Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1026

"Oh, madam, this is truly the best price I can offer. If you're still not satisfied, you could try coming back tomorrow during the day. Papa Oliver will be in the shop, and he might give you a better price... though it could just as easily be lower. Good Sage, I don't mean to speak ill of the old man, but he's a much better haggler than I am."

Seeing the woman's continued hesitation, Jenkins felt he had no other choice. To be honest, he wasn't particularly concerned whether the deal went through. He was far more curious about where Silver Flute Miss had just disappeared to.

Jenkins's words gave the departing woman pause. She lingered at the counter, repeatedly trying to negotiate a higher price, but Jenkins, feeling no pressure to make a sale, held firm at twenty-three pounds and seven shillings.

Ultimately, the woman departed with her jewelry, a look of disappointment on her face. It seemed she intended to try her luck at another antique shop.

After the woman left, Jenkins didn't immediately return to his novel. Once he was certain she wasn't coming back, he picked up the gloves he had worn while handling the jewelry and brought them to his nose, taking a gentle sniff.

It was a rather peculiar gesture, but he was merely trying to confirm a suspicion. Even though the jewelry had been cleaned, Jenkins could still detect a faint scent of earth.

To be more precise, it was the scent of grave goods. Papa Oliver had told him about it before: items sealed in a tomb absorb the unique odor produced by the decay of wooden coffins and other offerings. It was a smell unlike any other, nearly impossible to eliminate unless treated with professional chemical agents or masked by a much stronger fragrance.

"So, Silver Flute Miss went tomb raiding outside the city today?"

He mused to himself. But aside from the discovery of those dragon ruins a while back, he hadn't heard of any new ancient sites being found near Nolan lately.

Shaking his head, he cleared the counter and returned to his book. The cat, meanwhile, padded over to the gloves, gave them a sniff, and then narrowed its eyes, its thoughts unreadable.

The shop was unusually busy tonight. Not long after the last customer had left, another elderly gentleman pushed open the door. He wore a very old-fashioned overcoat, though it was clear from the quality that it hadn't been cheap. The old man seemed to be in excellent spirits. He was quite tall, nearly matching Jenkins's height, with a build that was slightly portly but by no means unhealthy.

The man had a round, ruddy face, with prominent age spots and wrinkles. His eyes, however, were bright and full of life, with only a few fine lines at the corners. His hair was a salt-and-pepper mix of black and white. A quick guess based on his face alone would put him over fifty, which was a respectable age in these times.

Jenkins recognized him as an Enchanter at a single glance. The familiar pattern of glowing specks confirmed it: this was the stranger from the Corpse Gentleman's gathering the previous night, the one who had been selling withered leaves. He had appeared at the gatherings occasionally in the past, so he wasn't a newcomer.

This was the first time Jenkins had ever run into a participant from the Corpse Gentleman's circle in his ordinary life. But this was hardly the time to ponder the man's secret activities. Jenkins was more curious about the reason for the elderly gentleman's visit.

"Are you the owner here?"

The visitor spoke slowly, his voice carrying a certain melodic cadence. Jenkins had only ever heard a similar manner of speech from nobles who were putting on airs.

"No, this is Papa Oliver's shop. I'm merely his apprentice," Jenkins replied. "He's stepped out on an errand, but I'm authorized to handle some business in his absence."

He replied politely. The customer nodded, then leaned on his cane as he approached the counter and placed a gold ring upon it.

"Very well," the man said. "Appraise it, please."

Jenkins froze. The ring... its style was identical to one of the pieces Silver Flute Miss had shown him earlier. Or rather, apart from some minute details in the engraving, it was exactly the same. Check latest chapters at novel⁂fire.net

"Did they raid the same tomb?"

That was the logical conclusion, but when Jenkins sniffed the ring, he detected none of the tell-tale scent of the tomb.

He nodded, took out his tools to inspect it, and confirmed his suspicions. This ring was undoubtedly connected to the three gold rings he'd seen earlier.

This visitor's ring, however, was in much better condition, as if it had been regularly polished.

"It's certainly a fine antique," Jenkins said. "I can offer you two pounds for it. As you can see here, it's not pure gold."

Jenkins held the ring under his magnifying glass, pointing out the imperfection to the old man. He had intended to haggle the price down, but the gentleman didn't seem to care in the slightest whether it was pure gold.

"Two pounds is fine."

As he spoke, the old man extended a hand toward Jenkins. Jenkins shot him a curious glance; it was rare to find a customer so agreeable. Still, a deal was a deal. The ring's actual value was easily over ten pounds.

The old man left as quickly as he had arrived, giving Jenkins no opportunity to inquire about the ring's origins. Jenkins removed his white gloves and ran a fingertip over the ring's surface, but he still couldn't draw any connection between the elderly gentleman and his neighbor, Mrs. Forant.

Jenkins pondered the matter for a moment after the old man left. Deciding it had nothing to do with him, he picked up his novel and went back to reading.

The story he was reading was a thriller about a crime in a late-night antique shop. A young apprentice, not yet fully trained, was left to mind the store alone one evening while his master was away. After dealing with a few customers and feeling quite pleased with himself for the sales he'd made, he remained blissfully unaware that a robber had slipped into the shop through the back courtyard.

While the apprentice was away in the washroom, the robber crept from the back of the shop to the front and hid beneath the counter. When the young man returned, the intruder dragged him behind the counter and brutally assaulted him. The robber then took the apprentice's place, greeting the late-night customers and murdering them one by one, before finally making off with a hoard of valuables just before the shop's owner returned.

It was a rare story that ended with the criminal getting away, and there were no police officers or detectives to be found in its pages. This meant the tale was told almost like a true-crime report, simply chronicling the events of that terrible night.

All in all, it was a rather grim and unsatisfying tale.

Jenkins mumbled to himself and gave the counter a light kick with his foot. It was then he remembered that the counter in Pops Antique Shop was solid wood, built to conceal the spacious secret room hidden beneath it.

"Could it really be that much of a coincidence?"

Full of doubt, he closed the book. He activated his Eye of Reality and turned to look toward the back courtyard. Everything there was normal; only the materials Papa Oliver had stockpiled gave off a faint, spiritual glow.

Seeing Jenkins glancing around, the cat, who had been dozing, stood up and peered about as well. Jenkins smiled and stroked Chocolate's head. The cat, as if encouraged by the attention, let out another, much more robust meow.