Alex was helping Enid and her friends fix the boat for the upcoming race when he received a message from Dean. Before leaving, he gently patted Enid on the head, and the girls who witnessed it all giggled in unison. After that, Alex left the Nevermore grounds.

On his way back to the hotel, he decided to buy dinner. Alex was certain that Dean had spent the entire day wandering through the woods with Sheriff Donovan without eating a single bite. When Alex returned with food, he barely had time to step through the doorway when Dean snatched the bags right out of his hands and started eating so fast it looked like he hadn’t eaten in days.

While Dean was having dinner, he talked about the search in the woods. Just as Alex suspected, they hadn’t found any traces. In turn, Alex shared what he had been doing. When Dean heard that Alex had spent half the day surrounded by teenagers, he raised a brow in surprise and then smirked. But the moment Alex clarified that he hadn’t learned anything useful — only gossip about who was dating whom and who had a crush on whom — Dean’s eyes instantly lit up with interest. The word “gossip” worked on him like magic.

Smiling at his reaction, Alex began recounting everything he’d heard from Enid and her friends while helping repair the boat for the Poe Cup. Dean listened and commented on each story as if he were watching a soap opera.

From the useful information, Alex learned something else: despite the rumors, Enid was not in love with Ajax the gorgon guy — they were only friendly classmates. This detail was shared with him by Yoko, Enid’s closest friend. Alex wasn’t surprised; if anything, he felt mildly relieved. He made no secret of the fact that he liked Enid’s cheerful and warm personality. Alice, by the way, also wrote to him saying she would love to befriend that lively werewolf girl.

After dinner, Alex and Dean decided to take a walk around town — maybe they could find out something. Alex didn’t mind at least creating the appearance of doing his job. Their walk eventually led them to the local bar, where Jericho residents liked to discuss everything under a couple of beers.

Alex and Dean sat at the counter, listening to conversations and sipping their drinks, when Alex noticed a man in the corner leisurely drinking whiskey. Narrowing his eyes, Alex realized: he was a demon. He nudged Dean with his elbow — Dean was busy chatting with the bartender.

Dean didn’t understand at first, until Alex wrote a single word on a napkin: “Demon.” The reaction was instant. The power of Amara, which Dean carried within him, had changed his perception — now he could sense demons instinctively, almost like Alex.

They exchanged glances and nodded at the same time. Alex put money on the counter to pay for their drinks, and they both got up.

The demon, of course, recognized Dean Winchester. Seeing him approach, the demon smiled, stood up, and headed for the exit. Alex and Dean followed.

The demon turned into an alley, and they went after him. He was already waiting there — leaning against a wall with a lazy smirk.

“Dean Winchester and his new buddy,” he drawled. “The King is still furious about what the three of you pulled.”

“And you are who? Another lapdog Crowley keeps on a short leash?” Dean asked grimly.

“I’d say… a tracker. And if I’m lucky enough to stumble onto Winchester and his new friend at the same time, I think the King will be pleased when I bring him your cooling corpses,” the demon said, and his white sclera turned black.

The demon raised his hand, trying to slam Alex and Dean into the wall with his power. But nothing happened — neither of them even flinched. Dean stood unmoving, glaring at the demon, while a cheerful, mocking smile blossomed on Alex’s face.

The demon realized things were going badly and decided to run. But just as he tried to teleport, a stone hit him in the head — Alex had thrown it. The impact made the demon stagger and nearly fall, giving Dean the chance to step forward and punch him squarely in the jaw. The demon collapsed to the ground.

Wasting no time, Dean drew Cain’s blade from behind his back — just the sight of it struck real fear into the demon. The demon didn’t even have a chance to speak or bargain for his life before Cain’s blade plunged into his chest. The demon’s body twitched and went limp.

Dean pulled out the blade, calmly wiped the blood on the edge of his jacket, and sheathed the weapon.

“Dean, why did you kill him?” Alex asked dryly, stepping closer. “We could have questioned him… and then killed him later. We don’t know what Crowley is planning or what this demon was looking for in the city.”

“Damn… I forgot. It just… happened,” Dean shook his head.

“I thought we weren’t killing demons for now, just banishing them,” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“It was an empty vessel. The person possessed by the demon was already dead,” Dean replied, looking at Alex.

“And how did you figure that out?” Alex asked, genuinely curious.

“I don’t know how to explain it… I just felt it. There was no one inside except the demon. It’s hard to describe, but… it’s like looking at an empty box,” Dean said thoughtfully.

