Chapter 163: Anonymous fan



Past six in the morning, the rays of the sun filtered through the window panes and landed on the bed where Luke and Wednesday rested.

The two of them had spent almost two hours talking since Luke regained consciousness. They hadn’t informed anyone else because a morning check-up was scheduled for eight o’clock, and they’d find out then. Besides, the two of them wanted to talk alone.

Luke could send a telepathic message to Natasha to have her come, but he knew Wednesday would get angry if he did. She insisted he rest after suffering an PLPE. She was bossy and strict in that regard.

Additionally, Natasha would likely scold him as well for using his powers after such an event.

‘Damn PLPE, I can’t use my powers without getting scolded,’ Luke thought. Although Wednesday’s concern for him gave him a pleasant feeling.

He had even managed to get her to feed him. Of course, he had to pretend his arms hurt and that he couldn’t eat on his own.

Wednesday was sleeping in her usual “coffin-like” position, deeply and soundly. When the sunlight hit her, she instinctively sought shelter, hiding her head against Luke’s arm, breaking her usual posture.

Luke hugged her to shield her from the sunlight. He had to take advantage of the opportunity to hold her; situations like this didn’t come around often. Since she hadn’t slept in two days, she was exhausted and ended up sleeping with Luke after their conversation.

One of the topics they discussed was Wednesday recounting what had happened after Luke lost consciousness.

Raven Island, burning and with intermittent explosions, had caught the attention of the staff overseeing Nevermore, as it fell under their jurisdiction. Consequently, Larissa, accompanied by several teachers and marginal police agents, arrived shortly after Dolores’ death.

When the marginal police agents learned about Crackstone’s resurrection, the situation became far more serious than anyone had anticipated, prompting more people to arrive at Nevermore.

To everyone’s relief and surprise, Crackstone had been murdered, and the sole purpose of his resurrection seemed to have been to kill him. As a result, there weren’t significant legal complications since an Addams had settled the old grudge tied to their family.

As for Dolores’ interference, it wasn’t something that required extensive investigation. It also stemmed from another grudge involving one of the individuals responsible for reviving Crackstone.

Wednesday underwent a simple interrogation, primarily to clarify a few details. The only thing that could be considered a crime was the ritual she and Luke had performed, which required mutilated body parts from various corpses.

This ritual was public knowledge due to the last blood moon. The marginal police already knew the limbs were needed for the ritual, and it was a crime on both the normie and outcast sides if innocent victims were harmed.

However, Wednesday had prepared for this. One of her contingency plans accounted for the possibility of killing Crackstone while the marginal police arrived at the scene and witnessed it.

When she and Luke killed the gang members to obtain the limbs, Wednesday made sure to gather evidence proving the gang members had attempted to kill them. This established that they had acted in self-defense, and for the marginal police, the evidence was sufficient.

Luke glanced at Wednesday, her face barely visible as it was tucked against his arm. He ensured she was soundly asleep before extending his domain to locate a table beyond his line of sight. There, he spotted three items of interest: his phone and two letters.

‘Did they really send me a letter? In 2022?’ thought Luke as he used his telekinesis to bring the items toward him.

When Wednesday mentioned he had received letters, he assumed she meant messages or emails. Knowing how outdated she was when it came to technology, he thought she was still using the term “letter” to refer to electronic messages in this day and age.

As for his phone, Natasha had brought it, or so Wednesday had said. Luke wasn’t stupid; if he had taken it to the fight against Crackstone, his brand-new iPhone would have been destroyed.

Luke unlocked his phone first. It was flooded with notifications, both from messages to his personal number and on his main social media accounts-though he was used to the latter. There were messages from Xavier, Ajax, and other classmates who had somehow gotten his number. Even Gia, an old fling of his, had messaged him, asking if he was okay and mentioning she’d heard the news through her friend, Erika.

Xavier and Ajax had sent him dozens of messages and had called him multiple times.

Luke understood why they had sent so many messages. Only a few people knew he had fallen into an unconscious state, meaning the PLPE. It was more serious than he’d initially thought. [I’m fine. Had an PLPE… but I’m awake now. Lucky, I guess. I’ll explain more later] Luke sent a message to the group chat he shared with the two of them.

He then took the time to reply to other classmates, especially those he was closer to, like the ones he shared the psychic powers class with.

Having finished that, Luke picked up the letter dated two days ago, right when he had fallen into unconsciousness.

