolf girl.

Alex did the only thing he could: he gave Enid his number so she could message him. But one number wasn’t enough — she wanted links to all his social media accounts. Alex didn’t mind; he only ever posted travel photos anyway.

After getting both his number and social media, Enid literally lit up with happiness. Wednesday, meanwhile, looked at Alex as if he had just confirmed his submission to meaningless social norms. Alex calmly ignored the glance.

After chatting a bit longer, he ended the call and opened the door so Thing could return to his owner. He collapsed onto the couch himself—and before he could even lean back, a message from Enid popped up. The girl sent messages that were far too lively, far too bright, far too emotional… clearly, Alex wasn’t used to this.

Thanks to her, though, he learned far more about the school than he could have figured out on his own: from small gossip to how the Nevermore students reacted to the arrival of him and Dean.

Alex messaged with Enid late into the night, listening to Dean snore beside him. Dean had fallen asleep as usual, holding a beer and with the TV on in the background. Alex didn’t wake him, knowing that Dean barely got any rest anyway because of the dreams where Amara appeared.

Which meant Dean always slept poorly.

In the morning, Alex woke with a slightly unpleasant feeling—he was sleeping alone. After spending so much time with the girls, he had gotten used to waking up feeling someone’s embrace.

Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at Dean: he was asleep, clutching his pistol tightly. Alex quietly sighed, realizing how much the hunter’s life had worn Dean down—living constantly under the threat that any creature could kill him at any moment. And that was without factoring in the countless times Dean and Sam had died, only for Chuck to bring them back “for the plot,” to continue enjoying their suffering.

After quickly washing up and getting dressed, Alex went outside to buy breakfast. Wearing a black cap, he lit a cigarette and headed to the “Weathervane” café for coffee and pastries.

Walking down the sidewalk, he observed the locals—ordinary life, ordinary people going about their business. They were lucky. They didn’t know what lurked in the shadows.

In the café, Alex spotted Marilyn Thornhill—the biology teacher at Nevermore. The only “normal” person at the academy… if you didn’t count her true identity: Laurel Gates, the woman who desired to destroy Nevermore.

But he didn’t notice Tyler—though he was supposed to be the second villain.

After buying his coffee, Marilyn spotted Alex and, pretending not to know him, walked past with a polite teacher’s smile. Alex caught her glance but didn’t pay much attention.

“If she decides to unleash Tyler on more people…” Alex shrugged internally. “I won’t mind taking her out early.”

After buying coffee and pastries, he returned to the hotel, hoping Dean was already awake. And indeed, he was getting dressed.

“Dude, where have you been? Did you really run off early in the morning for a date after last night with your werewolf girlfriend?” Dean smirked.

“Shut up. Enid’s nice and friendly. And the fact that she’s a werewolf means nothing. I honestly see no difference between humans and monsters. Everyone kills, Dean. We do too. How many have we taken out—humans, creatures alike. And what makes us better? As long as they don’t cross a certain line, I don’t consider them monsters. A monster can be compassionate. A human—terrifyingly cruel,” Alex said calmly.

“Let’s skip the moral lessons this early. My head’s already splitting. I haven’t really slept for weeks… Just tell me what’s for breakfast. I’m starving,” Dean grumbled.

“Coffee and pastries. And take a headache pill if you’re hungover. There’s a lot of work today,” Alex said, setting the bag and cups on the table.

“Alright, mommy. And where’s my coffee?” Dean chuckled.

Alex just rolled his eyes and pointed to the cup of coffee he had bought for Dean.

Dean nodded, took the coffee, and opened the paper bag with the pastries, taking a deep breath to savor the aroma of the fresh bun. Alex calmly sat at the table, picked up his own cup—and at that moment, he received a message from Enid. The girl had sent a photo of her own breakfast.

Seeing the picture, Alex once again wondered what was going on with Enid. He remembered that she seemed to have a crush on a gorgon guy named Ajax. But since Enid hadn’t mentioned him herself, Alex decided not to pry.

While he was pondering, another message came through: Enid wanted to know what he was eating. Alex saw no reason to hide it—he took a photo of his coffee and pastries and sent it back.

Dean gave him a long, blank look, full of unspoken questions. Alex just rolled his eyes in exhaustion.

After finishing breakfast, he said goodbye to Enid, writing that it was time to get to work.

“I thought you were going to stare at your phone all day,” Dean muttered, adjusting his agent suit.

“Work is work. As long as they pay, I’m the model employee,” Alex replied, tying his tie.

