Wednesday: The Strongest Psychic

Chapter 169: Jealous?



Greendale

In a more secluded area of the town of Greendale stood a mansion built of grayish stone, with large windows. This was the mansion of the patriarch of the Spellman family.

However, only one living member of this branch of the family remained in the mansion: Elliot Spellman.

His wife and two children had been murdered by Luke Poe, with the help of Wednesday and Fester (the latter assisted in killing his wife).

Near the grand mansion lay a cemetery, its gravestones covered in moss and its angel statues in a state of disrepair.

Deeper within the cemetery, three newly constructed structures stood.

Three sarcophagi, each bearing inscriptions engraved on wrought iron doors and adorned with ornamental details.

The one in the center bore the name Dolores. The one to its right bore the name Ingrid, and the one to its left, Sebastian.

Sitting cross-legged on the stone floor and staring at the three sarcophagi with an impassive expression was Elliot Spellman. His gaze shifted from his daughter's name to his wife's and then to his son's. Once he completed the sequence, he repeated it in reverse.

After repeating this process dozens of times, his gaze dropped to his lap. Specifically, to a book resting there-the demonic book of Crackstone.

'The Book of Soyga...' Elliot thought, his eyes unwavering.

He had finally managed to get his hands on the book he had coveted so much. But at what cost?

Elliot hadn't told Edward or the demonic elders who still lived about the demonic book. He had no intention of doing so, as they would undoubtedly take it from him.

He had learned the location of the book. His wife and two children had died to obtain it. Why would he give the book to Edward? Edward would simply say he wasn't ready to use the Book of Soyga.

The servant who brought him the book was loyal to him and his deceased wife, not to the elders who controlled the family from the shadows.

Elliot had mentioned the book to Edward in the past, so Edward might have his suspicions. But now he must believe that Luke and Wednesday have it. He likely thinks they handed it over to the Addams family for safekeeping or to give it to the Department of Demon Extermination.

Suddenly, a figure silently appeared behind Elliot, as if emerging from the very shadows. It was a middle-aged woman with black hair streaked with gray, dressed in an immaculate black uniform. Her skin was pale. Without looking up, she knelt, placing her right fist firmly on the floor and lowering her head until it almost touched the tiles.

"Report," Elliot said, unsurprised by the woman's sudden appearance.

"As we anticipated, the middle son of Sthenon Petropolus will hold his 16th birthday party next Friday. However, on Saturday, he will celebrate again with all his classmates and friends," the servant replied respectfully, her voice soft and measured.

"Will Luke Poe attend?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, sir. Currently, Luke Poe is traveling in a 2021 Audi e-Tron GT with the license plate: E57- KJ4. Based on his route, his destination is Nevada. He's traveling with his housekeeper, his girlfriend, and Fester Addams. They have over 3,500 kilometers to cover, so they'll arrive by Saturday afternoon," the servant replied.

"Good. He's finally leaving the Addams mansion," Elliot murmured to himself.

"Shall we intercept them?"

"No... With Fester Addams there, it would turn into a drawn-out battle. We'll use the special lesser demon to attack on Saturday," Elliot responded, standing up as he calculated his next moves. Time was running out.

"The special demon that leads other lesser demons?" the servant asked, and Elliot nodded. "Sir, I know lesser demons aren't weaklings, especially not in groups, but considering Luke Poe's strength, I don't think..." the servant began, but stopped mid-sentence.

"I know. The target isn't Luke Poe. It's his companions and friends. Does he think he can attend a party as if nothing happened?" Elliot said coldly.

This time, his target wasn't Luke-his target was his surroundings. The aim was to show Luke that he wasn't safe and to burden him with guilt when his companions were injured or killed.

Elliot wasn't worried about anyone discovering that the attack had been orchestrated by the Spellmans. He was using demons, an unconventional means, and they couldn't be traced back to him. Their memories couldn't be extracted.

This time, it would be impossible for Luke to gather evidence proving that the Spellmans had orchestrated the attack.

...

A luxurious Audi sped down a highway at over 100 km per hour. The person behind the wheel was Luke. In the passenger seat sat Wednesday, reading a book, completely unfazed by the car's high speed.

In the back seats were Fester and Natasha.

The bald man occasionally glanced at Natasha, who sat with her eyes closed.

"Hey, Galadriel. Slow down," Wednesday said without lifting her gaze from her book, her expression blank.

Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Being called Galadriel by Wednesday was nothing new. She had started using the nickname after Pugsley told her about Luke's supposed sister, Galadriel.

After his first encounter with the elven goddess, Pugsley had asked about her every day. Luke had to resort to using the potion again to keep up the act and fool him. Thankfully, they had left the mansion, so there was no need to waste more potions.

