Chapter 152: Chapter 152

"Actually, I have a candle that hasn't gone out since I got it," Jenkins said. "Perhaps we can push it through the door and see what happens inside. If it's still an illusion, then we can reconsider our approach."

As he spoke, Jenkins reached into his pocket and pulled out an ordinary, burning candle.

Professor Burns's eye twitched. He knew, of course, that a lit candle couldn't just sit in a pocket. This young man before him either possessed some rare method of spatial storage, or this candle was...

He recalled Captain Bincy mentioning a "once-in-a-century" reward from the Church just a few days prior.

Professor Burns felt a flicker of understanding.

"If that's the case, then that's wonderful," he declared, his face breaking into a gratified smile. "Don't worry, I won't reveal your secret."

He looked as if Jenkins had just accomplished something monumental.

Jenkins secretly worried that the professor's emotional rollercoaster might be taking a toll on his mental state.

The candlelight remained faint, but it showed no sign of extinguishing.

Overjoyed, the two men pressed their heads to the crack in the door to peer inside. The space was smaller than an average household washroom, completely enclosed by stone walls. A strange green plant clung to the wall directly opposite the door, slithering toward them like a python. It resembled ivy, but no ivy on earth could move that fast.

Jenkins was the first to ask.

"A small room, a few chests, and a plant crawling this way."

The professor's answer was terse.

"That's what I see, too. So, it's not an illusion?"

The words had barely left Jenkins's mouth when the fastest of the vines shot through the doorway.

Its tip recoiled a few inches before lunging forward, launching the entire vine through the air.

The professor's hand clamped down on Jenkins's shoulder, yanking him aside. He swung his umbrella, and the crack of a sonic boom shook dust from the stone ceiling above.

The vine was smashed in two. Its front half went limp and lifeless, while the back segment continued to writhe on the ground, though it had lost much of its vigor.

"Just how strong is the professor?"

Jenkins marveled silently, quickly aiming the candle's flame at the endless stream of vines pouring through the door, but they refused to ignite.

"Plants are supposed to be weak to fire. Why won't it burn?"

"I remember now!" the professor exclaimed. "This is a special plant that releases a hallucinogenic powder. It's a common material for illusion-type abilities! It usually grows underground, is sensitive to sound, takes thirty years to mature, and its appearance is similar to..."

Professor Burns lectured while continuously swinging his umbrella. The whoosh of it cutting through the air was a constant sound as he snapped the encroaching vines one after another. Jenkins was profoundly grateful that the door couldn't open any further; otherwise, they would have been running for their lives.

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"The cold. Low temperatures will make it go dormant. Then we just need to dig its roots out of the rock crevices. This is excellent material, you know. The powdered rhizome sells by the grain!"

Jenkins shrugged off his somewhat restrictive overcoat and tossed it aside. "Stand back, Professor," he muttered, then activated the red spark of power before him and began hammering his fists into the surging mass of plants.

The vines felt disgusting, like punching a squirming ball of cotton candy. The dim light of the basement made it impossible to see if they were actually freezing, but Jenkins could feel their movements slowing and the temperature in the room plummeting.

The professor had already circled around to Jenkins's side, gripping his umbrella with both hands and bringing it down in powerful strikes. The sharp crack of shattering ice was unmistakable.

Jenkins gave the professor a heads-up, then kicked away the ice shards with his black leather boots and slipped through the doorway in a flash.

He held his breath, wary of the stale air. Something was moving on all sides. The light from behind grew brighter; the professor had followed him in.

Pressing their backs to the door to prevent being surrounded, Jenkins and the professor fought as a team—one landing punches, the other swinging his umbrella. They battled until their Spirit was nearly exhausted before they finally located the plant's roots, buried deep within a fissure in the rock.

Before Jenkins could even act, the professor's right hand became a claw. He plunged it directly into the stone as if it were tofu and ripped out a huge mass of the green root system. He repeated the motion several times, and soon, the plants stopped moving altogether.

Without a word, the professor grabbed Jenkins by the sleeve and yanked him back out of the room.

He gasped for air, then advised Jenkins, "In long-sealed spaces , there are often undetectable toxic gases. They'll make it hard to breathe, and then you'll die. When you enter a place in the future, always put a lit flame inside first. If there are toxic gases, the flame will go out quickly."

Jenkins nodded, realizing with amusement that the chemists of this world had yet to discover oxygen.

The two waited outside for a long time. Finally, they extended the bamboo pole with a kerosene lamp on its end back into the room. After timing it with a pocket watch and seeing the flame burn steadily for a full minute, they each picked up a lamp and stepped inside.

It was now nearly two in the morning.

Their boots kicked up a layer of fine dust from the floor. Jenkins had already put his coat back on. His use of Frost Punch had made the space at least five degrees colder than the basement outside.

Because the room was so small, its contents were visible at a glance. Two large chests stood against the far wall. Other than that, the room was empty.

Exercising caution, they stood at a distance and prodded one of the chests with the bamboo pole.

He used the pole to nudge the large, conspicuous lock. It immediately clattered to the ground. Jenkins and Professor Burns both took a synchronized step back.

Still, nothing happened.

Using the pole, they pried open the chest's lid. Then, one by one, they tossed in a series of talismans: Toxin Identification, Foulness Purification, Danger Warning, and Shadow Realm Concealment Prediction (the most expensive one). From within the chest, they heard only the soft clink of metal falling.

Again, nothing happened.

The two men let out a collective sigh of relief. They exchanged smiles, straightened their clothes, and then, raising their kerosene lamps high, they leaned over to peer inside the chest.

The walls of the chest were surprisingly thick, which meant the interior space wasn't all that large.