“So first the morgue, and then we figure out what happened with the Gates family?” Dean asked, stepping out of the room with his hands in his pockets.

“You think Garrett Gates’ ghost decided to take revenge on tourists?” Alex asked, following him.

“Anything’s possible. First, we gather information. Maybe it really is some restless spirit… or one of the Nevermore students decided to snack on tourists,” Dean suggested.

Alex just nodded, though he already knew the truth, having run into one of the culprits himself.

While they were driving, Alex called Sheriff Donovan and informed him that they wanted to inspect the tourists’ bodies. Donovan promised to wait for them at the morgue. After letting Dean know, Alex put his phone away.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the morgue, where the sheriff was already waiting.

“Good morning, agents,” Donovan greeted them, shaking their hands.

“Is the coroner here? We didn’t get a chance to stop by yesterday,” Alex asked.

“Yes, he’s inside. His name is Joseph Sullivan. He’s already prepared the death reports—you can request copies from him,” Donovan replied, nodding and gesturing for them to follow.

They entered the morgue and were met by Joseph Sullivan himself—a man in his fifties, slightly overweight, with a round, kindly face, bags under his eyes, and a reddish nose.

After a brief greeting, he led them to the room with the refrigerated units. Alex requested the autopsy materials to review them. The coroner nodded, left, and soon returned with three folders.

Alex took them and began reading while Sullivan wheeled out the bodies. Dean was simultaneously examining the second report.

“Do you mind if we inspect the bodies ourselves?” Alex asked, looking at the coroner and the sheriff.

“Then I won’t get in your way. If you need anything, I’ll be at the station,” Donovan said, slightly tipping his hat, and walked out.

“I’ll be in my office. Just let me know when you’re finished,” Joseph added, following the sheriff.

When the coroner and the sheriff left, Alex and Dean exchanged looks and began examining the bodies. Dean, suppressing his disgust, lifted the sheet covering the first corpse. According to the autopsy reports, the first two victims were women, and the third was a man.

Alex decided to start with the man — the body was relatively fresh. He unemotionally tossed the sheet aside and started his inspection, while Dean, struggling to keep himself together, tried not to stare too closely. Even after so many years of work and dozens of bodies, Dean still hated this part of their “profession.”

“Well? Find anything?” he asked, watching Alex work.

“Hmm… If we didn’t know what we were dealing with, you might think he was torn apart by some wild animal,” Alex replied.

“And what kind? A werewolf?” Dean stepped closer.

“No. Look: here are claw marks — they’re bigger than what a werewolf would leave. I’d say about the size of bear claws. Plus, some of the internal organs have been partially eaten. And as we know, werewolves prefer hearts. But here…” Alex pointed at the opened cavity, “here we’ve got chewed-up leftovers of everything.”

“Right. And werewolves usually finish their meals. But here, only a chunk of the heart is missing,” Dean noted, peering over Alex’s shoulder.

“And that’s not all. Look: part of the body looks like it was ripped off with brute force. None of Nevermore’s students are capable of this,” Alex said, covering the corpse again.

“So your new girlfriend definitely had nothing to do with it. And what kind of creature — or person — could mutilate the poor guy like that? He looks like he went through a meat grinder,” Dean said, folding his arms and frowning.

“No idea. The list of possible creatures is way too long. It could even be a ghost — sure, they don’t usually tear bodies apart like this, but who knows how angry it might’ve been? Or maybe some tourist triggered a local curse,” Alex said, pulling off his gloves and tossing them into the bin.

“So we’ve got three options: ghost, unknown creature, or a curse awakened by some idiots?” Dean clarified.

“With bodies in this state, it’s hard to tell what was taken and what was eaten. Everything could be a lot more complicated,” Alex sighed.

Dean nodded in understanding. He had long accepted that they never got simple cases — especially in places like this. Alex examined the other victims as well, but they were in the exact same condition.

When the examination was finished, they stopped by coroner Joseph, thanked him, and left the morgue. Outside, Alex lit a cigarette, trying to clear his thoughts even a little. He had to keep pretending he didn’t know far more than he let on.

Dean leaned against the Impala, watching Alex finish his smoke.

“So, what now?” he asked.

“We talk to the locals. If it’s a curse, it’s tied to the town — someone must know something. And we need to figure out what happened to the Gates family,” Alex said, exhaling smoke.

“Then we split up. I’ll dig into the local legends, and you take the Gates family,” Dean replied with a nod.

Alex agreed to split up and, holding a cigarette between his fingers, decided to take a walk while Dean drove the Impala around, gathering rumors about local legends. First, Alex returned to the hotel to change into casual clothes so as not to stand out in the crowd.