“Looks like you’re starting to get used to Amara’s blessing. That’s good news,” Alex nodded.

“Hmm… now I get what you meant about relying on your instincts. But what are we doing with the body?” Dean asked, nodding toward the dead demon lying on the ground.

“What do you mean? We’ll toss it in a bag and bury it. You want the corpse to be found in the alley? We already have enough trouble with that darkness-obsessed monster,” Alex replied, pulling a body bag out of his inventory.

“What exactly do you keep in that inventory of yours? And why carry body bags around?” Dean asked dryly, watching Alex spread out the bag.

“A lot of useful stuff,” Alex waved him off. “Grab its legs and help me.”

Dean nodded, grabbed the body by the legs, and together they moved it into the bag. Once packed, they hid it in the alley to make room for the car. A few minutes later, Dean pulled up in the Impala, and they loaded the body into the trunk before heading into the woods.

The sun had already set, and darkness enveloped the forest, with only a flashlight as their source of light. Alex and Dean walked along the trail carrying the bagged body: Alex with two shovels, Dean with the flashlight.

When they reached a sufficiently remote spot, they stopped and began digging a hole. While working, Alex received a message from Enid asking what he was doing. He glanced at Dean, then at the body in the bag leaning against a tree. Without thinking twice, he texted the truth.

Enid replied with a shocked face emoji… followed by a laughing one.

“Listen, you’ll have time to reply to your new girlfriend later,” Dean grumbled. “Right now, put the phone away and help finish digging this damn hole. I’m not staying in these woods another night.”

“Alright, alright, stop grumbling like an old man,” Alex smirked, sending the message and putting his phone away. “We’ll finish up and head back to the hotel soon.”

Grabbing a shovel, Alex began to deepen the hole. Once they had dug a sufficiently deep cavity, they both climbed out, lifted the body, and dropped it in. Wasting no time, Alex and Dean immediately started covering it up, then carefully worked to erase any signs of a fresh burial.

They had no desire for the local police with their dogs to accidentally stumble upon the site — the headache from that would be far worse than they needed right now.

When they finished, covered in dirt from head to toe, they headed back to the car to return to the hotel. Trying not to draw attention, Alex and Dean quickly went up to their room: to change clothes, wash off the dirt, and freshen up.

Alex was the first to hop into the shower, quickly cleaned up, came out, and flopped onto the couch, continuing his chat with Enid. She was telling him how her friends had reacted to him, then complained again about how noisy Wednesday’s typewriter was. Alex could only sympathize — with the heightened hearing of a werewolf, every click of the typewriter sounded like a tiny explosion in her ears.

“And what are we going to do?” Dean asked, coming out of the shower and drying his wet hair with a towel. “Crowley’s looking for traces of the shards of darkness again. And that demon didn’t come to Jericho for nothing.”

“We still don’t know if there’s an Amara shard here,” Alex replied without taking his eyes off his phone. “Maybe it’s just the consequences of her release. Lucas, the mayor’s son, and his two friends were infected by the darkness. Maybe there’s someone else. We need to check.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Dean asked, sitting on the bed. “Are we going to wander around the city until we stumble upon someone infected? Then what?”

“Start with Nevermore,” Alex said, turning to Dean. “I can’t check every student myself, but since we’re allowed on school grounds — that’s our chance. You’re starting to feel your new power, so you’ll be able to sense who’s infected. The main thing is to figure out if there’s an Amara shard here and who’s carrying it.”

“So tomorrow we’re wandering among monster kids looking for a clue… I hope at least the food is decent there,” Dean sighed, lying down on the couch.

“Enid said the food’s good,” Alex shrugged, burying himself back in his messages.

Dean just nodded and turned on the TV while Alex continued replying. He didn’t forget to check in with Samantha, Lucina, and Alice about the investigation. The girls wrote that they had already found several leads pointing to the killer of imaginary friends. Alex felt pleased — Samantha was clearly gaining experience under Sam’s guidance.

Closer to midnight, Alex fell asleep.

He woke up in the morning to a loud slam of the door. Peeking open his eyes, he saw Dean in regular clothes, coffee in one hand and a bag of pastries in the other. Alex raised an eyebrow in surprise: Dean had woken up before him? And gone out to get breakfast? That was rare.

Besides, Dean looked noticeably more awake.

Not fully understanding what was happening, Alex washed up and sat down to eat.

“What’s got you so pleased?” he asked, watching Dean sip his coffee.

“Just slept well. No other reason,” Dean replied shortly.

