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Wednesday: The Strongest Psychic

Luke a 13-year-old boy lover of all kinds of novels, series, and manga, dies and is reincarnated in Wednesday's world with above-average psychic powers. As he immerses himself in the world of outcasts and monsters, he will discover that it is not as simple as it seems. Luke in his new life is a descendant of the famous writer Edgar Allan Poe and must deal with an old family grudge.

Nathe07 · TV
Classificações insuficientes
152 Chs

Unusual comfort

Luke noticed that Wednesday had a cut on her shoulder, and blood was coming out of it. The cut wasn't deep, but it was strange to see that someone could hurt her.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked, hurrying to her side and kneeling down, looking at her wound with some concern.

"It's just a small cut. It's nothing," Wednesday said dryly, trying to push Luke's hand away, but in the end, she didn't. She liked that Luke showed concern for her, which didn't happen often, but she wouldn't show it openly.

"It's not deep, but it's long. You'll need a new uniform," Luke commented, looking closely at the wound.

Wednesday's black jacket had torn, along with the shirt underneath, exposing the skin of her delicate shoulder. It was the first time Luke had seen Wednesday's pale shoulder.

'What am I thinking?' Luke thought, shaking his head.

"It's just a little blood. I'll be fine," Wednesday said, pushing Luke aside and standing up, already recovered.

They had both killed outcast adults who specialized in hunting missions, and only Wednesday ended up with a minor cut. Few students were capable of such a feat.

"If you say so," Luke said, shrugging. He knew how independent Wednesday was. It would be pointless to show more concern.

Quickly, both of them headed toward Natasha, who was lying on a large stone with her eyes half-closed. Her condition wasn't good.

"Natasha! Are you okay?" Luke asked, hurrying to her side. Her breathing was weak, and she had several cuts. One on her cheek, another on her stomach that was deep and bleeding, and several more on her legs.

Natasha's red hair was dirty and disheveled, as if she had been on the run for days.

For the first time, Wednesday saw Luke's housekeeper. A beautiful red-haired woman who must have been around thirty or a bit older.

"Luke… you came," Natasha said slowly, opening her eyes tiredly and looking toward Luke. She was happy to see him after so long.

"What about the pursuers?" Natasha asked with difficulty. Her vision was blurry. She had been pursued for days.

"They're all dead. We need to get back to Nevermore quickly," Luke said, turning around so Natasha could climb onto his back.

With effort, she climbed onto Luke's back, intertwining her hands around his neck. Luke stood up and looked at the sky. They had to reach Nevermore as soon as possible so Natasha could be treated by the nurse or Professor Fitts.

"I heard everything you did… Your mother would be proud of you. I'm proud of you, Luke. Maybe I wasn't the best nanny during your childhood, but I've always been proud of you," Natasha said slowly, with her eyes closed, resting her head on the back of Luke's neck.

Luke's expression changed upon hearing those words. He felt a warm sensation in his chest. It was rare for him to feel this in either of his two lives.

"Thanks… but don't talk anymore, or you'll lose strength," Luke said with an odd expression. He wasn't used to such direct displays of affection from Natasha.

"I just had to tell you, in case…"

Before she could continue, Luke interrupted her, "Hey, don't raise a death flag. You're not going to die. Just rest. We'll be at Nevermore in 20 minutes or less," Luke said.

Natasha smiled faintly and rested her head on Luke's neck.

"Am I supposed to wait here?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow, looking at Natasha on Luke's back. That was her spot.

"Yes. I'll come back for you later; you can walk to Nevermore, while you wait for me.," Luke said. He was about to take off but stopped. He noticed the dissatisfaction on Wednesday's face.

Although her expression remained almost the same, after spending so much time with her, Luke could tell she wasn't happy.

"Would you prefer if I carried you like a princess?" Luke asked with a barely perceptible smile. It wasn't the best moment to tease her.

"It's better than getting my shoes dirty walking through this forest," Wednesday said in her usual flat tone, taking a step toward Luke to be carried.

'I didn't expect her to agree,' Luke thought as he efficiently lifted her. He held her in the typical princess carry, though the scene was far from sweet or romantic.

Wednesday's eyes remained fixed on the horizon, devoid of any trace of discomfort. Her hands, instead of holding onto Luke, rested on her own lap.

Luke took off without saying another word, gradually picking up speed. Besides flying, he used his telekinesis to ensure Natasha wouldn't fall, as she had fallen asleep.

Wednesday remained unfazed. Luke's hands were constantly touching her, unlike when she was on his back, but she didn't mind.

To Luke's surprise, he managed to reach Nevermore in 18 minutes. He hadn't realized that situations where people you care about are in danger could give you a power-up.

A few minutes before arriving at Nevermore, Luke sent a telepathic message to Larissa. When they arrived, the nurse and Professor Fitts were already waiting and immediately began treating Natasha without wasting any time.

"Will she be okay?" Luke asked, looking at the elderly nurse.

"Yes. She just needs to rest for a few hours. She hasn't slept for days. She has multiple external and internal injuries, even poison, and she hasn't eaten in days," the nurse explained briefly, while ushering everyone out of the room so Natasha could rest peacefully.

"When she wakes up, I'll let you know immediately," the nurse said, noticing Luke's reluctance to leave the room.

After that, Luke and Wednesday started walking toward the dorms, both in silence.

"You seem very worried about her," Wednesday commented, breaking the silence. She knew Luke wasn't emotionless, but it was rare to see him so clearly concerned about someone.

"The Poe family is nearly extinct. It's just her and me against the Spellmans, who make demonic deals. Thanks to Natasha, I didn't die as a baby, and I consider her an older sister. Do you understand why I'm worried about her?" Luke said, raising his voice, irritated by Wednesday's constant questioning about his concern for Natasha, as if she were expendable.

"Mm, I understand. It makes sense. She's more than just a housekeeper," Wednesday nodded, unfazed by Luke's tone.

"But…" Wednesday added, stopping in her tracks, causing Luke to stop as well and look at her with a slightly furrowed brow.

"It's not just you and her. I'm here too. I'll help you cut off the Spellmans' heads. Don't leave me out," Wednesday said, extending her hand and taking Luke's. His furrowed brow softened, replaced by a surprised look, similar to when Natasha told him she was proud of him.

What was happening today? The two coldest and most reserved women he knew had both comforted him. It was a strange yet comforting feeling.

"Thanks... Sorry for raising my voice," Luke said, scratching his cheek with one hand while holding Wednesday's cold, pale hand with the other.

"It was my fault for asking the same question multiple times," Wednesday replied, not giving it much importance.

'Did she just say it was her fault?' Luke thought, still surprised by Wednesday's attitude.

"Let's go to the cafeteria. I'm hungry after killing those people from the Kairia clan," Wednesday said, letting go of Luke's hand and changing their destination.

Luke followed her. He was hungry too after the battle and flying at high speed for nearly an hour.

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