My Life in Wednesday With a Vampire System Chapter 10 - 10 : Jerk

Enid leaned toward Wednesday, her voice a frantic whisper as she watched Ethan and Bianca face off on the piste.

"Wednesday… should we go get Principal Weems? This is getting out of hand. Like—really out of hand."

Wednesday didn't even glance at her. Her eyes stayed fixed on Ethan, studying him like a scientist observing an unstable specin.

"No," she said. "Actions have consequences. He chose his."

A small, almost imperceptible curl of satisfaction touched the corner of her mouth.

"And I'd like to observe the fallout."

Enid blinked at her. "Fallout? Wednesdaaaay, he could get seriously hurt!"

"Excellent. Pain builds character. Or eliminates the weak. Either outco is acceptable."

Enid pressed both palms to her cheeks. "Do you have even a shred of kindness in your soul? A crumb? A microscopic speck?"

"Kindness is a weakness," Wednesday said, eyes still forward.

Her tone was flat, absolute, as if stating a universal scientific law.

"And I don't indulge in weaknesses."

Enid muttered under her breath, "Remind never to ask you for emotional support ever again…"

"I would never offer it," Wednesday assured her.

***

On Ethan's side,

Bianca stepped onto the piste with practiced ease, rolling her shoulders, confidence radiating off her like perfu.

Ethan, anwhile, stood on the opposite end with his hands in his pockets, not even bothering with a stance. No gear. No mask. No weapon.

Just him.

Bianca narrowed her eyes.

She didn't understand where this guy's confidence cos from.

But whatever—she liked defeating people who thought they were above others. She lived for that sharp sting of humiliation in her opponent's eyes. And this boy was practically begging for it.

The other students whispered behind their helts.

"He's dead."

"Bianca's gonna humiliate him."

"He doesn't even have a sword—what is he doing?"

Ethan didn't react.

He just stuck a finger in his ear, casually picking at it like every word being thrown around was pure garbage to him.

The instructor raised his hand.

"Begin!"

Bianca lunged—fast, precise, textbook perfect.

But to her shock, Ethan wasn't there.

The air where he stood rippled faintly.

Then emptied.

A collective gasp shot across the training hall.

Before Bianca could even register what happened, she felt sothing—

A cold, sharp prickle against the side of her neck.

Her weapon was gone.

Her hand was empty.

And Ethan was behind her, casually holding her own rapier like he'd plucked it from her grip mid-movent.

"See? Too weak."

He tapped the blade lightly against her neck.

"She lost in one second."

The hall erupted—shocked murmurs, protests, disbelief. The instructor's face drained of color, then flushed crimson with anger he couldn't voice.

Ethan stepped back, returning the rapier to her by placing it in her stunned hand.

"You said she was your best," he said flatly. "Maybe raise the standards."

The instructor was too stunned to speak.

He hadn't even seen Ethan move—not a step, not a shift, nothing. One mont Ethan was standing still, the next second Bianca lost . It didn't make sense.

What kind of Outcast was this guy?

***

"Wow, he is too cool! Did you see how he defeated Bianca?" said Enid, practically buzzing with excitent. Tiny pastel flowers burst from her hair like soone had shaken a glitter bomb.

Most students looked at her like she'd gone insane for cheering after Ethan publicly dismantled their top duelist.

Wednesday didn't even spare Enid a full glance.

"He didn't defeat her," Wednesday said, tone flat and surgical. "He dismantled her. Like peeling the wings off a fly."

Enid blinked. "That sounds… horrible."

"Yes," Wednesday replied. "That's why it's accurate."

She watched Ethan walk back toward them as Bianca still stood frozen on the piste, ntally rebooting.

"He ended it too quickly," Wednesday added, voice faintly disappointed. "Efficiency is admirable, but theatrics are an art. He denied the pleasure of watching Bianca struggle."

Enid stared at her. "Wednesday! You can't just say stuff like that!"

"I just did."

"See?" Ethan said calmly, lowering his foil with infuriating ease. "This is why I don't need training wheels."

He shot a glance at Enid.

She was visibly impressed—finally seeing soone knock Bianca off her pedestal for once. A tiny, satisfied grin tugged at her lips.

But the rest of the class…

They weren't nearly as chard.

A slow ripple of realization spread through the room as they watched Ethan bask in his own ego.

Oh.

So that's what he was.

A colossal, walking, self-satisfied jerk.

Even Bianca—still catching her breath—looked more offended than defeated.

But among all the shifting gazes in the room, one stood out.

One wasn't aid at Ethan at all.

It was aid unkindly at Wednesday.

Rowan.

He stood rigid near the equipnt rack, fingers twitching nervously at his side the way they did whenever sothing set him on edge. His eyes weren't following the aftermath of the duel—no, they were locked entirely on Wednesday.

And the look he gave her wasn't confusion or curiosity.

It was a warning.

A quiet, simring hostility.