Alex nodded understandingly and didn’t press further, though he himself hadn’t slept well — he didn’t like spending the night alone, except for Zhang Ya, who lived in his shadow.

After breakfast, Alex changed clothes, and they went outside together. Sitting in the Impala, Alex leaned against the window, watching the passing scenery. The car glided smoothly down the road until they reached the gates of Nevermore.

Exiting the vehicle, Alex stretched and looked around. They had already discussed the plan for the day the night before, so now they calmly headed toward the academy grounds. Alex searched for Wednesday but had no idea where she might be or what she was doing today.

After a few minutes of wandering the campus, they finally spotted her. Wednesday was quietly speaking to Thing, giving him instructions to keep an eye on the new Rowan. Hearing footsteps, she instantly turned, and Thing tried to hide behind a column. But upon noticing Alex and Dean, he immediately returned, standing on his wrist and waving his fingers.

“Yo. What’s your plan for the day?” Alex asked, approaching and raising his hand.

“Wims is trying to control me. Because of her, I can’t get close to Rowan,” Wednesday replied, shifting her cold gaze toward them.

“And what does this terrifying, dreadful headmistress make the poor pale girl do?” Dean smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“She wants me to join one of the school clubs,” Wednesday said dryly.

“Let me guess: you don’t need that because you think clubs are a waste of time?” Dean asked, nodding as if he had uncovered a universal conspiracy.

“Bingo. Places like that exist only for pointless discussions about what a club should do. I can use that time much more effectively,” Wednesday said, crossing her arms.

“Then why not start your own club? Although… no, bad idea,” Alex said, thoughtfully stroking his chin.

“And why not?” Dean looked at him, puzzled. “Is it hard to start a club?”

“Wims will realize I did it just to get her off your back. Then she’ll start monitoring club activities,” Wednesday replied as if it were obvious to everyone.

“Then it’s better to choose a club with few members. Ideally — just one. And make sure it’s far from everyone else. You’ll create the appearance of involvement,” Alex suggested, giving a subtle hint.

Wednesday looked at him with her signature blank stare — something that would have unnerved any ordinary person. But she couldn’t deny that his words made sense. However, to make it convincing, she needed to show that she was genuinely considering her options, not just heading straight for the quietest club.

Nodding, Wednesday agreed. Alex offered to go along — he needed to survey the academy and observe the students anyway. He didn’t explain the reason, only mentioning that it was important for the investigation. That was enough for Wednesday.

Before leaving, Dean snorted:

“You two are just a pair of weirdos who think alike.”

And he hurried off to roam the school. Thing followed Dean in one direction — to keep an eye on the new Rowan, who had recently been expelled for attacking a classmate.

Alex just shook his head, while Wednesday flatly rejected the idea that she shared any personality traits with Alex.

“Which club should we start with?” Alex asked.

“The one that’s closer. I don’t want to waste extra time,” Wednesday replied.

Alex just shrugged and followed her.

The first club was the singing club, led by Bianca Barclay, a siren and Xavier Thorne’s ex-girlfriend. Alex already knew all about this thanks to Enid, who had vividly recounted Bianca’s breakup with Xavier and how their friendship had fallen apart.

The club wasn’t far, and as they approached, they could already hear singing. Stepping into the courtyard, they saw a rehearsal in progress. Wednesday approached Bianca to ask a few questions, but the conversation quickly shifted to vocals. In the end, Wednesday decided to demonstrate her “talent.”

The guy at the synthesizer didn’t even have time to blink before his glasses snapped in half, and the nearest windows became covered with a web of tiny cracks.

Alex, with his keen hearing, heard that tone as clearly as if someone had dragged a fork across glass — a sensation that was, to put it mildly, unpleasant.

“What was that?” Bianca asked, clearly confused.

“That tone can only be heard by dogs,” Wednesday replied coldly.

“I’m not a dog… but please, don’t do that again. My ears almost bled,” Alex said irritably, rubbing his ears.

Wednesday looked at Alex with interest — he was rubbing his ears and clearly annoyed after her stunt. It quickly became clear to her that his hearing was extremely sensitive — perhaps too much so.

Bianca also raised an eyebrow, studying Alex. She had initially assumed he was just an ordinary normie, but his behavior didn’t fit that picture. To her, Alex seemed like someone far more comfortable among outcasts than among regular people.

After exchanging a few more sharp remarks with Bianca, Wednesday left with Alex, who still looked irritated. She even had a fleeting thought that the reason Alex and Enid had gotten along so quickly might be because he was a shapeshifter. But she immediately dismissed the idea: there was not a hint of a werewolf’s nature in Alex’s behavior or manners.

