Chapter 166: Chapter 166
Chocolate let out a soft sneeze, its nose twitching at the lingering scent of spices. It made no difference. The cat bounded up the stairs to the second floor, where the bedroom door swung open before it without a sound. Paying no mind to the sleeping Miss Audrey, Chocolate slipped inside and leaped onto the desk, the soft pads of its paws muffling any sound.
The desk was bare save for an exquisite brass lamp. Its dark brown wooden surface, polished to a gleam by a maid, reflected the strange, ethereal moonlight.
Chocolate groomed its face, its small nose twitching as it sniffed the air before letting out a lazy meow. In response, motes of light began to glitter throughout the room, coalescing into a miniature cosmos. At the very heart of the swirling starlight, a red notebook materialized out of thin air.
In the bottom-right corner of the diary's cover was a perfectly drawn five-pointed star, and emblazoned across the center was a sentence written in the Common Tongue—
The stars blaze across the firmament, and the cosmos is with me.
A large, black hand emerged from the void and presented the diary to Chocolate. The golden clasp sprung open on its own, and as the pages began to flip, the cat, sitting obediently on the desk, tilted its furry head.
It let out a questioning meow, and the pages stilled.
Its vertical pupils scanned the three rather bizarre phrases: "World Tree Seedling," "The Unknown Path," and "Twin Demons." The cat seemed to ponder them for a moment, then closed the notebook with a look of satisfaction.
Once everything had returned to normal, Chocolate hopped off the desk and slipped out under the door. A few seconds later, however, it wriggled back in, leaped onto the bed, and gently patted the sleeping Miss Audrey's face twice with its long, fluffy tail. Only then did it bound out of the house for good.
When Jenkins arrived home, he found Chocolate perched on his bedroom windowsill, quietly gazing up at the moon. The room was dark, and the cat, bathed in the pale light, looked strangely forlorn.
Jenkins took off his coat, scooped up his little cat, and gave it a gentle pat. Then he set it down in its little bed beneath the window—a spot it always refused to stay in.
Chocolate looked up at its master, its amber eyes wide with an innocent expression. Then it hopped back onto the bed and burrowed under the covers, leaving only a distinct lump to mark its presence.
There was one last thing to take care of tonight. He hadn't used his [Disease Curse] ability in quite some time.
He had accomplished a great deal today, but this was one task he couldn't afford to forget.
To avoid contaminating the house with ritual materials, he decided to perform the ceremony in the small, tile-roofed shed in the corner of the yard.
The shed was originally used for storing gardening tools—pruning shears, a watering can, and the like—all left behind by the previous owner.
Jenkins planned, when he found the time, to dig a tunnel connecting the shed to the house's basement—which was really just a storeroom—for the sake of convenience in his future endeavors.
With practiced ease, he drew a circular ritual array on the floor with blue chalk. He then took out a slender piece of metal, uncorked the test tube Captain Bincy had given him, and tipped the single strand of hair it contained into his palm.
"What illness should I use?"
He mused to himself as he wound the hair around the piece of cursed black metal.
The common flu was the only disease whose cause and mechanism he truly understood, as a textbook from his school days had used it as the primary example for explaining the immune system.
Before his transmigration, Jenkins had been an engineering student, so his medical knowledge was limited. Furthermore, the curse was bound by several rules: its potency was linked to the caster's understanding of the disease; it couldn't cause instant death; the illness had to be a real, existing one; and it couldn't directly alter the victim's physical structure. This meant that more "creative" ailments like cerebral hemorrhage, cardiac arrest, or AIDS were off the table.
After weighing his options, he decided to stick with the flu.
Just like last time, he pressed the metal entwined with hair onto the ritual array and began to chant an incomprehensible incantation in a low voice. Judging by the pauses, the incantation consisted of three stanzas—a common way for Benefactors to gauge the power of a spell. An ability like [Astral Perception], which required no incantation at all, was obviously among the weakest. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the nοvelfire.net
As the man whispered, the flame of a nearby kerosene lamp began to flicker as if in response. The heart of the flame gradually blackened, and for a fleeting moment, a terrifying, indistinct human face materialized within it before vanishing as the fire returned to its normal color.
This was a common phenomenon when using spell-type abilities. The manipulation of spirit always attracted strange things, and the best course of action was simply to ignore them. Besides, not everyone possessed spirit sight as keen as Jenkins's, which was a result of his active Eye of Reality.
Once the incantation was complete, the strand of hair looked as if it had been embedded into the black metal. Jenkins left the piece in the center of the array and covered it with an empty flowerpot. This way, the curse would persist until the enchanted metal had completely corroded into ordinary rust.
He had done the same with the hair from the other two swindlers, but considering the sheer power of his curse—and the fact that they hadn't committed any crime worthy of death at his hands—Jenkins decided to leave this one covered only for a single night. He would end the curse first thing in the morning.
Even so, it would be enough to leave them gravely ill and bedridden for months.
There were countless Cursed Items related to hexes, and [Disease Curse], when combined with most of them, could produce terrifying results. Take A-12-3-0993, the Human-Bone Arrowhead, for instance. Once lodged in a victim's body, it could trigger every dormant disease they carried. If someone already afflicted by [Disease Curse] were then struck by this arrowhead, whatever illness they had would instantly become acute, leading to multiple complications and a swift death.
But Jenkins had no way of finding such dreadful artifacts.
The days remained peaceful until the weekend, and Jenkins cherished the quiet time. Papa Oliver's lessons were growing progressively more difficult. He was now learning complex ancient languages, a study that was immensely helpful for both his antique appraisals and his understanding of the occult.
Many of the incantations still used for spell-casting abilities actually had intrinsic meanings, but most Benefactors were ignorant of the corresponding written languages. The ancient tongues Jenkins was studying had begun to touch on this subject, but he knew he still had a long way to go before he could truly decipher their meaning.
He found time to meet with Mr. Brode again. Just as the Bishop had said, Mr. Brode's collaboration with the Church had been a resounding success. He now planned to partner with major foreign publishers to launch the "Stranger's Story Collection" across the entire continent, a project he was extremely confident about.
The publisher was also keenly interested in Jenkins's next book. He initially suspected Jenkins hadn't even started writing it, but his doubts vanished, replaced by a warm, satisfied smile the moment Jenkins produced the manuscript.
"A Williams never lies."
Jenkins assured him, holding his cup of tea as he sat across from Mr. Brode.
Since the new book was on the table, there were a few things he needed the publisher's help with.
"It's ," Jenkins began. "Since 'A Frozen Tale' involves descriptions of a kingdom of ice and snow, it needs to feel authentic to be believable. However, I've never been to the distant northern Hamparvo Kingdom, and Nolan's winter scenery is hardly enough to help me depict such a place. I was wondering, have you ever traveled there?"