Chapter 160: On the limit



“Dolores Spellman,” said Fester, his dark, sunken eyes fixed on Dolores.

“This is a matter that involves the Poe and Spellman families. Take your niece and leave,” Dolores said, her brow furrowed.

Luke couldn’t believe that this toad-faced woman could be so shameless. That blow would have killed Wednesday or left her in a vegetative state. Besides, she had already tried to get rid of her before.

Fester began laughing in his peculiar way at Dolores’s comment, which made her scowl even more at the bald man’s unpleasant laughter.

“Your family has grown bolder over time!” Fester said, struggling to stop laughing.

“Uncle, help me kill her,” Wednesday said, stepping forward.

Fester’s expression turned to one of surprise. He hadn’t expected his perpetually apathetic niece to use the word “help” in a sentence.

As for Luke, he was already more accustomed to Wednesday using the word help with him. She had asked for his help to resurrect Crackstone and eliminate him, or with her novel. It no longer seemed so strange to him.

“If you help me kill her, I’ll introduce you to a wife,” Luke said, stepping forward as well.

He couldn’t pass up this great opportunity to get rid of Elliot’s wife. Fester was clearly furious about Wednesday’s condition, who had nearly died from Dolores’s attack.

Fester looked at Luke with a strange expression.

‘A wife? What the hell was this boy,’ who seemed on the brink of death, talking about? His condition was much worse than Wednesday’s, and that was saying a lot, considering she was also covered in wounds and struggling to stay on her feet.

“I doubt you’ll be much help in this fight,” Fester said, eyeing the bleeding wound near Luke’s lower obliques. That was his worst injury, and it was still bleeding, causing him to lose more blood.

Luke winced at Fester’s comment. He was right, but if he pushed himself, he could keep fighting for a few more minutes. If it meant getting rid of Dolores, he would accept the pain he would suffer. No pain, no gain.

“My uncle’s right. Rest. You’re in no condition to keep going,” Wednesday said, looking at Luke with concern. Beyond his wounds, she could see a large vein pulsing on his forehead.

You’re not the best person to say it…’ Luke thought.

“I don’t need help from either of you. Just rest, Wednesday,” Fester said, turning his gaze back to Dolores.

Fester had already decided to fight Dolores to the death, regardless of Wednesday’s or Luke’s requests. He wasn’t about to let it slide that Wednesday had nearly died at the hands of this woman. He didn’t care about the grudge between the Poe and Spellman families.

“Even in your pathetic condition, you’re still thinking about killing me! You’re truly arrogant, Luke Poe,” Dolores said with a sharp, unpleasant laugh.

She had overheard the conversation, which gave her more time to heal. She had taken an electric kick to the face that caused internal damage and disrupted her regeneration in one of her eyes, slowing her healing process. If she wanted to kill Luke, she needed to be in optimal condition to fight Fester and eventually attack Luke.

“Aren’t you giving yourself too much credit, toad? If I hadn’t fought Crackstone to the death, I’d have smashed your damn head in several times by now. Your regenerative ability would’ve only prolonged your suffering,” Luke said, gritting his teeth in fury.

Dolores’s mocking expression vanished. She knew Luke had a point. She had fallen into several of Luke’s illusions, and if he had been in optimal condition, he could have hit her, causing significant damage. Adding Wednesday to that equation, she likely would have died much faster than Crackstone.

‘Crackstone?’ Fester thought with some confusion.

Fester shook the thought off and launched himself at Dolores. His body was enveloped in a dense current of blue lightning, crackling with electrifying energy that lit up the surroundings. In the blink of an eye, he was already in front of Dolores.

The impact was immediate: Fester’s electricity-cloaked arm struck directly against Dolores’s forearm, which she had barely managed to raise in defense. She couldn’t compete in speed against an electrokinetic user.

Despite her strength, enhanced by her green aura, Dolores couldn’t prevent herself from being flung backward several meters. The electricity coursed through her body, causing her muscles to tense involuntarily.

Mid-flight, Dolores displayed remarkable agility, twisting in the air and landing firmly on the ground, her boots sinking slightly into the earth to absorb the impact.

‘Gomez’s older brother…’ Luke thought, surprised by the significant advantage Fester had over Dolores.

Though it was obvious Fester outmatched her in speed thanks to his electrokinesis, his offensive power wasn’t far behind he might even surpass Dolores in that regard.