After visiting a few more school clubs, they arrived at the area set up for the archery club. The club leader was Xavier Thorne — the very same boy who had feelings for Wednesday.

As soon as she approached, a smile lit up his face. But the smile vanished instantly when he noticed Alex’s satisfied expression. In its place came a scowl, almost a grimace.

“So you actually came?” Xavier said, trying to ignore Alex, who was looking around with interest. “I didn’t expect Headmistress Wims would manage to make you… Have you ever shot a bow before?”

“Only at living targets,” Wednesday replied in a cold tone.

“Understood… Alright. Stand here. Hold the arrow at a right angle. Yellow tip — up. Hold the tail with three fingers, draw, and release,” he began, explaining in the classic instructor’s voice.

When Xavier released the string, Alex barely moved a finger, subtly altering the arrow’s trajectory. The arrow missed the target and embedded itself in the protective barrier. Alex didn’t even try to hide his smirk — the little brat deserved a lesson after all the spiteful looks he had thrown his way.

Wednesday gave Xavier a calm, almost appraising look. He just picked up a new arrow, still not understanding what had happened. In his head flashed something like: “Strange, but it happens.”

“When was the last time you saw Rowan?” Wednesday asked.

“The one the monster tore apart? At the fair,” Xavier replied, drawing the bowstring. “After that, I didn’t speak to him. His things were already packed in the morning. Rowan’s always been strange… but lately, he’s been acting like he’s losing his mind. Telekinesis fries your brain if you overdo it. He started changing, and… he started scaring me.”

Xavier released the arrow — and Alex subtly nudged it with his finger again. The arrow went wide.

Alex struggled to suppress a laugh, putting on the most interested face of a bystander who just happened to be nearby.

Having missed twice already, Xavier began to suspect it was simply “not his day.” And worst of all — it was happening right in front of Wednesday… and Alex, whom he had already pegged as a romantic rival. If Alex had known what was going on in Xavier’s head, he definitely wouldn’t have held back from bursting out laughing.

Xavier frowned, grabbed another arrow, and shot again. Once more, Alex barely moved a finger. And again, the arrow missed.

Xavier instinctively looked at Alex. But Alex stood nearby, pretending to admire the surrounding scenery, not even listening to their conversation.

“So… what’s between you and this agent?” Xavier asked quietly, so only Wednesday could hear.

Wednesday raised an eyebrow at the question. She glanced at Alex for a moment, who pretended not to hear. But she didn’t answer — formally, she and Alex were only connected by a mutual goal: finding Rowan’s killer. Yet… she genuinely wanted to understand who he really was.

Xavier noticed her silence and frowned disapprovingly.

“Oh, of course,” he said irritably. “Only you get to ask ‘off-topic’ questions.”

“Nothing special,” Wednesday replied calmly. “We just have a deal. That’s all.”

She kept silent about something else — her desire to uncover all of Alex’s secrets.

“Want some advice?” Xavier handed her the bow. “Don’t get involved with these agents.”

“Because he’s a normie? Or because he works for the government?” Wednesday asked evenly.

“People like him hunt people like us,” Xavier said, glancing at Alex. “Their job is to destroy monsters. They didn’t touch my father only because his power is useful to them.”

“You’re making assumptions without knowing the person,” Wednesday replied. “It’s easy to judge when everything is handed to you on a silver platter.”

“Look who’s talking,” he snapped. “You’re no better.”

“You don’t know much about me. And I’m not a high-and-mighty snob,” she said coldly, taking an arrow.

Wednesday stepped back, picked up an apple from a crate, returned to the shooting line, and tossed the fruit into the air. At the moment the apple hovered at the peak of its arc, she released the arrow. It pinned the apple precisely to the center of the target.

Xavier froze. Alex clapped his hands, genuinely impressed.

Wednesday turned at the sound, looked at Alex, and handed him the bow. He just shrugged, took the weapon, and three arrows.

Three quick shots.

The first arrow hit exactly the shaft of Wednesday’s arrow. The next two struck the same spot with perfect precision. The apple, pierced through, split cleanly and fell to the ground in two even halves.

Wednesday was even slightly surprised — and that was worth a lot. Xavier, meanwhile, frowned even more deeply.

Alex, with a friendly smile, returned the bow to Xavier. Then he stepped in a way that Wednesday couldn’t see their faces, leaned closer, and put on a mocking grin.

