Chapter 1452: Chapter 1452

"My identity? Oh, I'm actually a..." Follow current novels on novel~fire~net

As his thoughts raced, Jenkins managed to coin a term:

"A demon hunter. Yes, that's what I am. I specialize in hunting demons. I heard rumors of one in this town, which is why I came. But things are more complicated than I anticipated. I haven't caught the sickening stench of sulfur that clings to demons, so I imagine whatever lurks in the shadows here isn't something so straightforward, is it?"

The Nightwatch Captain gave Jenkins a sidelong glance but offered no objection to the self-proclaimed profession.

"I'm afraid you've come all this way for nothing. Whatever strange entity is in this town, it's certainly no demon. It's something far more terrifying. I can't even say for sure what it is, but it seems to be some kind of event- or phenomenon-based Cursed Item."

"A Cursed Item? That is tricky indeed."

"Well, if it's not a demon, then it's outside my purview. I'll leave town promptly so I won't be in your way... Speaking of which, have you reported this incident? If the Cursed Item spirals out of control, I imagine the town's forces alone won't be enough to suppress it."

As he said this, his gaze suddenly fell upon the young, self-proclaimed demon hunter before him:

"Besides demons, do you happen to have any other... specializations?"

"That would depend on the compensation."

Jenkins replied in all seriousness.

An agreement was reached quickly. The local church would compensate Jenkins for investigating the town's bizarre phenomenon. They likely didn't expect him to resolve the situation entirely, so the pay wasn't astronomical, but by Jenkins's own calculations, it was still a very handsome sum for the times.

The advantage of working with the church was access to more information. It was only now that Jenkins learned the 'Demon Between the Fingers' wasn't a recent manifestation, but a legend that had been circulating in the town for ages.

"We don't know whether the legend itself gave rise to a Cursed Item, or if the Demon Between the Fingers was something people noticed long ago. Generations of townsfolk have grown up with the tale, but in the past, no matter how the more daring among them tried, none ever succeeded in glimpsing it. That changed three months ago. The youngest son of the Boko family, who lived in the eastern part of town, tried to summon it one night... and his entire family went insane. It took us considerable effort to piece together what he'd done from the ravings of the poor boy."

"Did anyone else attempt a similar summoning after that?"

"After the incident, we took measures to warn the townsfolk against any similar attempts. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. There are always daredevils who crave a thrill. It was only as the number of people driven mad began to climb that they finally realized the church’s warnings weren't just idle threats. But by then, it seems the multiple summonings had empowered the demon, giving it the ability to appear in town whenever it pleases. Now, even without being called, townspeople sometimes run into it in alleyways after dark."

Beyond a record of its appearances and sightings, the church could offer no further useful information; they knew nothing of the entity's abilities or weaknesses. Still, the various folklore studies and historical documents had given Jenkins a hazy picture of what this so-called 'Demon Between the Fingers' might be.

In his opinion, even among all the Cursed Items he had ever encountered, this one ranked among the most dangerous. A wish-granting spirit, quite possibly born from local folklore, was far more insidious and perilous than any other type of Cursed Item.

Papa Oliver had warned him repeatedly about entities . However, in the relatively stable Eighteenth Epoch, nearly all such Cursed Items had been sealed or contained. At least, according to the records of the Church of Knowledge and Books, nothing of the sort had surfaced in the last thousand years.

"So how did people deal with these things in ages past?"

While selecting ritual components at the church, Jenkins posed this question to the Nightwatch Captain, who admitted he had no idea either.

That night, Jenkins went alone to a crossroads in the western part of Black Town. In the final moments before midnight struck, he brought the thumb and index finger of his right hand together before his eyes, aligning the gap between them with the center of the intersection.

A passing cloud obscured the moon for a few seconds. When the light returned, a tall, slender man appeared in the frame of his fingers. He had a long face, a bare, shining head, and his hands were clasped behind his back.

He was dressed in a brownish-yellow robe, with a cloth sash at his waist securing a waterskin and a rolled parchment scroll. He wore simple cloth boots, and his entire appearance suggested someone from a desert region.

"Oh, it seems the town has a rather remarkable visitor."

He spoke before Jenkins had a chance, his voice rising and falling with a theatrical cadence, like a stage actor delivering his lines. His large eyes, startlingly disproportionate to his narrow face, regarded Jenkins with keen interest as he raised a hand to stroke the short, downy beard on his chin.

"I've come to make a wish."

"Yes, people always come to me seeking wishes, but this time, I'm afraid I cannot. I cannot grant your wish."

"Because you wish to banish me from this place, and I have no desire to leave yet. Perhaps you could make a different wish? Let me guess... you crave greater power, perhaps? Or a new weapon?"

Jenkins's eyes narrowed at the man's words. This creature, whatever it was, had offered choices all related to power. Yet Jenkins was using his own face, an appearance that should have prompted wishes for 'passionate love' or a 'successful career'.

For the being to have said such a thing meant it perceived a need for power in the seemingly scholarly Jenkins. In other words, it was highly likely that the entity knew about the false identity he had concocted in the church earlier that day.

A church was blessed by divine power; there was no way his conversation could have been overheard. Therefore...

"My mentor warned me many times to never make a wish lightly. I'm sorry, but I don't think I require you to grant any wishes for me."

"Very well, outlander. Then allow me to offer you a piece of advice: leave this place at once! This town holds far more secrets than you can possibly imagine."

With that, the man stepped back into the shadows behind him and vanished. A dark, spiritual aura dissipated along with him, yet an oppressive presence still seemed to hang over the town.