Chapter 1510: Chapter 1510
Bumping into an old friend in a foreign land was always cause for celebration. After learning that Jenkins had no plans for the evening, Mr. Hood, who was also free, invited him to a bar for a drink.
Jenkins never touched alcohol, aside from the occasional taste of wine. But since Mr. Hood had extended the invitation, he figured sitting in a bar for a while would be fine. After all, there was no law saying you had to drink.
Mr. Hood ran a large business and came to Bel Diran at a fixed time every year to handle his affairs, so he was quite familiar with the pubs near the hotel.
By nine o’clock, the bar was already buzzing with activity. The two men found seats at the counter, ordered their respective drinks, and resumed their earlier conversation.
“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve heard anything about that special tobacco. Mr. Candle, do you have any new information?”
“The Orthodox Churches have learned through special channels that besides its insidious effect on the soul, the tobacco also influences the user’s dreams.”
This was intelligence Jenkins had obtained from the pseudo-god, Spiraling Mist, which he had later found an opportunity to report.
“The Church is using this as a starting point for their investigation. The most preliminary findings show that the dreams of everyone who has smoked the tobacco exhibit a certain degree of synchronization.”
“Sorry, what does that mean?”
“It means that the tobacco allows people in different locations across the material world to have a chance of meeting in their dreams.”
“But what’s the point of that? Surely those people aren’t trying to develop a whole new method of long-distance communication for everyone, are they?”
“The specific objective is still under investigation, but a connection in dreams implies a connection of spiritual power. Add to that the mental distortion caused by the soul’s mutation, and this vast, twisted mass of spiritual energy could be used to accomplish a great many things.”
Jenkins explained, though in truth, he didn’t fully grasp it himself.
“That sounds terrifying.”
“What’s more terrifying is that, aside from a few Series B Extraordinary items and Series C Bestowals, there’s currently almost no way to eliminate the tobacco’s effects. The Church hasn’t released the number of people who’ve come into contact with it, but one can only imagine it’s an astronomical figure.”
As he finished speaking, Jenkins swatted away his cat’s paw as it tried to touch his glass. He then raised his cup, clinked it against Mr. Hood’s, and drained the crimson beverage in one go.
“The material world is really descending into chaos. I’ve heard it’s not just in Nolan—the frequency of Mysterious Objects appearing is increasing everywhere. Since the beginning of this year, events that could be called large-scale disasters have been happening one after another. Really, the only incident that’s been completely resolved is the Snowman Legion in the far north.”
Mr. Hood seemed deeply worried, staring blankly at the glittering liquor in his glass.
“Things will get better. Everything will get better,” Jenkins said, patting his shoulder. When he was sure no one was looking, he flicked a finger against the freshly served glass of grape juice, and a layer of frost immediately coated the surface of the liquid. It was summer now, and a chilled drink was obviously more refreshing. “Even mortals have their own strength and resolve. Besides, if the sky comes crashing down, the gods will be the first to hold it up, followed by the Orthodox Churches, and only then would it be our turn, the unregistered Benefactors. You don’t need to be so down.”
“But we have to do something. If we wait until the sky is actually falling to look up, I think it’ll be just before we die.”
Mr. Hood, now slightly drunk, spoke with conviction. Just as Jenkins had thought, he was an admirable man with a strong sense of responsibility. Chapters fırst released on nοvelfire.net
“I’ve been investigating a lot of things lately, and I’ve read up on some ancient legends and myths. There’s a theory that at the end of every Epoch, a great cataclysm is bound to occur, and a Savior will inevitably be chosen to save everything. Hmph.”
He raised his glass and took another drink, letting out a derisive snort.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do mortals really need a Savior to rescue them? Can’t we save ourselves? Is the entire hope of the world to be placed on one person? This might be a rule that hasn’t changed for thousands of years, but I think it’s unfair.”
Jenkins had nothing to say, so he just silently sipped his juice and continued to listen.
“Perhaps it’s for the good of the world, and I’m just stubbornly convinced my own ideas are right. I have no intention of changing any of it, but at the very least, I want to do what I can. Hic.”
The middle-aged man let out a sudden hiccup. He had been drinking too fast, and even with a high tolerance, it was inevitable he’d start feeling the effects.
“Mr. Hood, have you actually discovered something?”
Jenkins asked, probing gently.
“No. Ha, like I said earlier, I’m only in Bel Diran for work.”
When Mr. Hood had said this back in the room, Jenkins’s Lie Godhood ability hadn’t reacted at all. But now, it was signaling a lie. This meant that his thoughts had changed in his slightly inebriated state. Though he would regain his senses when sober, it was proof enough that Mr. Hood was not entirely ignorant about the unique tobacco.
A smile touched Jenkins’s lips.
“Mr. Hood, I think you’re drunk. Oh, please, look here. Look into my eyes...”
He never used the power of lies on his friends, but for someone already a bit intoxicated, the power of mere words was more than enough. Jenkins was an incomplete pseudo-god walking the material world. In his non-divine state, he lacked the might of a deity, but that didn’t mean his words were as mundane as a mortal’s, simply vibrating the air.
Regardless of the principle behind it, after some deliberate flattery and careful prying, Mr. Hood finally revealed the information he had about the tobacco.
It was around ten o’clock at night when Jenkins finally helped Mr. Hood back to his hotel room. He gave him some water to drink, tucked him into bed, and then left.
Of course, he didn’t forget to spend a few pence to ask the hotel attendant at the front desk to wake Mr. Hood early the next morning. After all, he had a busy day ahead of him.
Before leaving the hotel, Jenkins once again checked on the status of Papa Oliver and his family. They had already returned to their own hotel, so he set his mind at ease.
The Bel Diran night was carved into small sections by the glow of the gas streetlights. With his destination now known, Jenkins moved through them. He chose not to inform the Church and drag a hundred Benefactors along to raze the place to the ground. To avoid alerting the enemy and to gather more clues and evidence, Jenkins decided to go it alone this time.