A few minutes later, he stepped out of his room dressed in ordinary jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, with his cap pulled low over his head again. Deciding not to rush, Alex strolled through the town, listening in on the conversations of the locals. He knew perfectly well that useful information could often be picked up from random snippets of conversation.

During his walk, he noticed a familiar face — Dr. Valery Kinbott, Wednesday’s psychologist. She was standing next to Tyler, talking to him animatedly about something. Alex quietly passed by, keeping his distance, trying to catch the gist of their conversation.

And at that very moment, his sense of smell picked up a sharp, fresh scent of blood.

The smell came from Tyler. It was so fresh that Alex felt a jolt of unease immediately. There was only one explanation — a murder had just occurred.

Alex frowned. He had already disrupted the course of events by interfering in Tyler and Wednesday’s meeting — an important link in Laurel Gates’ plans. And now… now the worst could be expected.

If Tyler had attacked again, it meant Laurel had clearly given the order. And in that case, the body was somewhere very close.

Keeping a calm appearance, Alex turned into the nearest alley… and vanished. A second later, he was deep in the forest.

Sniffing the air, he immediately caught the trail: the scent of blood stretched ahead as a thin but distinct line.

After a couple of kilometers, Alex found another mutilated body.

He crouched beside it and grimaced — Tyler, transformed into Hyde, had once again lost control. The victim had been torn almost in half.

Alex remembered how Laurel had forced Hyde to bring body parts for the ritual — the same ritual she intended to use to resurrect her ancestor, obsessed with the idea of destroying the outcasts.

“And what am I supposed to do with you…” Alex muttered wearily, staring at the remains. “How am I supposed to explain that just a couple of hours after leaving the morgue, I find another corpse?”

He lit a cigarette, closing his eyes to calm the surge of irritation, but still pulled out his phone and called the sheriff.

Half an hour later, Donovan and a team of officers were already on the scene. When asked what he had been doing in the forest, Alex gave the most plausible explanation: he wanted to inspect the area where the previous bodies had been found, smelled the blood, and stumbled upon the victim.

The sheriff accepted the explanation without unnecessary suspicion, only asking a few clarifying questions before heading back to his team to give orders.

Alex called Dean. Dean grumbled that the locals weren’t very talkative — all he had managed to find out concerned the town’s founder, Joseph Cracklstone. No one wanted to talk about the Gates family’s past or old tragedies.

When the call ended, Alex decided to return to town with the sheriff.

“Sheriff, drop me off near the hotel. I’ll handle the rest myself,” he said with a slight smile, sitting in the passenger seat of Donovan’s pickup.

The sheriff looked at Alex and gave a brief nod. A few minutes later, the truck stopped near the hotel, and Alex calmly stepped out. Sheriff Donovan watched him leave: the boy walked away as calmly as he had appeared — as if he had never stood next to a mutilated body.

The thought crossed his mind on its own: a young guy like that must have nerves of steel. Donovan, without even realizing it, gave Alex a new level of respect.

Heading up to his floor, Alex entered his room. He already knew who the villain was, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the investigative process. For him, everything happening felt like reading a book where the ending is known in advance, but the journey itself remains captivating until the very last page.

A couple of hours later, Dean returned — slightly tired, looking disheveled. Entering the room, he saw a city map sprawled across the table, marked with crime scenes and cluttered with notes — everything they had managed to gather in the day.

“Looks like you tried to turn our room into a full-on investigation HQ,” Dean said, loosening his tie and pulling a beer from the fridge.

“Yeah. Found anything new?” Alex asked, turning his head.

“Nothing special. Except that the local mayor has his own park — Pilgrims’ Park,” Dean snorted. “And not all the townsfolk are thrilled about your… outcasts. Want a beer?”

“Not yet. And I doubt the locals will tell us much anyway. Don’t you think the story about Joseph Cracklstone feels… incomplete?” Alex folded his arms across his chest.

“Absolutely. Were there any traces at the spot where you found the body?” Dean asked, taking a sip of beer.

“Unfortunately, no. Just the corpse — chewed up and spat out again. This time, a local.” Alex pulled a candy from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.

“So the monster decided to snack on its own kind?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Unknown for now. Could be a monster, a ghost, or a curse,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s all the same trash that needs killing,” Dean responded, repeating the gesture.

Alex rolled his eyes again, and Dean, like a mirror, mimicked him. There was neither the strength nor the desire to argue. Alex flopped onto the couch and closed his eyes, planning to rest a little.