Wednesday stopped watching the fight, which had moved farther away, and turned her gaze toward Luke.

“Rest,” Wednesday said, her tone sounding more like a command.

“You’re still on about that… The best chance to kill that woman is now. While she’s fighting Fester, we can attack her stealthily,” Luke said, his expression reluctant.

“Not we. I will go. You will rest. Your condition is worse than mine-you’ve lost too much blood and overused your powers. If you continue, it will be dangerous,” Wednesday said in an irrefutable tone.

Seeing that Luke wasn’t entirely convinced, Wednesday changed her approach.

“Please, Luke. You’ve already done more than enough. Leave the rest to me,” she said softly, gently grasping Luke’s sleeve.

Luke stared at her, surprised by her choice of words.

It was rare for her to use the word “please” in a sentence, even rarer than the word “help.”

“Fine… I’ll rest,” Luke said. He couldn’t say no to the cute expression of concern Wednesday

was wearing.

Wednesday smiled faintly, relieved that her stubborn boyfriend would stop pushing himself into an even more critical state. She helped him sit down on the ground, propping his back against the trunk of a tree.

“I’ll take care of delivering the final blow to that woman. Don’t worry,” Wednesday said.

“Don’t put yourself in a dangerous situation,” Luke replied.

“Relax, I’m an expert in decapitation attacks,” Wednesday said before heading toward the spot where Fester and Dolores were fighting.

Wednesday felt very guilty about the theft of the demonic book. She had insisted on coming here to revive Crackstone and had asked Luke for help. Her main reason was to put an end to her family’s grudge and ensure that when her brother arrived at Nevermore next year, he wouldn’t face any danger since the book would be gone.

However, she had been arrogant. She should have realized that the Spellmans would be watching this place.

Because of her, Luke’s enemies had obtained a demonic book, and he had shouldered most of the burden in the fights against Crackstone and Dolores. She couldn’t accept that. She had to

fix her mistake.

Once Wednesday was far enough away, Luke struggled back to his feet. He even spat a bit of blood in the process. His legs trembled like jelly, but he still had one bullet left in the

chamber.

‘I’ll send that bitch to join her children,’ thought Luke with a slightly manic expression. He wouldn’t let such a good opportunity slip away, even if Wednesday wanted to stop him.

He appreciated her concern, but he couldn’t let her put herself in danger while he rested. He had to make sure nothing happened to Wednesday.

Luke only kept his domain active within a range of 500 meters, focusing on the area where Fester and Dolores were fighting and where Wednesday was hiding. He had to remain unseen by her, or she would drag him back to the tree and force him to rest.

The battle between Fester and Dolores was devastating. Many trees were destroyed by Fester’s lightning strikes and Dolores’s incredible physical strength, which she used to hurl rocks weighing hundreds of kilograms and to tear up the ground, creating craters in her attempts to fend off her opponent.

Fester was clearly dominating. His body glowed with an endless electrical energy, and his movements were swift, almost impossible to follow. Dolores, on the other hand, showed clear signs of exhaustion.

Her clothes were in tatters, scorched by constant shocks, and her frizzed hair reflected the static tension building in her body. She bore numerous external and internal wounds, and though her regeneration struggled to heal them, it couldn’t keep up with the damage.

She knew that if the fight continued at this pace, killing Luke would be the last thing she could think about. She would be the one to die-at the hands of Fester Addams, no less. It was no surprise he was Gomez’s older brother.

In a desperate bid to buy time, Dolores dug her fingers deep into the hardened ground. With a

guttural effort, she lifted a massive block of compacted earth and stones, hurling it toward Fester with all her might.

The massive projectile surged forward like a miniature avalanche. Fester had no choice but to

retreat quickly to avoid being crushed.

‘Now,’ thought Luke.

With the little energy he had recovered, Luke entered Dolores’s mind. He broke through her

defenses and manipulated one of her senses: her hearing. He focused on reproducing a voice

he knew would destabilize her.

“Mom…” a soft voice echoed in the air. Dolores’s expression shifted to one of surprise and

faint hope.

She recognized the voice as her daughter Ingrid’s. But that was impossible. Could she have

somehow survived?

The voice of Ingrid (Sabrina) sounded again, and Dolores quickly turned her head toward the source. What she saw left her stunned-and not in a good way.

She saw Luke standing a few meters away, smirking mockingly as he held up a ruby necklace that had once belonged to Ingrid.

