Chapter 1272: Chapter 1272

A distant glance at Maidenhaven Road was enough for now. Jenkins decided to pay a proper visit after returning from Ruen. He maintained his disguise as a heavyset woman, trailing behind his meandering cat, and planned to leave the area at the next intersection. But then he saw Papa Oliver walking straight toward him.

He was a hair's breadth from calling out a greeting to Papa Oliver but caught himself just in time. As they brushed past each other, Jenkins felt his heart leap into his throat. After passing him, he was consumed by the fear that Papa Oliver would suddenly call out, "Jenkins!"

But thankfully, he did not. His current disguise as a portly woman was hardly one anyone would associate with the young author.

Rather than a chance encounter, Jenkins suspected Papa Oliver was there to visit the Williams family. Burning with curiosity about what he wanted to say, Jenkins rounded the corner and, with his cat, changed his appearance once more. This time, he became a salesman in a cheap suit carrying a briefcase, standing at a distance beneath a lamppost. He pretended to look at the street, while in reality, he was observing the two people on either side of the fence.

It seemed Papa Oliver was not there to see Mary, which meant he must be looking for Robert. To avoid being detected by Papa Oliver's keen senses, Jenkins kept his distance, making it impossible to hear their conversation. He only saw Papa Oliver exchange a few words with Mary. After she shook her head, he handed her a folded piece of paper and then left.

"So, what's on that paper?"

Jenkins was dying of curiosity, but bursting into someone else's house...

"Wait a minute, that's my house too," he reasoned. "Even though I've moved out, my room is still there."

Shedding his hesitation, he calmly took a detour around the block, then hopped the fence into the backyard. Using the back door key hidden in the flowerbed, he let himself into the house.

Bent over to avoid being seen from the window, he crept forward in a furtive crouch. His cat padded silently behind him, observing his ridiculous movements.

"Shhh~" For origınal chapters go to noⅴelfire.net

The man suddenly turned and hissed at the cat. The cat glanced around, confirming he was talking to it, though it had not made a sound.

It took him a moment to shuffle his way to the corner of the dining table. Still crouching, he quickly reached up, felt for the edge of the paper, and snatched it down. He unfolded it, glanced at the contents, and imprinted the image in his mind like a photograph before quickly transferring it to the Book of Memories.

Then, he placed the paper back where he had found it. Remaining in his crouch, he pivoted on his right foot, twisted his body, and with a swift movement, slipped out of the room toward the kitchen door.

A few seconds later, he poked his head back in and beckoned to the cat, which was standing by the table leg. Chocolate, who had been staring dazedly at the soft white bread on the stove, hurried to follow him out.

All in all, the operation was a success; no one had seen Jenkins. It was only after he was outside that he remembered he could have created an illusion of himself outside, which would have saved him the trouble of sneaking back out.

Once he was far from Maidenhaven Road, Jenkins changed his appearance for the umpteenth time in an alleyway. Then he found a café, sat down, and examined the contents of the Book of Memories.

The handwriting was unmistakably Papa Oliver's, and the opening identified Robert as the recipient. The letter was only half a page long. It began with the usual greetings, the second paragraph mentioned Jenkins's business trip to Ruen, and it ended with a brief note about Hathaway and Briny. The third paragraph was slightly longer:

"Regarding that matter, the important figures in Bel Diran have not yet made a decision, but the day is not far off. Robert, I imagine some people have already approached you in recent months, more or less. You probably understand that the day is coming. I did not wish to disturb your family's life, but this is not something our generation can decide. As for the Church's stance, which you were concerned about, His Holiness the Pontiff sent a letter personally. The original is kept at the church by the Bishop, and you can retrieve it when you have time. But now there are four Williamettes. Have you made your decision?"

"What does this mean? How could Father have connections to the Church's high command? What important matter would require him to consider the Church's opinion? And the Pontiff himself wrote him a letter..."

His first suspicion was that news of his involvement with Dolores had reached his family in Nolan. But thinking along those lines, something did not quite add up.

Jenkins racked his brain but could not figure out what they were talking about. He saved the letter's contents in the Book of Memories, planning to ask for Alexia's opinion when he got back, or simply ask Robert himself upon his return to Nolan.

