"Faster! Row! Row with everything you've got!" Bianca practically screamed orders at her team, her voice shrill and piercing with agitation. "They're out of ammo! Rush Raven Island! We still have a chance!"
Like receiving a final shot of adrenaline, the crew of the Gold Bug unleashed their survival instincts. Their wooden paddles moved so fast they were a blur.
The boat surged toward Raven Island—a gloomy, rock-strewn island in the center of the lake—at unprecedented speed.
As long as they set foot on the island first, hiked to the center, grabbed the flag representing victory, and rowed back... victory would still belong to Bianca Barclay!
The other boats had the same idea.
"Wednesday," Victor tilted his head, watching the little yellow boat sprinting ahead as if injected with chicken blood. His tone held a trace of confusion and regret. "Why did you stop us from throwing? Venom seems to have a few special ones left in his belly."
Venom squirmed cooperatively and grunted, confirming that the inventory indeed had a surplus.
Wednesday stood at the stern, her black dress and hair fluttering in the lake breeze. She watched Bianca's back as she fled with the last of her strength, and the corner of her mouth curled up extremely slowly into a cold, delighted arc.
The meaning contained in that arc sent a fresh chill down Victor's spine, even though he was familiar with her style.
"If we blow them up now," Wednesday's voice was calm but carried the mockery of a cat playing with a mouse, "what will we blow up when they come back from the island, flag in hand and filled with hope?"
Brief silence.
Then—
"Heh heh heh..."
"Hahaha!"
Victor and Venom exchanged a look and simultaneously burst into a knowing, rotten-to-the-core laughter. That laughter sounded exceptionally eerie over the suddenly quiet lake.
Victor slapped his thigh hard, his bell jingling. "Brilliant! Truly brilliant! Captain! That is so evil! I love it!"
Venom licked his teeth excitedly. "Let hope inflate first... then POP! The taste is even more delicious than eating the chocolate directly!"
Enid hugged her paddle, looked at her three teammates whose faces were brimming with identical dark, excited smiles, and silently shuddered.
She suddenly felt that she often didn't fit in because she wasn't perverted enough.
The Black Cat no longer pressed close. Instead, like a predator that had lost interest, it leisurely maintained an unsettling distance as it also headed toward Raven Island.
Like guards escorting prisoners to the execution ground, they waited silently and expectantly for the prey to personally deliver the sweetest moment of despair.
This brief tranquility was more suffocating than the continuous explosions before.
---
The Black Cat followed the few surviving canoes to shore. The bottom of the boat scraped against rough gravel, making a harsh sound.
The contestants who had landed first were supporting each other, paralyzed on the shore, gasping for breath, still in shock.
As soon as they saw the Black Cat approaching—especially the three figures plus one black blob on board—they reacted like rabbits seeing a big bad wolf. They bounced up instantly, scrambling to hide far away, huddled together with eyes full of primal fear.
Wednesday and Victor jumped off the boat almost simultaneously.
"I will get the flag," Wednesday said concisely, her gaze already locked on the path leading to the island's center.
"I'll go add some fun and difficulty to the other contestants' 'cross-country hike'." Victor and Venom flashed a simultaneous, knowing smirk, their eyes shining with eagerness.
"Alright," Enid sighed helplessly, hugging her paddle. "Then I can only wait on the boat for you guys. And guard our ship, just in case someone blind enough tries to sabotage it."
"Oh! Right!" Victor seemed to suddenly remember something. He spun around, plunging his hand directly into Venom's viscous body to rummage around.
Venom squirmed cooperatively, making bubbling noises.
The next second, Victor actually pulled out a Desert Eagle! It was glittering gold, exaggerated in style, and full of violent aesthetics!
"This is for self-defense. One of my favorites!" Victor enthusiastically shoved the heavy pistol into Enid's hands, his tone as light as if gifting a cute plush toy.
"In case some idiot dares to bully you or tries to wreck our boat, just take this and go pew pew pew at them! Simple and easy to use!"
Enid stared at the cold, heavy metal object in her hands capable of easily taking lives, and stammered, "T-This isn't good, is it? It's a bit too..."
"Oh!" Victor slapped his forehead in realization. "My bad! This 'Gold Luxury Edition' is indeed too tacky. probably doesn't fit your cute and cool aesthetic!"
Saying so, he snatched back the Gold Desert Eagle with lightning speed, shoved it back into Venom, and immediately pulled out another one—
A Pink Desert Eagle, with the grip completely covered in sparkly rhinestones!
"This one is for you!" Victor triumphantly shoved the pink pistol into the petrified Enid's hands again.
"I loved this one the most when I was a kid! I used to sleep hugging it; it felt so safe! It's a perfect match for you! Both sweet and cool!"
He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret tip. "Oh, by the way, I already took the safety off for you. Just point and shoot, don't be shy!"
Enid felt her brain crashing. She could only stiffly hold the heavy, schizophrenically styled pink weapon, subconsciously mumbling, "T-Thank you..."
Nearby, the contestants left guarding the other boats witnessed this horrifying "weapon gifting" session from start to finish. They stared at Victor with the terrified gaze one would give an international arms dealer.
Is this guy... really a fucking student?! What kind of good person carries this kind of stuff around, sorted by color and style?!
Wednesday seemed long accustomed to this, or simply couldn't be bothered to care.
She just glanced at Victor indifferently. "Let's go."
"Coming, coming!" Victor grinned and followed, Venom retracting into his body.
One following the other, they quickly headed deep into the island.
Their speed was extremely fast, and their figures soon disappeared behind the dense, twisted trees.
The shore was silent, save for the sound of lake water lapping against the bank.
Vaguely, their intermittent conversation drifted from the island on the wind.
It was Wednesday's cool voice: "Can you get me a Benelli M4?"
Followed by Victor's laughing, unhesitating reply: "Oh~ Good taste, Captain! When this race is over and I have time, I'll go browse the warehouse at the US military base and pick a new one for you!"
"Damn, those two are a perfect match."
On The Cask of Amontillado, one of the contestants left behind, still wearing a look of terror, couldn't help muttering to his companion in a complicated tone.
Enid, with her keen werewolf hearing, clearly caught this sentence.
For some reason, hearing someone say Victor and Wednesday were a "perfect match" caused an inexplicable unhappiness to well up in her heart—a sour, stifling feeling.
She pursed her lips. Suddenly, hugging the pink Desert Eagle, she stepped off the Black Cat and walked straight toward The Cask of Amontillado.
The two contestants guarding it immediately tensed up, shouting with false bravado, "Hey! W-What do you want?"
Enid didn't speak. She just raised the blindingly pink pistol Victor gave her.
The two fell silent instantly, raising their hands high in unison, faces pale.
Enid didn't look at them. Instead, she walked to their canoe and extended her other hand—sharp wolf claws popped out instantly.
Then, as if venting, she slashed shrrk-shrrk at the bottom of their boat, leaving several deep, long, terrifying scratches that nearly penetrated the wood!
After doing all this, she gave a light hmph. Without looking at the two contestants who were about to cry, she hugged the gun and turned back to the Black Cat, like a little dragon... or little wolf... guarding her treasure.
Only when she walked far away did the two contestants on The Cask of Amontillado dare to slowly lower their hands, looking at the shocking scars on the bottom of their boat, wanting to cry but having no tears.
"Whoa," one murmured. "That werewolf chick... is really fucking intense. I'm starting to pray our broken boat can make it back..."
"It's all your fault!" the other complained with a sob. "Why did you have to run your mouth about 'perfect match'!"
"What the fuck did I say?!" the first guy felt incredibly wronged. "I just made a comment!"