“You’re only right about one thing, kid,” Alex said in a lazy, almost velvety tone. “I am dangerous. But definitely not to insecure kids like you. Before judging others, take a look at yourself. And stop being a pathetic nobody who can’t even handle your own inferiority complex.”

He looked Xavier straight in the eyes — calm, confident, and slightly predatory.

Alex hated dealing with idiots like Xavier. But this time, the boy really started to irritate him — enough that Alex was a step away from punching him.

Xavier, meanwhile, stared at Alex’s predatory smile, revealing sharp, almost unnatural teeth. Just the sight of it left his mouth dry, and a lump rose in his throat that he couldn’t swallow.

Wednesday stood behind Alex and couldn’t see his face, but she felt he was doing something… unpleasant. When Alex finished “explaining” to Xavier what could happen if he continued acting so boldly, he returned to his kind, serene smile — as if he hadn’t just hinted to Xavier that he was far scarier than the boy could imagine.

Seeing fear in Xavier’s eyes, Alex simply shook his head. After all, he was just a teenager. He hadn’t seen much — it was natural that his reaction would be sharp.

Patting him on the shoulder, Alex turned to Wednesday and suggested they move on.

Wednesday looked at Xavier and noticed fear, as if he had seen not a human, but a monster. Then she looked back at Alex, trying to understand exactly what he had said to create such an effect.

As they left the training area, Alex felt a gaze on him again. He turned his head — and saw Principal Weems observing him through binoculars from her office window.

Seeing her, Alex bowed politely: one hand on his chest, the other extended to the side — like an old-fashioned gentleman.

Wednesday noticed the gesture, followed his gaze, and made out a white figure in the window. The observer’s identity was immediately obvious.

“How did you know she was watching?” she asked.

“That’s a secret, dear Wednesday,” Alex said with a soft smile, moving forward. “And to share things like that… people need to get to know each other better.”

“I told you: stop calling me that. Then tell me — what did you say to Xavier? Why did he look scared?” she asked coldly, walking beside him.

“I just told him that it’s rude to judge someone behind their back. And… smiled,” Alex replied casually, tossing a candy into his mouth.

“What kind of smile can scare a person?” she pressed further.

“The most ordinary kind. The smile of someone who hides their true face under a dozen masks,” Alex said softly, looking her in the eyes.

“And what do you hide under your mask?” Wednesday raised an eyebrow.

“Who knows? Maybe my true face. Or maybe… who I’ve always been. Only my family knows what’s under the mask,” he smirked.

Wednesday frowned. Alex again dodged the question, speaking in hints as if he were deliberately trying to confuse her. Realizing it was impossible to get the truth from him right now, she stayed silent and continued walking beside him.

Alex hummed a light melody, as if strolling through a park rather than the grounds of a grim academy.

Soon they reached a secluded corner of the school, almost at the edge of the forest. The air was filled with quiet buzzing vibrations, and before them appeared a scene: dozens of colorful beehives and a small house shaped like a giant hive.

As they approached, a short young man in a beekeeper’s suit stepped out of the house. This was Eugene Ottinger — kind, friendly, and obsessively loyal to his friends.

Alex couldn’t shake the thought: why does Eugene need a suit if he can control the bees? The question kept spinning in his mind as he looked at the boy.

Wednesday, of course, paid no attention to the bees or the suits — she simply didn’t care.

“Are you interested in the ancient art of beekeeping?” Eugene asked, trying to appear as friendly as possible. “My name is Eugene Ottinger. Founder and president of the ‘Buzzing Club.'”

“Wednesday Addams. And this is Alexander Voldigoad; he’s just coming along for company,” Wednesday introduced him.

“I know him!” Eugene brightened. “The young federal agent everyone in the school is talking about.”

“Yo, chum. Looks like things are pretty lively here,” Alex said, raising a hand in greeting.

“Not really… life in the hive isn’t for everyone. The kids are just afraid of insects and stings,” Eugene admitted, looking embarrassed.

“I wasn’t talking about the kids,” Alex smirked, pointing upward.

The bees settled on his hair, like ornaments.

“Want to feel a bee sting?” Eugene asked with a wide grin.

Alex’s eye twitched ever so slightly at the suggestion, but Wednesday heard exactly what she needed: he’s the only member of the club. That meant she had a chance to show Principal Weems that she had officially joined, and Weems would stop pestering her with questions. No one would ask why she hadn’t appeared or what she had been doing — the perfect cover.

