Chapter 165: Chapter 165
Even though Nolan City was one of the kingdom's most economically developed cities, it had no streetlights. As far as Jenkins knew, even in the royal capital of Bel Diran, some major streets had only just gotten them this past spring. The Nolan Daily hadn't reported any news of streetlights being installed in the city yet, but he figured the people of Nolan, never ones to be left behind, would probably enjoy illuminated night streets within two or three years.
The bars tucked away in the city's corners were still open for business, but the main avenues were deserted.
Jenkins moved along Fifth Queen's Avenue, sticking close to the walls to avoid patrolling police officers, then turned onto the stone-paved road leading to the Dock Area. A point of light appeared in the distance, followed by the clatter of horse hooves and the rumble of wheels on the road.
The coachman, oblivious to Jenkins at the corner, adjusted the position of a hanging kerosene lamp. He glanced up at the marble building with its high, pointed roof, then drove on, carrying a tall, thin, bearded gentleman in the carriage.
The city had no official curfew, but the patrolmen would be suspicious of anyone lurking about at night. And if he was unlucky enough to run into a squad of Enchanters from the Orthodox Church in police uniforms, they might be able to tell what color his underwear was with a single glance.
Jenkins's destination was the Church of Ocean and Exploration in the Dock Area. Thıs content belongs to ɴovelfire.net
He summoned his black robe from the shadows to alter his appearance, then had Chocolate watch over his cane at the base of a brick wall. He took out a stack of white paper, thought for a moment, and then put it away.
Spreading his hands open, he concentrated, and three sheets of standard printing paper materialized in his palms. Their snowy white color seemed to gleam even in the darkness.
It had been a while since he'd handled paper . Jenkins was lost in thought for a moment before activating his Book of Memories. A front-view, side-view, and back-view portrait of the Pirate King—Femishue the Destroyer—appeared on the paper, in full color. Finally, he printed Femishue's name in block letters at the bottom of the page, and the job was done.
Tiptoeing, he slipped into a nearby residential yard and cut through several gardens until he reached the welfare home directly across from the church.
The yard's wall wasn't too high and the street wasn't very wide. Jenkins folded the three photo-like sheets of paper into airplanes and tossed them, one by one, toward the other side.
His craftsmanship was decent, and the wind tonight wasn't too strong. Of the three paper planes, two landed on the white stone steps before the church entrance. The third wobbled into a decorative stone pillar and drifted down to its base.
He let out a long breath and took the long way around to find where Chocolate was waiting. The cat was a little displeased about being left on the street, but forgave him once it was back in his arms.
This was Jenkins's own small contribution to Nolan City. Besides, if Femishue did manage to sneak into the city, it would be a very dangerous matter for a peace-loving author like himself.
He had originally planned to go home and write, or perhaps practice his shooting at the Oil Ink Mister Club, but it was still only eight in the evening. Since it was still early, Jenkins went home, changed his clothes, left some food for Chocolate, and headed out again.
And then Chocolate, with a flick of its tail, slipped out too.
After an hour's walk, he reached the edge of the city. He found a small grove of trees, ventured deep inside, and walked at a leisurely pace until he was certain no one was around.
He leaned against a tree, idly kicking aside the fallen leaves at its base. First, he took out a coin from his pocket that felt like wood to the touch—a Blasphemy Seed. Following the instructions he'd read at the church that day, he infused a small amount of spirit into it, brought it to his lips for a gentle blow, and then quickly held it to his ear.
For a long while, he heard nothing but incomprehensible whispers, none of the so-called blasphemous knowledge.
"Is the church's information wrong?"
He pocketed the coin, musing that a byproduct of a black ability couldn't possibly be this simple.
He summoned the motes of light representing his abilities and focused on the red one: Twin Demons.
He hadn't had a chance to test this ability until today. But the effects of martial-type abilities were usually quite conspicuous, which was why he needed to find a quiet, deserted place to try it out.
Based on a literal interpretation of the name, Jenkins had guessed the ability would summon a clone of himself. But the result of his test was far beyond his expectations—
After mentally activating the red mote of light, a humanoid shadow reeking of thick sulfur and wreathed in black smoke appeared behind Jenkins, its back pressed against his.
The shadow had no distinct features; its height and build were obscured by the billowing smoke. He tried to control it, only to find he could do nothing more than designate a single target.
He set the target as a nearby tree, already bare of leaves. The dark figure streaked through the night like an afterimage, lunging toward it.
A tremendous explosion roared, and Jenkins instinctively dropped to the ground, covering his head.
He picked the fallen leaves from his hair, brushed the dirt from his shoulders, and looked up. Where the tree had been, only a crater remained. Black flames flickered within it, shrinking until they finally sputtered out.
Jenkins rubbed his hands together and cautiously approached the crater. It was then he realized the true nature of the ability: summoning a self-destructing demonic phantom.
He grinned, unsure of what to make of this power. He carefully erased his footprints and any other traces before leaving the area.
On the other side of the city, the young cat, having left its master, trotted smugly down the street. Two policemen walked toward it, chatting in low voices as they passed the wall where Chocolate had been perched, completely oblivious to the adorable feline.
Chocolate looked up at the twin moons overhead and let out a menacing cry, then leaped down with nimble grace. It moved through the streets like a shadow, this cute creature visible to no one.
With a light push from its hind legs, the cat soared across the wide Westminster River. As it glided through the air like a bat, its yellow, slitted pupils caught sight of a man lying at the bottom of the river, but it paid him no mind and continued on.
Even the moonlight seemed to deliberately avoid Chocolate as it slipped like a shadow through the slumbering city. Ahead stood a dark villa, utterly without light. Chocolate paused at the street corner to carefully examine the signpost, then vaulted into the yard.
The door was locked. The windows were locked, too. There even seemed to be traces of a special warning ritual on the walls. But that didn't matter. With a soft meow, the clever cat passed straight through the wall and landed on a sofa inside.