"Are you afraid of speed? I didn't expect that from you," Luke replied, his tone laced with

mockery.

"That's not it. You're going 125 km per hour. You'll get us pulled over for speeding, and we'll waste time. My time is valuable, Galadriel. I can't say the same for yours," Wednesday replied as she turned the page of her book.

"Fine, your wish is my command," Luke muttered through gritted teeth, easing up on the

accelerator.

As for crashing, that was impossible, given his reflexes, clairvoyance, telekinesis, and more. He had plenty of ways to avoid an accident.

Thirty minutes later...

"Galadriel, stop at the next gas station. I want to buy a coffee," said Wednesday. Her tone was monotonous, without a hint of mockery or sarcasm. But Luke knew she was mocking him,

deep down.

"Stop calling me Galadriel," said Luke. Since the trip began, he'd been called Galadriel more

than five times.

"Why? You chose that name yourself. It's a shame your fake ID says Tuesday instead," Wednesday said, finally putting her book down. Luke had taken the bait, unable to tolerate

being called Galadriel any longer.

"Does it bother you so much that your brother fell in love with my female form? It wasn't my idea. It's his fault-he sees a beautiful girl and instantly falls head over heels," said Luke. "I'm not bothered that my idiotic brother fell in love with the great Galadriel," Wednesday replied, her tone exaggerated and dripping with sarcasm as she said great.

"I'm just curious how it will affect him psychologically when he finds out Galadriel doesn't exist and that it's actually you," she added, staring into the distance as if envisioning the

future.

"We'll tell him Galadriel died horribly in battle against the Spellmans. That'll be my revenge for him trying to kill me with a sniper rifle," Luke said with a vengeful smile.

The perfect revenge: a broken heart and deep sorrow. Since he couldn't break Pugsley's legs, he had to find another way to exact his vengeance.

"Mm... That would affect him too, maybe even worse. Doesn't matter to me," said Wednesday

with a shrug.

'Sometimes I question if she even cares about her brother...' thought Luke, his expression

puzzled.

"If it doesn't bother you about your brother, then stop calling me Galadriel," said Luke.

"I don't want to," Wednesday replied in a flat tone.

'What's wrong with her?' Luke thought, bewildered.

Ever since he transformed into his female version, Wednesday had been acting strange.

'Could she be attracted to my female self?' Luke pondered for a moment, incredulous. He shook his head almost immediately.

'No. Impossible.' He recalled how Wednesday looked at his female form-with rejection and

disdain.

[She's irritated] said a familiar voice in his mind. It was Natasha, who had chosen to communicate telepathically to avoid interfering directly with the scene.

[What?] Luke replied, slightly startled by the sudden message.

[Irritated by what?] he added.

[By you. Your female version is... too perfect] Natasha responded.

[Is that bad?] Luke asked, confused.

[Luke, even I felt a hit to my ego seeing you like that. Honestly, I've never felt less impressive

in comparison to someone. And Wednesday... from the little I've seen of her, her ego and narcissism are incredibly high. I'd even say higher than yours. Seeing your female version so flawless in appearance must have made her feel insecure and jealous, probably] Natasha

explained.

'Jealous of my female version? How could...? Does she think I'd fall in love with myself or something?' Luke thought.

He had looked at himself in the mirror countless times in his female form, but he hadn't

fallen in love with himself. His ego wasn't that inflated-or, rather, it wasn't stupid enough

for that.

[Hey] Luke said, sending a telepathic message to Wednesday, who was slightly surprised by his sudden use of telepathy, though her face showed no reaction.

[What?] Wednesday asked.

[I remember you telling me that my female form is a cruel joke for being so perfect-that it

was offensively conventional] Luke said.

[So what?] she replied.

[Then, if my female form is a cruel joke, does that mean you are too? Because to me, you're

just as perfect as she is... No, you're more perfect] Luke responded sincerely, recalling the moment he saw Wednesday sleeping upright in the infirmary with such elegance and poise.

To him, that was perfection.

Wednesday looked at him in silence, processing what he had just said. Luke's comment had caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond.

She felt a faint blush rise to her cheeks, though Luke didn't notice since he was focused on the

road. He was deliberately avoiding eye contact with her after making such an embarrassing

remark.

[Fine, you're right... I am more perfect. Not that it really matters to me... but, thanks] Wednesday said.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

[I don't say things just to be polite. You know I only speak what I truly think] Luke replied

calmly, but inwardly satisfied with her response. It wasn't every day that he got Wednesday to

say thank you.

The journey continued, with Wednesday no longer calling Luke Galadriel.

Luke thanked Natasha. If it hadn't been for her, he never would have realized that Wednesday

had been irritated and jealous of his female version.

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