Chapter 119: Chapter 119

"Three of them. That's why I suggest you learn how to extract soul gold. Your soul is certainly strong enough to make three gold coins!"

He nodded, closed his eyes, and, as was his custom before any major decision, prayed to the Sage. "May the Sage protect me. May your light illuminate the path ahead."

After making the holy sign, he tossed the white coin in his hand. "I want to learn how to create Blasphemy Seeds."

"Are you certain? Don't assume simple blasphemy is enough to extract that kind of knowledge. It's not nearly so easy."

"My mind is made up. Let's not waste any more time. The train is about to reach the next station, isn't it?"

"As you wish, esteemed guest."

The conductor pointed a finger, and a ray of black light pierced Jenkins's skull. He felt nothing unusual, only a black speck of light appearing before his eyes.

[Blasphemous Creation (Black Sacred)] For origınal chapters go to novel★fire.net

Jenkins let out a dry laugh. What could be more ironic? He had guessed there might be black-colored abilities, but he never imagined one would be labeled "Sacred."

He sat down, gripping the armrest of his seat with one hand, and focused his mind on the newly acquired ability.

In his perception, the only viable target in the area was himself.

A corpse was obviously useless for extracting blasphemy, but the conductor... he was clearly not a normal being.

The moment the ability took effect on him, knowledge from his past life surged violently through his mind. Atheism, the theory of evolution... not just those, but also small fragments from his elementary school education, the spirit of his university political philosophy courses, the clash of gods in Hollywood blockbusters, the forbidden films watched in the solitude of night, the wanton twisting of myths in video games, and the defiant cry of "my fate is my own, not for the heavens to decide" roared while gazing up at the starry sky...

Jenkins was stunned to realize just how much of what he had learned and known before he transmigrated could be considered "blasphemy."

But his astonishment lasted only a second before he was engulfed by an endless torrent of pain.

Green vines materialized from the void, plunging into his temples from either side and siphoning something from within.

As Einstein's theory of relativity flashed through his mind, Jenkins felt as though he was truly experiencing the slowing of time. It was an agony unlike anything he had ever known, a pain that erupted from the deepest corners of his soul. He trembled for less than a second before collapsing to the floor.

A final shred of dignity allowed him to bite through his lip and stifle a scream. They were the longest dozen or so seconds he had endured in his two lifetimes.

When the vines had absorbed enough blasphemy, they transformed into three green coins and dropped to the ground. Jenkins mustered his strength and canceled the ability.

A feeling of emptiness washed over him, followed by an intensely sacred sensation. He faintly heard divine music and saw beautiful figures emerge from the clouds. Jenkins felt as if he had been purified.

Though they were called Blasphemy Seeds, they were still shaped like coins, identical in size to the White Bone Core from before.

The extreme pain still seared his nerves, while the emptiness and sanctity of his soul intensified his desire to abandon reality.

"Here, take them! Now let me go!"

He forced the words out through gritted teeth.

The conductor, his face still placid, beckoned with his hand, and the green coins flew into his grasp automatically.

"Excellent. High-quality blasphemy. To forge such currency with the power of a single person... guest, I am very curious about what it is you do."

"I'm curious myself. You, the Master of this Mysterious Realm, seem far too talkative compared to the others I've met."

"Oh, guest, please don't call me the master. The masters of a Mysterious Realm can only be those..."

He closed his eyes and said no more. Just then, the carriage door the conductor had used to enter opened behind him. Beyond it was not the night, but a brilliant white light.

"If I gave you a few more coins like these, could you tell me the relationship between the masters and these station-worlds?"

"Guest, I am merely a conductor."

Jenkins drew a breath, pushed himself up from the floor, and walked briskly toward the exit. But just as he reached the conductor, he spun around, bent down, and snatched up the rapier used by the man who had been killed. The red spiritual glow upon it was intensely vibrant.

Without asking another question or even glancing at the conductor again, Jenkins plunged into the white light.

The conductor tossed the one white and three green coins into his mouth and began to chew them slowly. His placid face twisted into an expression on the verge of tears.

"Gods, you are so unfair! Why? Why could he pass through here? Why is his soul so powerful? Why did that dead man have a White Bone Core? Why must I also obey the rules of this Mysterious Realm? Why, oh why, can I not leave this place and enter that world!"

He muttered on and on, his placid face finally showing a human expression.

This Master of the Mysterious Realm, it seemed, was very different from the ones Jenkins had encountered before.

At the same time, the night outside the windows crept in, assimilating everything it touched.

"Why, why? I don't want to die~"

He was still crying out as the night consumed him completely.

The pencil in his hand fell to the floor, and the night graciously left a final, narrow path open for it.

The pencil rolled into the white light.

"Why haven't I leveled up yet?"

That was Jenkins's first thought after his senses returned. He was sitting on the railroad tracks, the horrific scene of the train wreck laid out behind him.

A mournful cry echoed from a distance before a black shadow shot out and pounced, knocking Jenkins over.

It was, of course, Chocolate.

Only a very small number of mortals with the potential to become Enchanters could enter a Mysterious Realm, and Jenkins had never heard a precedent for an animal doing so. Though throwing a kitten from the window of a speeding steam train was just as dangerous, he figured the odds of survival were still higher than bringing it into a Mysterious Realm.

Thank goodness. Chocolate's fur was caked with mud, but its four legs were still healthy, and its body had only a few scrapes.

Jenkins felt a pang of pity and activated his ability to heal it. The cat nuzzled affectionately against its owner's face.

"Chocolate, I almost died just now."

He spoke softly as he pressed a hand to the cat's wound, not expecting a response, merely reflecting aloud on his narrow escape from death.

He murmured, releasing his hand. Seeing that the cat's wound had healed, he finally felt a sense of relief.

He searched himself and, sure enough, found a sharpened, red wooden pencil tucked behind his right ear.

"Let me guess... a Bestowal?"

Spirit flowed from his hand, completely immersing the pencil.

He glanced at the wreckage nearby—half a train car, a field of severed heads, and scattered luggage—and let out a sigh.

"Praise the Sage. May your radiance light their path forward."