Wednesday immediately went off to change into the protective suit, while Alex stayed standing, letting the bees fly freely around him. They couldn’t sting him anyway — his body was strong enough to survive even the complete destruction of the universe. A bee sting would do him absolutely nothing. And they had no intention of attacking anyway: Alex smelled pleasant, so the bees calmly circled him and even landed on his clothes.

Eugene watched in genuine amazement as dozens of bees crawled over Alex — and not a single one even attempted to sting him.

A minute later, Wednesday came out in the protective suit, while Eugene continued explaining that the bee community was matriarchal, with no place for patriarchy. Alex listened attentively and nodded, but in reality, he was thinking about something else: whether to ask Eugene for a jar of honey to make a honey cake. The thought instantly sparked a craving for something sweet.

But before he could open his mouth, Wednesday grabbed his hand and pulled him along. Alex didn’t immediately understand what was happening until he saw Thing running ahead. Only then did he remember: Wednesday had sent Thing to follow the “new” Rowan — the one who had already been expelled.

On the move, she shrugged off her protective suit, and Alex quickly caught it to return it to Eugene later. Reaching the main courtyard of the academy, they saw Rowan trying to cram suitcases into a car that was far too small, belonging to Marilyn Thornhill — also known as Laurel Gates.

“Rowan, wait. We need to talk,” Wednesday said, approaching him as he struggled futilely with a suitcase.

“Wednesday, I don’t have time for talking,” he waved her off.

“You were a lot more talkative when you were trying to kill me,” she said coldly.

“And when you tried to run from me, throwing a log at me,” added Alex, in the same calm tone and with a faint smile.

“Sorry, Agent… I don’t know what came over me back then. I didn’t mean to throw the log at you. I just got scared when you fired into the air,” Rowan mumbled, wearing a guilty expression.

“Why did you say in the forest that I was doomed to destroy the school? Where did you get that drawing you showed me?” Wednesday pressed.

“I was just walking in the forest. And you chased after me,” Rowan replied calmly.

Wednesday frowned sharply at that. She remembered perfectly: he couldn’t have thrown a log at Alex. Alex hadn’t fired into the air — he had shot at the monster. The lie was obvious. Alex placed a hand on her shoulder, signaling not to press harder.

At that moment, Marilyn Thornhill — the one who was supposed to take Rowan to the station — approached.

“Wednesday, you better leave. Rowan doesn’t have time to answer questions,” she said firmly, leaving no room for objection.

“Yes, Wednesday. Leave me alone and stop pestering me with your questions,” Rowan blurted, hurriedly climbing into the car and slamming the door.

As the “new” Rowan got in, the car immediately sped off, giving Wednesday no chance to ask even one more question. Alex continued smiling, gently holding her shoulder, while Wednesday — darker than a thundercloud — watched the car drive away.

Alex caught a glimpse of Thing, who had somehow latched onto the trunk lid, and already knew what he would bring back: bad news. Tracking Rowan would be difficult… especially considering that this wasn’t Rowan at all, but Director Weems in his form.

“What do you think?” Wednesday asked, turning her head toward Alex.

“That’s definitely not Rowan,” he replied, still smiling as if everything happening were part of his plan. “But who it actually is—that’s the question. Those who knew him said he’s not very talkative. It’s hard to figure out his true nature. And the log he mentioned? I left that. And I spread the rumor too.”

“You did it to see if someone would cover their tracks?” Wednesday asked.

“Bingo, my dear Wednesday. Now we just need to figure out who exactly. And the pool of suspects… is very large,” Alex said thoughtfully.

“I see where you’re going with this. But tell me… how long are you going to keep your hand on my shoulder?” she asked coldly, looking him straight in the eyes.

“As long as you allow it,” Alex replied calmly.

Words weren’t necessary. Wednesday simply grabbed his hand, tried to twist a finger—unsuccessfully, of course—and then removed his palm from her shoulder. She turned and walked away.

Alex watched her go and quietly smirked before following. First, he returned Eugene’s protective bee suit, and then went looking for Dean. He found him in the cafeteria. Sitting across, Alex quickly recounted everything he had learned while running around Nevermore after Wednesday. Dean, in turn, shared what he had managed to gather from the teenagers—and added that he hadn’t found a single trace of Darkness among the students.

To be continued…

(I’m wondering if I should skip some events or not. These events seem to help Alex get closer to two girls. Hmm… Another difficult question. Anyway, I’ll do what I always do. Write down everything that’s said in my head. They’re never wrong. Except when they advise kicking someone into the street just because that bastard got in front of me.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep