Chapter 106: Chapter 106

"No problem. Three people inside—one man, two women. All of them are asleep."

Miss Hersha didn't question him. "Stand guard out here," she instructed. "Let me know immediately if you notice anything. I'll be out in five minutes, whether I've found it or not. Stay alert."

Jenkins replied, picking up his cane and watching the disguised, beautiful woman dash into the room.

A quick scan through the wall revealed the cluster of light points representing Miss Hersha. Near one of the walls, he also spotted the faint, yellow aura of something shaped like a violin.

He shrugged and turned to watch the entrance of the corridor, cane in one hand, the other gripping his pocket watch.

"How am I going to report this tomorrow?"

The question vexed him.

Miss Hersha, it seemed, was unfamiliar with this theory. Jenkins glanced back occasionally to see her moving briskly about the room, passing the target's location several times without ever noticing it.

It must be covered by something, he figured.

Three minutes and forty-one seconds into the red-haired young woman's search, two new clusters of light appeared in the adjacent hallway—one a level 3, the other a level 4.

Beside the level 3 Enchanter was a golden, book-shaped object.

Jenkins was startled. The object's shape immediately brought his own church to mind, and it took him a moment to remember he was in disguise.

"Ah, it seems we're too late."

The pair approached swiftly, and within seconds they stood at the other end of the hall, beneath an oil painting of a knight.

"What are our chances?"

the taller of the two, a man as thin as a rail, inquired. He wore a black top hat, a black overcoat, and matching trousers, looking for all the world like he had just come from a funeral.

The shorter, equally gaunt man mumbled, his eyes fixed on the book in his hands. He, too, was dressed entirely in black.

"The probability of success is sixty-two percent... wait, now it's forty-two... no, it just jumped to ninety-nine... Oh, by the Sage, how did it drop to zero?"

Jenkins deduced they were believers of the Sage, but not official Church Enchanters.

"There's something off about this one. Why do we keep running into such strange people lately?"

The shorter man said cautiously. He snapped the book shut, glanced up at an elegant gas lamp on the wall, and then bolted.

The tall man watched his companion's retreat in astonishment. He shot Jenkins a sheepish grin before immediately turning to flee as well.

Jenkins had no idea where these two lunatics had come from, but he knew one thing: they were completely spooked.

The two men skidded to a halt, throwing their hands in the air and dropping to their knees. They slid forward several feet before shuffling around on their knees to face Jenkins.

"Our sincerest apologies for the disturbance!"

they yelled in unison. The sight, combined with their comical attire, was truly something else.

"What are you doing here?"

Jenkins asked in a low voice, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"We're looking for a violin. Last month, the Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe was performing in New Truman City, right when the Evil God Scion descended. We witnessed a pseudo-god manifest in the mortal world through one of the troupe's female members. The rumor is that any object touched by a Saint has a small chance of becoming a special artifact. That's why we've tracked it here."

Had he just stumbled upon something significant?

Jenkins's thoughts were in turmoil, but his expression remained impassive.

It had been nearly two months since the Evil God Scion incident in New Truman City. Had the Church still not resolved it? And wasn't that the same direction the murderer who stole the Shard of Death's Cloak had fled?

"Answer one question, and you may leave. Which great entity was it?"

"We wouldn't dare spy on a Saint!"

they answered in a fluster. When Jenkins remained silent, they began to shuffle backward on their knees. Once they were out of sight around the corner, they scrambled out a nearby window with surprising speed.

Despite being on the second floor.

It was most likely the demigod known as the Wondrous Musical Score. Otherwise, there was no reason for both artifacts to be musical instruments. This meant Miss Hersha's story about the item was suspect. But what about The Suicider's Final Chant from that flesh puppet? Had it also been in New Truman City? If so, was the Club of Light Chasers connected to the Evil God Scion's descent? The sheer number of cults involved was staggering.

Jenkins mulled this over, his eyes narrowed in thought. He turned and pushed open the door behind him.

"You heard them, didn't you?"

Miss Hersha forced a smile, her thoughts unreadable.

"I couldn't find it. Let's go."

She brushed a stray strand of her disguised, pale-yellow hair from her sweaty cheek and tugged on Jenkins's arm, ready to leave.

Jenkins gently shook off her hand and strode into the room. He turned left, threw open the lid of the second red wooden chest, and smashed his fist through a false bottom. From the hidden compartment, he pulled out a blue cloth bag containing a red violin and its bow.

He walked out briskly, thrusting the bag at Hathaway, and then hurried away. His leather shoes clicked sharply on the polished white stone floor.

"You weren't telling me the truth! You have some kind of treasure-sensing ability!"

Jenkins paid her no mind, his thoughts racing as he quickly vanished down the other end of the corridor.

She stomped her foot to vent her frustration. She pulled a few banknotes from her pocket, tucked them under a small box on the vanity, then slipped off her high heels and vaulted out the window.

Shoes in hand, she padded barefoot across the lawn outside the opera house for a short distance before letting out a sharp whistle. A young woman dressed as a maid immediately emerged from nearby.

"Take this back to its usual place."

She handed the blue instrument bag to the maid, who nodded nervously, turned, and scurried toward a carriage waiting in the shadows of a tree.

Dispelling her disguise, the red-haired young woman straightened her slightly disheveled clothes and walked back into the opera house.

"Hmph. Williams," she muttered to herself. "Don't think you can act so high and mighty just because you have a few special abilities. I'm certainly not going to thank you for that."

Fuming, she stomped back up to the second floor in her heels. In her earlier haste to search the room, she had clearly missed the bizarre exchange between the two strangers about their "probability of success."

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, her expression settling back into one of elegant composure.

"What took you so long?"

Briny Mikhail complained in a hushed tone. Dressed in a gorgeous, lace-trimmed gown, she didn't turn around, keeping the golden opera glasses at the end of their handle raised toward the performers on stage. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novel⦿fire.net