Nathe07
patreon
WD - Chapter 174: Party IV
🕑 Added 2024-12-13 17:08:46 +0000 UTC‘A vampire,’ thought Luke with a lazy expression, eyeing the sharp fangs of the boy named Mark.
“Dare,” Luke replied without much thought.
“Oh, bold… Let’s see what it could be…” said Mark with a grin, resting a hand on his chin, thinking about a challenge that would be both fun and difficult for someone like Luke.
“I’ve got it! Repeat the dance you did at the Rave’N in front of everyone,” Mark said with a mocking smile forming on his face, while everyone in the circle cheered, some laughing and others whispering in anticipation.
“No,” Luke replied instantly, his expression hardly changing.
“Really? Are you going to back down, big writer?” Mark asked with a grin, his fangs showing once again as others began to laugh.
“Too embarrassed? Backing out of a simple dare?” added a werewolf sitting next to Mark, arms crossed, wearing a smirk.
Some exchanged knowing looks, and one even murmured something like “coward” just loud enough for Luke to hear.
A few psychic peers or dormmates of Luke frowned at Mark and the others mocking him. They wanted to defend Luke but knew it would backfire. After all, if he could kill Crackstone, he didn’t need anyone standing up for him.
Luke showed no reaction, just a slow raise of his eyebrow. He had to admit he was a little surprised they had the guts to try mocking him, given his reputation: killing Crackstone, Atlas—a gorgon over a hundred years old—and in the past, he had wiped the floor with several older students.
He supposed being in a group and at a party gave everyone more courage than usual. Even so, he had no intention of giving in to irrelevant provocations, despite his strong, sometimes vengeful, and slightly violent personality.
Luke slowly raised his hand, pointing toward a table in the center that held bottles of alcohol and glasses. For a brief moment, a flicker of alarm crossed Mark’s face and that of a few others. Their bodies tensed nervously, but they sighed in relief when a bottle and a small glass floated toward Luke.
He calmly unscrewed the cap, poured the shot glass until it was full, and drank it.
“Done,” said Luke, as he returned the bottle and glass to the small circular table in the center.
“Wow, how brave,” Mark commented sarcastically, though his smile tightened upon realizing his taunt had no effect on Luke.
‘The rumors said he was impulsive, unable to control himself, but that doesn’t seem to be the case…’ thought Mark, a bit confused.
“Really? That’s the best you’ve got to try and provoke him?” Wednesday asked, glancing up from inspecting her nails as if the conversation were a waste of her time.
“I thought outcasts would have more creativity than normies, but no. It seems even vampires suffer from mediocrity, Mark,” Wednesday added, locking eyes with him without blinking.
The previous laughter and murmurs ceased, and the atmosphere hung in tense silence. The psychics internally nodded at Wednesday’s remark. Someone had to put this stupid vampire in his place.
Mark frowned but said nothing. Some in the group looked away, uncomfortable. Wednesday’s expression and tone were more intimidating than Luke’s lazy demeanor, who seemed entirely unfazed by the taunts.
The game continued, and it was Wednesday’s turn. The question came from the same girl who had once dared Eugene to eat his own boogers.
“Truth or dare, Addams?” the girl asked, smiling.
“Truth,” Wednesday replied in a tone completely devoid of interest.
The girl’s smile widened, clearly pleased with the choice. “Perfect,” she said, leaning forward slightly as if sharing a secret. “Then tell us… what’s your sex life with Luke like?”
Some of the people present stifled nervous laughter, while others watched the scene with anticipation. The psychics who shared classes with Wednesday exchanged knowing glances, reveling inwardly. This stupid girl clearly didn’t know Wednesday Addams’ character.
Wednesday remained motionless, her expression completely unreadable.
“I won’t answer,” she said simply, using her control over the darkness to summon a bottle of rum and a glass to her.
Wednesday poured a small amount of rum into the glass and drank it with the same calmness with which she had responded.
When she finished, Wednesday broke the silence. “It must be incredibly sad to be you,” she said, looking at the girl with a mix of feigned pity and disdain. “So much so that you feel the need to obsess over the private lives of people you barely know. I wonder if it’s because your own is so… inactive.”
‘Here it comes!’ the psychics thought, struggling to suppress their smiles.
Some in the group let out muffled laughs as the girl stiffened, her face turning red. However, Wednesday wasn’t done.
“If you’re so obsessed with my sex life, maybe you should try having one of your own. Though, of course…” Her tone grew even sharper, her barely perceptible smile cruel.
“I doubt you have many options, considering that probably no one in their right mind would be interested in someone like you,” Wednesday added with a faint, disdainful smile, her eyes slowly sweeping over the girl’s face and figure as if she were evaluating a defective object.
The girl’s lips quivered, and tears began to gather in her eyes. In a desperate attempt to salvage some dignity, she stood abruptly. “You’re… a… a… damn…” she stammered, but her words broke into a sob.
Without another word, she ran out of the room, followed closely by a couple of friends who tried to console her.
Most of the participants remained silent, while the psychics smiled faintly, though none of them laughed out loud. No one close to or friendly with the girl had the courage to come to her defense. Attempting it would undoubtedly be social suicide.