The ruby’s gleam drew Dolores’s attention like a magnet. She immediately recognized her daughter’s necklace and was painfully reminded that Ingrid was dead, murdered by the

smirking Poe boy in front of her.

Dolores’s body began to tremble with rage as she realized Luke was merely toying with her. The faint hope that her daughter might still be alive vanished instantly.

Dolores let out a guttural, furious roar-a mother’s scream of anguish and rage over the loss

of her two children, with their murderer standing before her. A green aura began to radiate

from her body.

She charged at Luke with a speed double what she had used before, leaving a trail of

destruction in her wake.

From the shadows, Wednesday observed the scene with her heart racing.

‘That idiot!’ she thought as she emerged from her hiding spot and ran toward Luke’s position.

She was too far to use her shadow-travel ability to close the distance. Her energy was too limited for that right now, so she had to get closer.

Fester also began to move toward Luke, but neither he nor Wednesday would make it in time.

Luke stood still, watching as Dolores charged toward him at breakneck speed. His breathing was deep and controlled, his mind fully focused.

The first step of his plan had worked. Taking a trophy of war after killing Sabrina had paid off.

Now Dolores radiated an intense killing intent. Everything depended on his observation haki to dodge the incoming strike. Luke focused solely on this ability: precognition.

He felt the need to briefly close his eyes. In that moment, a mental image unfolded before

him—a projection showing Dolores raising her right fist and striking him squarely in the left lung. The exact trajectory of her attack.

Luke’s eyes snapped open. Dolores was already closer. In just a second, she was in front of

him.

She planted her foot firmly on the ground, just as Luke had seen in his vision. The shockwave

of her arrival kicked up dust and fragments of rock, but Luke remained unmoved, his

concentration unbroken.

Dolores’s fist hurtled toward his left lung. Luke manipulated a telekinetic wave to slide

himself to the side with perfect precision and timing.

Her strike missed him by mere centimeters, the force of the blow cleaving through the air, but

he was already out of range.

Luke couldn’t celebrate achieving true precognition. The plan had three steps, and he’d only

completed two.

In the exact moment that Dolores’s arm missed, Luke took advantage and extended his hand toward her. His middle and index fingers barely brushed against her forehead.

‘Take this, you bitch!’ Luke thought, squeezing all his mental strength and more if he could. The effect was immediate. Dolores’s eyes widened as her body convulsed slightly. The green aura surrounding her flickered, as though her rage and strength were crumbling under the

pain invading her mind.

Dolores felt as if a swarm of venomous insects was burrowing into her brain, each sting so sharp and precise that it seemed her skull was about to shatter. She couldn’t breathe normally; the pain momentarily extinguished her ability to focus, think, or even move with

coordination.

At that moment, Fester and Wednesday arrived, seizing the opportunity Luke had created.

Wednesday held a longer dark knife than before, and Fester had concentrated a massive amount of electrical energy in his hand. With a swift, lethal movement, Wednesday drove the dark knife directly into Dolores’s missing eye, piercing through her skull and into her brain. The blade sank in up to the hilt, and Wednesday, with unexpected strength, twisted the weapon inside, ensuring maximum damage.

Simultaneously, Fester plunged his hand directly into Dolores’s chest, striking where her heart beat. The electric discharge was devastating. The energy coursed through her body, charring her internal tissues and stopping her heart.

Dolores fell to her knees, her glassy eyes staring forward in disbelief. Blood poured from her

pierced eye, and smoke rose from her chest where the electric strike had hit. Her expression was a mix of agony, helplessness, and fury, but most of all, profound disbelief.

Her hate-filled gaze landed one last time on Luke, who smiled faintly in victory, despite his

wretched state.

With her brain stabbed and her heart destroyed, Dolores’s body fell to the ground with a dull thud, lifeless. She was dead.

Wednesday and Fester turned their gazes toward Luke, each with different emotions. It was astounding that he had managed to create such an opportunity despite his condition. Luke, his face pale and his body utterly drained, felt his legs give way under his own weight.

He collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. Now, there wasn’t a shred of strength left in him. ‘This could be the end of Spider-Man?’ Luke thought as darkness enveloped him, and he lost consciousness. His body slumped to the ground.

The last thing he perceived was the hurried sound of Wednesday’s footsteps and the echo of

her worried voice calling his name.

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