Chapter 1434: Chapter 1434

"If you don't answer my question, I'll show you what fate has in store for you this very instant. Don't let my age fool you, young man. You couldn't possibly guess how many people I've killed."

The old woman narrowed her eyes, pressing her cheek against the gun's stock. Her hand was rock-steady, her right index finger, capped with a copper thimble, curled around the trigger. Her warning was impossible to ignore.

"Without a suppressor, I doubt you'd dare fire."

"After the chaos this morning, do you really think Nolan's police are as quick to respond as they used to be? I won't ask again. Who are you? And what do you really want?"

"You're at an age where you should be enjoying life with your grandson. Why can't you just live peacefully? I truly am just here for the book. As for your identity... well, that's simple."

As he spoke, Jenkins reached out and clamped his hand over the gun's muzzle. Before the old woman could react, flames surged from his palm, melting the barrel with ease. As the fire crept down the gun's body, the highly conductive metal transferred the intense heat to Mrs. Wood's skin. She instinctively let go, watching in horror as the weapon melted in the stranger's hand, him kneading it like a ball of dough.

The gunpowder in the chamber exploded from the heat and pressure, but the blast didn't faze Jenkins. The flames concealed his injured skin, and the wound healed in an instant. He didn't stop until the gun was a flattened metal disk, which he then cooled with his ability before casually tossing it aside.

Mrs. Wood was clearly aware of the supernatural world.

"He's just an ordinary man, and we're just friends."

Jenkins said, holding out his hand.

"I don't want to have to repeat myself. Give me the book."

Having successfully retrieved the book from Mr. Birchwood's home, Jenkins didn't cause any more trouble for his friend's mother. He even left some money behind before he departed.

He quickly put the unpleasant encounter out of his mind. After leaving the apartment building, he glanced around before heading down the street in the direction of the Legacy Sage Church.

He tucked the book under his arm, resisting the urge to immediately flip it open and find the "interesting ability" Mr. White Cat had spoken of. The moment he'd taken it, a strange feeling had washed over him, a premonition that fate had once again laid out a path for him. But now was not the time to see where it led.

Many people had been injured in the Docklands today, far more than the hospitals could handle, so some of the faithful went to the churches for help. The Legacy Sage Church, with its convenient downtown location, had taken in the largest number of wounded.

Even a church that large couldn't possibly accommodate hundreds of injured people at once, so the bookstore directly across the street and two adjacent shops had been temporarily repurposed. They served as a place for the lightly wounded to rest while they waited for the church's priests to treat and comfort them.

Jenkins didn't dare enter the church with his current face, so he watched from a distance for a while before slipping into the bookstore across the street.

In addition to the church's clergy, local private doctors had been temporarily recruited to assist. So when Jenkins identified himself as a medical student, an old priest scribbling in a thick ledger gave him some simple tasks.

Once he got busy, he lost all track of time. Although he was mostly assigned simple jobs like helping the injured walk or cleaning wounds, he was constantly using his abilities on the sly.

Such an act might go unnoticed once or twice, but doing it all afternoon was bound to attract attention.

As the twilight glow filled the windows, the bookstore across from the Legacy Sage Church was still filled to capacity with the injured. Jenkins helped a middle-aged doctor with a small mustache hold down a patient while the doctor dug a bullet out of the man's arm with a small knife.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and was about to go find some water when he turned and saw Captain Bincy watching him.

He instinctively started to greet him but caught himself, remembering the face he was wearing.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Let's talk over here."

Captain Bincy gestured toward the bookstore's back courtyard. Jenkins nodded and followed him through the crowded room, out into a yard piled high with the shop's displaced furniture.

Once outside, the clamor of the room vanished. Jenkins saw the setting sun and knew he had stayed in Nolan for too long.

"You... are an Enchanter, aren't you?"

The two of them stopped. Captain Bincy lit a cigarette, skillfully blowing a smoke ring before asking his question. It was the first time Jenkins had seen anyone he knew smoke. He instinctively checked the color of the smoke, then realized how foolish his caution was. Captain Bincy would certainly know all about the forbidden tobaccos.

"Yes. I'm an Enchanter. An unregistered one."

He admitted it freely, with a nod.

"Whose follower are you? The God of Peace? Or the Uncaring Healer?" Dıscover more novels at ɴovelfire.net

Both of these deities presided over domains related to healing. In peacetime, their followers often ran clinics, typically offering one week of free treatment each year. In times of war, the followers of the latter tended to stick to their clinics, while believers in the God of Peace would become battlefield medics.

"No, I'm a follower of the Sage as well... Don't look at me like that. It's not a lie, I'd swear it to the Sage. I just don't like being constrained, so I never registered with the Church. Are you going to arrest me? Or force me across the street to confess?"

"I just wanted to confirm you weren't some suspicious character. As for arresting you..."

He shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette, tucking the half-smoked remainder back into its case.

"I'm not that idle. The truth is, the Church has never held any malice toward unregistered Enchanters. You don't like to register, and we rarely force you to come in and sign the books. According to the Orthodox Church's own estimates, there are probably a three-digit number of unregistered Enchanters living in the Nolan diocese. We know who some of them are, but as long as you don't break the law, the Church won't look into your affairs... To say nothing of the fact you were just saving lives. The Nolan diocese has very few Enchanters with healing abilities. If you were willing to become a Scribe, I could..."

"For the time being, I'd prefer to remain free. I believe I can spread the Sage's glory even if I'm not a Scribe."

Jenkins replied. He and Captain Bincy then both leaned back against the displaced bookshelves, gazing at the distant sunset.