When night fell, his phone vibrated. Alex opened his eyes, reached for the nightstand, and saw a message from Enid — an invitation to the carnival fair. He replied with an affirmative, then turned on his side and saw only a note from Dean: “Went for a drink.” Clear enough — the bar, and possibly another fleeting romance.

“Hope Amara won’t be upset that he’s picking up someone else for one night again,” Alex muttered, rubbing his face and shaking off the last traces of sleepiness.

Stretching slightly, he put on his coat and grabbed a small backpack. Stepping out of the hotel, he turned into an alley and pulled a low-profile motorcycle from his inventory — the kind that doesn’t attract extra attention — and soon was riding toward the fair.

Already approaching, he heard carnival music and saw a lit Ferris wheel in the sky. Stopping, he cut the engine and looked around. There were too many people. Too many. Alex grimaced, pushing through the crowd in search of Enid and Wednesday.

On the way, he spotted the sheriff with his son — Tyler — and remembered that another killing awaited him soon.

Enid was the easiest to find. In her bright pink outfit, she shone like a beacon amid the gray crowd. She stood near an attraction, rocking back and forth with her hands behind her back, smiling cheerfully. Seeing Alex, she waved joyfully.

“Hey, Enid. You look… pretty bright,” Alex said with a slight smile.

“Heh-heh-heh, thanks! And you look completely different without your agent suit. Where’s your partner?” she asked, glancing at him with curiosity.

“Went for a drink alone, so I came by myself,” Alex replied.

“I see,” Enid nodded, smiling even wider.

Alex smiled and almost reached out to brush Enid’s hair — the gesture was almost automatic. Then he looked around, trying to spot Wednesday.

Meanwhile, Wednesday was focused on the attraction: throwing darts at targets with a completely stone-faced expression, as if performing the most boring task imaginable. The man running the attraction stared at her in total shock — she hadn’t missed a single throw, and her expression didn’t even twitch.

When the last ball popped, a young guy approached the attraction — lean, with shoulder-length hair. It was Xavier Thorpe, whose relationship with Wednesday had always been complicated, and whose feelings had always been unrequited. They had known each other since childhood, and their grandmothers had once traveled across Europe… robbing travelers. There had been calmer times too: Xavier had stayed with the Addams family as a child, and once Wednesday had even saved his life.

“Wow… if you keep this up, you’ll take the whole pack with you,” Xavier said, leaning on the counter.

“Pandas don’t live in packs. They’re solitary,” Wednesday replied coldly, not even glancing at him.

“Got it. Hint received…” Xavier muttered, instantly catching the subtext.

“I’m waiting for someone,” Wednesday said calmly, casting him a brief look.

“Really? Who? Him? Or her?” Xavier tried to redirect the conversation but failed.

“She’s waiting for me,” a male voice said from behind.

Wednesday turned smoothly. Xavier, more abruptly. Their eyes fell on Alex in casual clothes, and beside him — Enid, calmly chewing pink cotton candy.

Xavier frowned for a moment but quickly pushed his usual neutral, if slightly displeased, mask back into place.

“Yo. How’s it going? And who are you?” Alex asked, raising a hand in greeting.

“No one. I’m leaving,” Xavier muttered, trying to shove Alex with his shoulder.

He tried — but it was as if he’d hit a stone wall. Alex didn’t even flinch.

Enid, standing on the other side, noticed nothing. But Wednesday — she saw everything. And once again thought that human emotions were useless and only got in the way.

Alex calmly watched Xavier until he disappeared into the crowd.

“So, shall we talk?” he asked, turning to Wednesday.

“Not here. First, we need to get rid of the surveillance,” she said, barely nodding toward a direction.

Alex followed her gaze and saw Larissa Weems. She sat motionless at a wooden table, watching Wednesday while holding a burger. Seeing Alex beside her student, she flickered in her smile for a moment but quickly returned to her usual mask of the friendly principal.

Alex nodded politely, giving nothing away. Larissa responded with the same slight nod.

He looked at Wednesday, nodded in understanding, and stepped aside with Enid.

As a farewell, Alex gave Larissa a small wave, leaving Wednesday to decide how best to deal with the surveillance.

To be continued…

(I forgot what I wanted to talk about. I think it had to do with Wednesday’s plot. If I remember correctly, the events unfolded over the course of a month or so. I don’t remember exactly. It doesn’t matter; time and timeframes are for suckers. As for the romantic relationships, it will be the usual, during certain events. But I’m not sure which ones.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep