Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1032

He returned from the study to the first floor, settled in at the counter, and quietly began to read. Chocolate, meanwhile, lay sprawled nearby, peeking at him through half-lidded eyes. Jenkins had always considered his cat illiterate, but in truth, Chocolate understood far more words than he did.

The cat simply didn't comprehend the knowledge Jenkins carried from his former world, but then again, a cat had no real need for such things.

He began reading at half-past eight, and by nine o’clock, the shop door creaked open yet again. At this point, Jenkins was utterly convinced: the antique shop was far livelier at night than during the day. In the six months he'd worked there, not once had a daytime shift been this eventful.

The newcomer was a man he didn't recognize, bundled up in a heavy black coat. The hat he wore was pulled so low it completely obscured the upper half of his face.

"Papa Oliver is out on an errand. I'm his apprentice."

"Oh, right. The shipment is arriving tonight."

The stranger muttered to himself, then turned and left without giving Jenkins a chance to say another word.

The young apprentice shook his head and returned to his book.

None of them wanted to do business with Jenkins. Upon hearing that Papa Oliver was out, they all departed without another word. The client Jenkins was actually waiting for, however, didn't show up until twenty past eleven. She was just as Papa Oliver had described: a middle-aged woman with an artificial smile, dressed in a black silk gown of exceptionally poor taste.

She was a level-three Enchanter, slightly heavyset, but carried herself like a lady of high society. Jenkins's eyes could tell her features were a disguise, but the deposit receipt she presented, signed by Papa Oliver, was undoubtedly real.

He examined the receipt under the lamplight before setting it on the counter. After telling his cat to watch the shop, he headed up the stairs to the second floor to retrieve the item.

The woman glanced curiously at the cat on the counter. Curled up beside Jenkins's book, the cat let out a wide yawn, entirely uninterested in the stranger.

Jenkins returned shortly, carrying a small case. He opened it in front of the woman, revealing an interior padded with cheap foam that gave off an unpleasant odor. Nestled within the foam was a short dagger in its sheath, its pommel set with a massive ruby.

"Please, inspect it."

The apprentice slid the case across the counter toward her.

The woman nodded. She took the high-powered gas lamp Jenkins offered, pulled on a pair of white gloves that had been set aside, and carefully lifted the dagger from its case.

"Papa Oliver always manages to find such rare antiques. This one is truly remarkable."

The woman believed Papa Oliver was merely an antique dealer, unaware of his connection to the Church. According to Papa Oliver's suspicions, she was acquiring the two-hundred-year-old, heavily corroded blade to perform a rare ritual: the "Blade Spirit Enchantment."

It was a ritual that fused a soul with a weapon, imbuing an ordinary object with supernatural power for more than a decade. Naturally, any ritual involving the desecration of a soul was highly illegal.

Papa Oliver had already reported the woman's identity to the Church. She would take the dagger tonight, and by morning, she would be arrested.

"Excellent. I see no issues. Here is the final payment. Please count it."

She produced a thick roll of banknotes—all one-pound notes, the serial numbers non-consecutive. The bills were crisp and new, making them easy to count.

Once the transaction was complete, the woman departed. Jenkins straightened up the counter and, seeing that Papa Oliver still hadn't returned, followed his instructions. He turned off all the lights, ushered his cat outside, and locked the front door.

It was nearly midnight, and the entire city had fallen silent. As Jenkins began the walk home, his only thought was of getting some rest. Tomorrow, after all, was the spring outing, and he needed to be up early to pack.

But this was destined to be a restless night. Jenkins was not even halfway home when a deep rumble echoed from the west, followed by a tremendous explosion that jolted half the city's sleepers awake.

Jenkins and his cat stood frozen, staring at the pillar of fire rising from the direction of the docks. The glow illuminated the young man's handsome features and danced in the eyes of his cat—eyes that clearly relished a good spectacle.

"This time... this really has nothing to do with me."

He murmured to himself, head tilted to the sky, then suddenly broke into a grin. He gave his cat a pat, a silent reminder to change the color of its fur, before scrambling up the side of a nearby building. With a sharp whistle, he summoned his unicorn and soared toward the fire-lit coast.

(Chocolate sprinted along...)

Even the morning sun struggled to pierce the gloom over Nolan City. A thick blanket of spring mist, mingled with smog, shrouded the metropolis, leaving the eight o'clock light dim and faded.

But it was, at least, a perfect day for an outing. The sky was clear, the temperature pleasant. Inside the carriage, which cut through the lingering mist and faint morning light, the young writer was still half-asleep, clutching his cat even as a stray stone sent a jolt through the cabin. Beside him, a blonde and a red-haired girl were deep in conversation about the explosion at the docks last night.

"It must have been nearly dawn by then. Honestly, it scared me half to death."

Briny stole a glance at Jenkins as she spoke, but he was hovering on the edge of sleep, his senses dulled. He could feel the jostle of the carriage, but sound, sight, and smell were all a distant blur.

The blonde girl's expression grew puzzled. Hathaway, sitting next to her, noticed and asked softly,

"Jenkins, didn't you sleep well last night? If you need some rest, it's alright if you don't come today." Check latest chapters at novel[f]ire.net

"Hm? Oh, no, not at all. I just couldn't sleep last night. You know how close the explosion was to St. George Avenue. The blast shattered the second-floor guest room window at my neighbor Mr. Goodman's house. I could hear them complaining about it this morning."

He looked up and offered the young women a smile. Though Jenkins himself was unaware, his handsome features, combined with his burgeoning supernatural essence, had endowed him with a passive talent akin to a "Charm Person" effect.

At the sight of his smile, both Hathaway and Briny instantly blushed. To hide it from each other, they both turned their faces toward the window in perfect, unspoken sync.

Last night's explosion had been related to Papa Oliver. The smuggled shipment had attracted a few Enchanters from out of town. These newcomers had just arrived in Nolan, completely oblivious to what a dangerous city it could be. Their ignorance had set the stage for what happened last night. But having learned the full story, Jenkins was absolutely certain of one thing: he had nothing to do with it.