Chapter 115: Chapter 115

"What you saw was the extent of my abilities. If you want to know the principles behind them, you can find him. He lives at..."

Jenkins dutifully pretended to jot down the address of his unfortunate, nonexistent friend. He nodded to the girl behind him, who began to play her instrument, and the baron sank back into a deep slumber.

"Let's go," he said quickly.

"Wait. How were you so skilled at that?" Miss Hersha asked, grabbing his hand with a hint of suspicion.

"I'm just a struggling writer. When I'm brainstorming plotlines, isn't it perfectly normal to imagine this sort of thing?" he replied, his expression a mask of injured innocence.

"Then why were you carrying a gun?"

Jenkins put on an embarrassed look and scratched his head. "Well, when you invited me, you said it would be dangerous. I was a little worried."

They made it back to the carriage without incident. After discarding the charms and returning to their original appearances, Jenkins let out a long sigh of relief.

"Why is it that every time I go out with you, we end up acting like thieves?"

Jenkins grinned. "I know this is robbery. When I get back, I'll pray to the Sage and ask her to forgive my transgression." Follow current novels on noveⅼfire.net

As he spoke, he pulled out the baron's wallet, emptied it of all its cash, and tossed the leather husk out the carriage window. He hesitated for a moment, but still turned to the girl and asked.

"It's only twenty-something pounds. That's hardly a sin. You're an Enchanter, don't you get it? An Enchanter! We wield great power, which demands even greater humility. But that doesn't mean we have to second-guess every move we make. You're too naive, Jenkins. Without my help, you won't get far on this path."

Miss Hersha brought the subject up again.

"What you said earlier, about the devouring trait? That was genuinely the first I've ever heard of it. Do you have a match?"

"What for?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Thank goodness the baron didn't carry any coins.

Miss Hersha snatched the wad of banknotes from his hand and stuffed it into her own pocket. "Are you insane?"

"No, although kingdom law does state that intentionally damaging currency is illegal..."

"Who cares about that? I mean, why would you burn them?"

"You only sound like a proper Enchanter when it comes to things ," she grumbled, likely thinking of the gun again.

"Relax. This money can't be traced. Don't argue with free gold pounds."

She turned her head away in a huff, staring out the window at the passing nightscape.

"Oh, I see," Jenkins could only nod meekly.

"Didn't you give me 200 pounds just the other day? You must be quite wealthy..." he thought to himself, blinking. The crystal hair ornament, usually adorned with a gemstone, that the young red-haired woman often wore was missing today. That was it. Although Miss Hersha's father was an earl, he was nothing like Briny Mikhail's father, a marquis who commanded military power. Earl Hersha fit Jenkins’s image of a struggling noble far better.

"By the way, I need some high-purity gold flakes, and a few other special metals. Do you have a source?" he asked cautiously.

"How much do you need?"

"Not much, not much at all."

Jenkins stated the amount, then pulled a cloth pouch from where it was sewn into his underclothes. Inside was the 200 pounds he'd received from her.

"What is the meaning of this? You know roughly what these metals cost. Around one hundred and fifty pounds should be more than enough."

This time, she seemed genuinely angry.

"No, I need them urgently. By tomorrow morning."

The red-haired girl eyed Jenkins with suspicion. After a long moment, she finally took the money from his hand.

He really was in a hurry.

The next day, as soon as he saw Papa Oliver, Jenkins told him everything that had happened the night before.

Of course, in his version, he and Miss Hersha had merely gone to an ordinary ball, never expecting to encounter anything involving the supernatural. Jenkins Williams and Hathaway Hersha were just two kind, innocent citizens.

"You're saying Hathaway Hersha invited you personally?"

"Pops, that's not the point."

"Oh, fine. We'll talk about that later. You're saying you didn't sense any spirit from the ritual materials?" Papa Oliver asked, his voice grave and his brow furrowed.

"Yes, and you know how sensitive I am to that sort of thing..."

He snatched Jenkins's coat and threw it at him. "Don't bother coming in today... or tomorrow. I'll come to your house and let you know when you can return to work."

With that, he began to push Jenkins toward the door.

"What's going on?" Jenkins protested, digging in his heels.

"It's none of your business. Here."

Papa Oliver tore a corner from a newspaper, grabbed a pen, and scribbled a line of text.

"Go buy a train ticket. Collect a debt for me at this address."

Jenkins looked down. The address was a street in Shire City.

The original Jenkins had never been there. Based on the geography he had recently studied, the city wasn't far, but even by steam train, it would take half a day to reach.

"Pops, tell me the truth. What's wrong?" he asked, his tone serious.

"It's nothing. Now go, hurry up. And tell Old Jack I said hello. It's been too long since I've seen him."

Without another word, he shoved Jenkins out of the shop and slammed the door shut. A few seconds later, the door opened again with a jingle of the bell, and Chocolate was unceremoniously tossed out onto the street.

"Pops, what is really going on?"

"It's not your concern. Just go. Remember, I'm the one who sent you to Shire City."

A carriage rumbled past, and Jenkins immediately fell silent. He waited until there were no more passersby before calling through the door:

"Pops, I need some blood-stained refined iron. Could you help me find some? It won't be too late to leave after you've found it."

There was no sound from within, but a few minutes later, a small box was tossed out.

Without even looking at it, Jenkins called out again, "That's too much. I only need a piece the size of my fingernail. Pops, open the door and take it back."

Jenkins stood in front of Pops Antique Shop for a long time before remembering the back door in the warehouse.

He circled around, but the back door was already locked. From there, Jenkins ran to the church, but Captain Bincy said he hadn't seen Papa Oliver all day, and Bishop Parrold had left with a group of clerics two days ago to preach in the countryside.

Dejected, he could only hug Chocolate and head for home.

Papa Oliver had been standing at the corner of the street where the church was located the entire time. Only after he was certain Jenkins was truly gone did he press his hat down on his head and hurry back into the church.