From what both he and the original Jenkins knew of their father, Robert was not the type to enjoy keeping secrets. If you did not ask, Robert would keep a secret under the pretext of "You never asked, so why should I bring it up?" But if you did ask, as long as it was not a matter of principle, he would usually tell you.

He breathed a sigh of relief at that thought and picked up the coffee the waiter had just brought, taking a small sip. He still was not used to the taste. Even though it was a popular, invigorating drink, Jenkins preferred plain water or tea.

It was just past ten o'clock. For now, his business in Nolan was concluded. Aside from keeping an eye on Hathaway's "dice game," Mr. White Cat's notice about his missing cousin next Monday, and Magic Miss's magazine of sweater patterns, he was largely free of any concerns in Nolan.

"But I'll still need to visit Hathaway frequently," he mused. "I'm in Ruen right now. If I don't see her often, she might think I'm unreliable."

As he thought this, he swatted away Chocolate's little paw. He could not just order a single drink at a café, so the cat had set its sights on the small dessert on the table.

"I remember your appetite being terrible last month. How come you're suddenly so ravenous again?"

He asked his cat, who, naturally, could not answer him.

On the principle of not being wasteful, he intended to finish his coffee before returning to Ruen to find something to do. But as he frowned his way through half the cup, he noticed that the woman at the next table looked familiar.

It took him a long moment to realize it was Miss Capet. It was not that Jenkins was forgetful; the woman had deliberately disguised herself, making her difficult to recognize by her face alone. It was her profile—so familiar to Jenkins, though he could not place where he had seen it—that gave her away.

"What a coincidence."

Jenkins muttered to himself, picked up his knife, and sliced into the delicate little cake on his plate. He forked a small piece into his mouth. Hearing him chew, the cat gulped, nearly frantic with desire.

"The last time we met, I promised to ask Miss Knight about her dragon bloodline awakening with her, but my trip to Ruen delayed everything."

The culprit, of course, was Chocolate. That paw that knocked over the bottle... Jenkins would remember it for many years, along with the humiliation of being turned into "Cat's Mouse."

The woman was not alone at the café. Just as Jenkins finished his cake and was debating whether to abandon his coffee, a man came through the door and sat down opposite Miss Capet.

He was also an acquaintance: Mr. Grev, the Saint of the Church of Creation and Machinery. He was just as discreetly dressed and did not even remove his hat after sitting down.

They spoke in low voices, their words completely drowned out by the accordion playing in the corner of the café. Jenkins pretended to read a magazine, watching them out of the corner of his eye. He only saw that at the end of their conversation, Mr. Grev pushed a metal box across the table to Miss Capet before getting up and leaving.

"Strange, I thought Mr. Grev had left Nolan long ago. Aren't Saints with public identities usually very busy? And with him staying in Nolan, wouldn't the local churches protest?"

Puzzled, he watched as Miss Capet, now alone again, stared blankly at the metal box. Then, she carefully pressed a square on top of it. With a click, the sound of rapidly interlocking gears whirred from inside. A few seconds later, a small drawer popped out from the side of the box, and Miss Capet took out the pendant inside.

It was an irregularly shaped piece of metal, like an unfinished industrial part, its copper color mottled with rust. Jenkins could not tell what it was. A thin cord was tied around this piece of metallic junk. Miss Capet very carefully lifted it, then lowered her head and tied it around her neck.

"Hmm... that looks a bit familiar... Wait. Is that..."

He had never seen an object of that exact shape, but he had seen something of a similar material, color, and size. Two months ago, while investigating the divinity-infused cemetery in Shire, he had spent a week in Shire City. A lot had happened during that time, and one minor incident was finding the grave of "another Williamette."

The deceased old man was not actually related by blood to the Nolan Williamettes; he was an adopted son. But among the belongings his landlord had given Jenkins was a metal pendant that the old man had treasured before his death—an heirloom passed down by a true Williamette.

Later, after returning to Nolan, he learned from Robert that there were three such pendants in total. They had been given to three brothers by their great-grandfather—Robert's grandfather. Robert's line inherited the pendant of the youngest son, while the Williamette in Shire was descended from the second brother.

As for Robert's uncle, the eldest of the three brothers, he had taken his family and left the city where the Williamettes used to live long before the plague broke out thirty years ago. They had lost contact long before Robert fled to Nolan.