Luke, relaxed in his seat, let out a soft chuckle that echoed through the room. Everyone turned their heads toward him. He didn’t seem to care; on the contrary, he smirked mockingly at everyone, especially at Mark and his group.
“What? Can’t a guy laugh now?” Luke asked, shrugging with feigned innocence.
“Let the game continue!” he added when no one dared respond.
'These two are ruining the game...' Ajax thought, glancing at his friend and his strange, terrifying girlfriend.
The game continued, and gradually, the awkward atmosphere began to dissipate. The dares and truths became lighter, with some participants daring to ask funny or challenging questions, though without the same deadly tension as before.
Finally, it was Mark’s turn. The attention shifted to him, and all eyes turned toward the tall, pale boy.
Before one of Mark’s friends could ask him truth or dare, Luke spoke up.
“Truth or dare?” Luke asked, speaking for the first time in several minutes.
Mark seemed to tense up slightly. He could ask a friend to pose the question, but that would make him look like a coward.
Mark thought for a moment. Finally, he decided it was safer to avoid any potentially uncomfortable questions. “Dare,” he answered, trying to sound confident.
Luke smiled inwardly; that was the answer he had been waiting for.
"I dare you to dodge a punch from me," said Luke, standing up.
The room erupted in surprised murmurs. Mark frowned. “Will you use your auras?” he asked.
“No. No auras,” Luke replied, and all eyes turned to Mark, awaiting his response.
“You’re a vampire, aren’t you? Your reflexes are supposed to be superior—faster, more precise. So prove it. It shouldn’t be a problem for someone with your abilities... or is it?” Luke added, his tone dripping with mockery.
“Fine, let’s do it,” Mark finally agreed, standing up.
Both walked to the center of the circle of couches and stopped a short distance apart, locking eyes. The room fell silent, the atmosphere charged with anticipation.
“On the count of three,” Ajax said, standing up and stepping closer to the two.
“One... two... three!”
Luke quickly clenched his right fist and launched it at Mark with impressive speed. Mark, seeing the velocity of the punch, smiled inwardly. The punch was fast, but his reflexes could handle dodging it. He readied himself to evade.
What Mark didn’t know was that Luke was using his precognition—a new ability he had gained in his battle against Dolores. In simple terms, his advanced Observation Haki allowed him to see a short period into the future through precise mental imagery.
His plan was simple: make Mark duck, then immediately land an impossible-to-dodge strike right to his face.
Luke smile to himself as he saw the mental image, and just as Mark made the expected move—ducking to the side to avoid the punch—Luke seized the moment. Without missing a beat, he raised his knee to torso height and drove it directly into Mark's face.
The impact was brutal. Luke's knee collided with Mark's nose with a sickening crack, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Mark let out a grunt of pain as his nose broke, and before he could react, blood began gushing out, spraying into the air.
The blow left him stumbling backward before he fell face-first to the ground. Mark lay there, dazed and disoriented.
Everyone turned to look at Luke, thinking that wasn’t part of the challenge. Luke had said Mark needed to dodge a single punch, yet he had thrown both a punch and a knee strike. Still, no one dared to complain.
“What happened to those vampire reflexes? You can’t even dodge a psychic’s strike without auras,” Luke said mockingly. No one could prove he’d used precognition, and considering future sight was an exceedingly rare ability, no one was likely to suspect he had mastered it.
Mark remained on the floor, struggling to catch his breath while trying to staunch the blood pouring from his face. One of his friends quickly rushed over, helping him to his feet.
“Let’s get to the bathroom, Mark,” the friend said, attempting to stay calm as he guided Mark out of the circle. Mark said nothing, clearly too stunned by the blow and humiliated by the situation.
Luke calmly returned to his spot on the couch next to Wednesday, showing no remorse for what had happened.
“I guess vampires aren’t as fast as I thought,” he said with a slight, disappointed click of his tongue.
“Pretty pathetic for a vampire. Maybe he’s a half-blood, and his genes are inferior,” Wednesday added disdainfully.
"I didn’t know you discriminated against half-blood," Luke said with a faint smile.
"I don’t discriminate. I just state facts. It’s simply biology. Genetics shows that hybrids often inherit a combination of genes that isn’t as optimal as those of a pureblood lineage. A very low percentage has the chance to get the best traits of both parents," Wednesday replied calmly.
"Is that what you think? That half-blood are genetically inferior?" asked a feminine voice, surprising everyone in the room. Someone daring to interrupt a conversation between Luke and Wednesday was practically unheard of.
Luke, Wednesday, and the others turned toward the voice. Many were startled when they saw who it was.
'Enid…' Luke thought, feeling a slight tension in his stomach.
Now, everyone understood why someone dared to challenge Wednesday.
Seeing Enid’s furrowed brow and irritated tone, Luke knew this wasn’t going to end well. Enid had always been sensitive about the topic of half-blood.
In the past, when they were a couple, she had asked Luke what he thought about half-blood.
Knowing that any children they might have would be half-blood—and that Luke needed to rebuild the Poe family—it was a topic that had deeply unsettled Enid during their time together.
After all, being a werewolf made her feel she might not be the most "suitable" partner for Luke’s future ambitions.