‘Let’s see what this is,’ he thought as he opened the letter, curiosity piqued.

[Dear Luke:

I’m writing this letter to wish you a swift recovery. I know you’ve suffered an PLPE, and it’s possible you won’t read this letter or respond to it anyway, as you wouldn’t know where to send a reply.

With your incredible achievements, I know you’ll overcome this, but even so, I’ll pray every day, hoping you’ll open your eyes.

Sending you many kisses.

Signed: Your number one fan]

Luke’s expression shifted to one of confusion as he finished reading the letter. Why on earth was someone writing to him in such a formal tone? And who in the world had written this?

A fan? Were they a fan of his published works? The letter didn’t mention any of them. All it said was that they wished for his recovery.

It couldn’t have been a normie, as none of them knew he had fought and nearly died. It had to be someone from the society of outcasts. Additionally, they knew he had suffered an PLPE, something not everyone was aware of.

‘This is weird… When did I get my first stalker?’ Luke thought as he folded the letter and

opened the next one.

[Dear Luke,

It’s me again. I’m writing this so that, once you regain consciousness and read this, you’ll know that there was always someone hoping for your recovery.

Unfortunately, this might be the last letter I can send you that will reach you, as otherwise, I might risk revealing my identity. Along with the letter, I’ve sent you a small gift-something to fill your stomach.

That’s all. I will continue praying for you, even though I won’t be able to send more letters to tell you so.

Sending you many kisses.

Signed: Your number one fan]

Luke furrowed his brows slightly. This fan was very odd. Who the hell says, “I will continue praying for you”? He or she must be religious.

Using his telekinesis, he focused again on the table where he had picked up the letters and his phone. There was a fruit basket sitting there-that must be the gift this person sent.

He brought the basket over to him with his telekinesis. It was medium-sized, filled with bananas, apples, and grapes.

He picked up a red apple and sniffed it carefully. He had to make sure these fruits weren’t poisoned or anything. He didn’t want to end up like Snow White, falling unconscious like a princess after taking a bite of a juicy apple.

‘Doesn’t seem like there’s anything wrong…’ Luke thought, taking a bite of the apple.

His so-called number one fan seemed overly concerned about his health-almost too much,

to the point of being a little creepy. It would be strange if their real intention was to kill him. Such a roundabout method of murder would be odd.

The apple was delicious, and nothing happened to him, so he continued eating it while

looking at the letter again.

“Who could this fan be?” he wondered.

‘It must be an outcast working for the council who was sent here and found out I suffered an

PLPE, or maybe a relative of someone who knows about it and learned through them,’ thought Luke, slightly intrigued but not overly concerned.

He didn’t have time to solve this little mystery, and the person seemed to have good intentions toward him while wanting to keep their identity hidden, so he decided not to

actively pursue the matter.

Wednesday woke up before eight. Her sleepy face was very cute, Luke thought. She scolded him a little when she found out he’d used his powers to bring the phone and other items to the

bed.

“It’s better for you to walk than to use your psychic powers,” Wednesday said with a sharp

glare.

“Sorry, boss. It won’t happen again,” Luke replied, feigning remorse.

“I don’t believe a single word you’re saying,” Wednesday said, frowning. “Don’t scold me, I’m too tired from using my powers,” Luke said in a weary voice, as he

wrapped his arms around Wednesday’s waist and gently rested his head against her abdomen,

as if seeking comfort.

Wednesday, who was about to continue reprimanding him, sighed inwardly and allowed the gesture. With her fingers, she began to softly stroke Luke’s hair.

‘Why is it so hard to scold him?’ thought Wednesday, struggling against the urge to push him away and make a cutting remark.

Not even with her younger brother did she allow such spoiled-child behavior. If she needed to reprimand someone and point out their mistakes, she would do so without hesitation.

If Luke hadn’t suffered an PLPE, she wouldn’t be so lenient with him. Luke realized this and knew he needed to make the most of the situation.

He was starting to drift off to sleep under Wednesday’s gentle strokes in his hair-it was a soothing and pleasant feeling. Unfortunately, the sound of the infirmary door opening interrupted the moment as someone headed toward them. Wednesday immediately pulled

away and stood up.

Luke didn’t mind. He knew she would never show others, not even her parents, how affectionate she could be with him. She always maintained a cold demeanor and an expression

devoid of emotion in front of others.

Luke adjusted himself in the patient bed and waited for the group of people to arrive.

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