Chapter 1526: Chapter 1526

"It's the power of a Cursed Item!"

Miss Capet warned him from behind. She felt a familiar power emanating from Jenkins, but for the moment, she didn't dwell on it.

"This is no Cursed Item. Mortals cannot possibly imagine what we discovered down there!"

The man from the Gear Artisans' Association swung his sword again, and Jenkins met the blow with his cane. Even with his current strength, he still failed to gain an advantage in the clash.

Guessing what was happening, Jenkins wielded his cane like a sword. During their brief exchange, flames spread from the cane to his opponent's sword and then onto his clothes. The undying flames of purification swiftly incinerated his clothing and skin, revealing the arm's true nature—a steam-powered device intricately woven with flesh and blood.

Miss Capet let out a nauseated gasp; like Jenkins, she despised such unnatural body modifications. Suppressing his own revulsion, Jenkins knocked the man back again and demanded loudly:

"This is what you seek? You'd willingly become this monstrosity, all for the sake of power?"

"You wouldn't understand, you Believer of Lies. This is the true path of human evolution."

He stumbled back a step, and Miss Capet rushed to steady him. Placing a hand on his back, she began to heal him. A life spirit that resonated with his own bloodline flowed into his body, instantly mending his injured organs.

Frowning, Jenkins pulled the cat from his coat and placed it on a nearby counter. The glass of the display cases had already been shattered by the earlier blast. The receptionist leaned against the wall, watching the three of them fight with a blank expression, showing no intention of stopping them.

"Do you see, you Believers of Lies? This is the path humanity must take. The end of the Epoch is upon us. If we do not choose to evolve, we will simply be cast aside by the world."

The man laughed heartily, the giant gear behind him growing even more solid. In the void behind him, a source of spirit—visible only to Jenkins's eyes—poured continuously into his body. This meant the man was fighting him to a standstill purely because of some distant support. It wasn't his own power, which meant he shouldn't be too difficult to defeat.

The air in the train car filled with the acrid stench of burning flesh and oil—one part from the scorched skin, the other from the fumes released as the cultist's body vented steam.

"How much of your body has been mechanized?" Jenkins asked suddenly.

"Ninety percent. Your weapon is useless against me."

the cultist declared, leaping into the air with his sword held in both hands. Giving Jenkins no more time to talk, he brought the blade down directly toward his shoulder.

Jenkins shoved Miss Capet back to a safer area. With a slight shake, the cane in his hand transformed into a spear.

The spear was much longer than the gear-sword, so Jenkins was able to stab the man in the left side of the chest while he was still airborne. But the attack was useless. The transformed spear couldn't penetrate the steel plate forged from some mysterious alloy covering his chest; it merely glanced off with a shower of sparks.

And taking advantage of the moment Jenkins's right hand was numb from the impact, the gear-sword came crashing down.

He threw up his left hand to block the flat of the blade. Even though the sword had no sharp edge, the immense force of the impact fractured his wrist and nearly sent him sprawling.

But this was his goal. Enduring the searing pain, he dropped the cane from his right hand. Seizing the opportunity of their close proximity, two spiraling bands of silver light, like a flowing galaxy, materialized before him.

With a flick of his right hand, Jenkins sent a small speck of light flying straight into the man's forehead. The force behind his swing instantly vanished. His body seemed to freeze in place, and he crashed to the floor, still locked in his descending posture.

He began to convulse, and the magnificent gear image behind him distorted a few times before vanishing. Simultaneously, steam poured relentlessly from the man's pores, and an unnatural clicking and clattering from within his body grew steadily louder.

He had used [Knowledge Bestowal] because it was an ability belonging to the Church of the Sage. With Miss Capet right beside him, Jenkins absolutely could not risk using [Blasphemous Creation].

The otherworldly knowledge had directly obliterated the soul within the mechanized body. Without a soul to support it, the completely unnatural shell began to self-destruct.

"I'm warning you, if that thing explodes and destroys this car, you couldn't afford to compensate me even if you sold everything you own,"

the previously silent receptionist said, looking at the expanding cloud of white steam.

"Well then, we'll sell it to you. Are you buying?"

Miss Capet replied instantly. The receptionist's eyes lit up.

"Of course. This is a most novel creation. I imagine someone will appreciate it in the next century."

"Leave us one arm. Also, we only accept Sin Coins for payment. We all understand the value of this shell."

Jenkins, who had struggled back to his feet, said as he held the cultist's sword. The blade was attempting to infect his wound with tiny gears, but they melted away the instant they came into contact with his blood.

"But I did solve its self-destruction problem for you..."

the monocled receptionist muttered. He casually grabbed an empty case from behind the counter and tossed it into the cloud of steam. A moment later, the expanding vapor dissipated. The receptionist walked out from behind the counter and picked the case up off the floor.

The front of the case was glass, allowing customers to see the item inside. Through it, Jenkins and Miss Capet could clearly see the shrunken corpse of the man lying within.

"The arm~" Newest update provıded by novel⦿fire.net

the receptionist hummed. Using a pair of tweezers he was holding, he carefully detached the arm from the miniature corpse. He worked meticulously, taking care to keep the connecting gears and bearings intact.

When the small arm was removed from the case, it immediately returned to its original size, landing on the shattered glass of the counter.

With no skin to cover it, the arm lay glistening under the gaslight—a gruesome construct of bright red muscle interwoven with alloy cables, structural gears, and pressure pumps. The red flesh, brass-colored alloys, and black gears combined to form a truly brutal 'work of art.' Its thoroughly artificial aesthetic and grotesque materials made the malevolent creation a masterpiece of exquisite horror.