“Well, that was a fucking disaster,” Oliver muttered.
He had nearly been caught.
If Principal Weems had spotted him behind the counter, there would’ve been no talking his way out of it.
Wednesday was one thing.
Getting questioned by the headmistress was something else entirely.
The familiar blue screen appeared.
[Congratulations. You have prevented a major plot.]
[The meeting between Wednesday Addams and Tyler Galpin has been successfully interrupted.]
[As a result, the love-hate relationship that originally developed between the two can no longer begin from this point in time.]
Victory music played unnecessarily in the background.
[Reward Acquired: 1 Uncommon Modification.]
“One Uncommon. That’s good.” Oliver had no idea what it could actually do, but higher-rarity modifications weren’t easy to obtain.
Whatever it turned out to be, it was worth it.
The system continued narrating like someone reading the next chapter of a book he hadn’t asked for.
Oliver stopped listening.
That night, Oliver returned after dark as usual.
“As usual, no one can catch me,” he muttered, hopping over the academy wall and landing in a patch of bushes.
He brushed the leaves off, checked the grounds, and slipped inside.
As he crossed the Quad toward Caliban Hall, approaching footsteps made him stop.
He ducked behind one of the stone pillars lining the walkway.
A scrawny boy in glasses with a single book tucked under his arm was sneaking through the grounds.
Nervous, clearly not heading back to his dorm.
I’ve seen him somewhere.
Then it clicked.
Right.
That guy.
The one who’d eventually be gutted by the Hyde.
Telekinesis, if Oliver remembered correctly — but the ability constantly overwhelmed him, leaving him mentally unstable and barely in control of himself.
Oliver couldn’t even remember his name.
Still, his death wasn’t unimportant.
He left behind clues that eventually led Wednesday toward the prophecy about her destiny — save Nevermore or destroy it.
A significant piece of the investigation, handed over by a dead boy.
Poor guy.
Basically sacrificed for the plot.
Oliver had no intention of getting involved.
The kid was mentally unstable, obsessed with his late mother’s prophecy, and so convinced Wednesday would destroy Nevermore that he’d eventually try to kill her to prevent it.
Getting near him was just asking for another pile of plot-induced chaos.
Oliver had already changed enough of the timeline for one day.
He waited until the boy disappeared around the corner, then continued toward Caliban Hall.
***
The next day, Botany class was held in the greenhouse.
Oliver sat beside Enid, with Wednesday on Enid’s other side.
At the front, Marilyn Thornhill moved between the rows wearing her usual red attire and warm smile, the picture of a welcoming teacher.
Oliver wasn’t fooled.
Certified red-haired psychopath.
“The Rafflesia arnoldii, commonly known as the corpse flower, produces the largest individual flower in the world,” Thornhill said, walking the rows.
“Its scent resembles rotting flesh, attracting flies and carrion beetles as pollinators.”
“Most people dismiss plants as passive organisms, but they compete for sunlight, poison predators, communicate through underground fungal networks, and adapt to environments where most living things would perish.” She smiled.
“Nature isn’t kind. It’s simply efficient.”
Students scribbled notes.
Oliver leaned back, listening with half an ear.
She really does know her botany.
Shame about the homicidal maniac part.
“Even the strongest outcasts would die if exposed to nightshade poison,” Thornhill said, scanning the class.
“Can anyone tell me why?”
Wednesday raised her hand without waiting to be called on.
“Nightshade contains tropane alkaloids that bind to muscarinic receptors, disrupting the autonomic nervous system.”
The faintest trace of satisfaction crossed her face.
“I find it one of the more elegant poisons. Efficient, if administered carefully, and historically underappreciated.” Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Thornhill smiled.
“Exactly.” She picked up a small purple flower.
“Never assume your outcast abilities make you immune to nature. Plants don’t discriminate.”
“Venom is venom, poison is poison, and arrogance has killed far more people than any flower ever has.”
Bianca’s smirk appeared just loud enough to carry.
“Figures. Only a Weirdo would know that much about poisons.”
A few students chuckled.
Enid sighed quietly beside Oliver.
“I consider it basic knowledge,” Wednesday replied flatly, not glancing in Bianca’s direction.
Of course she does, Oliver thought.
If anyone at this school reads poison encyclopedias for fun, it’s Wednesday Addams.
She probably has opinions on which ones are overrated.
Thornhill clapped once.
“Today’s practical is simple. Identify the plant in front of you, list its properties, and determine whether it’s a poison, a medicine, or both.”
“As with most things in nature, the difference is usually dosage. You may begin.”
Oliver looked at the plant in front of him.
He had absolutely no idea what it was.
He leaned toward Enid.
“Is this going to kill me if I touch it?”
Enid glanced at it.
“Probably not.”
“Probably?”
Wednesday looked over without being asked.
“Fanged Geranium. Touching it won’t kill you. Ingesting it causes stomach pain for a day.” A brief pause.
“I’m very much encouraging you to eat it.”
Oliver stared at the plant.
“Great. Very reassuring.”