Chapter 1783: Chapter 1783

"You see," Jenkins proposed after his friends finished their summary, "this might mean the killer was one of his own accomplices."

An idea had already taken shape in his mind, and he knew exactly how he would report the matter to the Church.

He was about to ask if they had tried to contact the spirit, but Magic Miss, standing by the window, suddenly gestured for silence.

"Someone's coming! Something's not right. These people... they're off."

Mr. Hood and Mr. Black Cat immediately moved to the door, while Miss Silver Flute, still manipulating her ropes, listened intently to the sounds from outside. Jenkins joined Magic Miss at the window and glanced down.

"They're just ordinary people... which is exactly what's wrong."

It was nearly midnight, far too warm on a summer evening for heavy coats. The black fabric did a decent job of concealing their unusually bulky figures, but the darkness was no obstacle to Jenkins's keen sight.

"Looks like our luck is turning," he remarked.

He walked over to the door, taking up a position beside Mr. Hood to the left of the frame. He gestured for Miss Silver Flute to pull Luther's corpse into the corner before cracking the door open just a sliver.

The interrogation confirmed it: the three men were Luther's accomplices, a crew of professional swindlers. Everything in Mr. Luther's diary had been true. Jenkins flipped back through the pages and found the entry where Luther mentioned chatting with a chef. That must have been true as well. However, they had no real connection—it was just idle talk on a shopping street. Therefore, Tackwen's "suicide" had nothing to do with him.

As for Luther's death, the other three were completely in the dark. They had come tonight to divide their ill-gotten gains and get out of town. The four swindlers knew that one of their victims had caught on, so they had no intention of staying in Nolan.

The black coats they wore were stuffed with bundles of banknotes, which explained their bulky appearances.

"They're telling the truth."

Jenkins confirmed after the interrogation, then turned his puzzled gaze back to the corpse.

"So how exactly did he die? And speaking of which, did either of you see a wound on the body?"

The wound had vanished when the body merged with the steam engine, so he had to ask Mr. Hood and Mr. Black Cat, who had been the first to arrive.

"Probably poison. We just saw him on the floor, his face pale and bluish, convulsing. Then he just... stopped breathing."

"Did he vomit anything?" Magic Miss added.

"I checked the carpet," Miss Silver Flute said regretfully.

"I checked the carpet, but I found nothing,"

"That's odd. It couldn't have been suicide, could it?" Content orıginally comes from Nove1Fire.net

As Jenkins spoke, he and Mr. Black Cat dragged the three unconscious men into a corner. Then he walked back to the levitating corpse of Mr. Luther, examining the screw piercing the back of his hand and the spring protruding from his upturned eye.

"When he merged with the steam engine, did his clothes merge with him too?"

"No, these are the same clothes he was wearing."

Mr. Black Cat replied after a moment's thought.

Taking a risk, Jenkins summoned vines from a seed. He paid the price of three vines becoming completely infected by the curse—twisting into metallic tentacles that fused with Luther's body—but in exchange, he managed to retrieve the man's coat.

He put on his glasses and scanned the coat with his Eye of Reality, detecting an incredibly faint black aura. He had to press his face almost to the fabric; otherwise, he would have missed the subtle glow entirely.

The glowing area looked like a damp patch, though it was bone dry—no surprise, given the heat radiating from Luther's corpse.

After a moment's thought, Jenkins snipped off the small piece of fabric. He fetched a glass of water from the washroom and soaked the cloth in it. A few minutes later, he dipped his finger into the water, then rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. He felt a faint, almost unnoticeable, burning sensation.

"Don't tell me you can actually detect a trace that faint?" Magic Miss asked, astonished.

"Of course not," he replied. "I was just trying something. The only truly effective method is... a bit disgusting."

As he spoke, he touched the wet finger to his tongue. He let out a muffled grunt as if in pain, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He calmly took a towel, wiped his hand, and then announced:

"Rest assured, this wasn't a natural death. It's the Gear Germs... at least, this time it was."

(Chocolate, running...)

Thursday morning on St. George Avenue was as tranquil as ever. The street was shrouded in a familiar haze of smoke and dust as Mr. Goodman, ready for work, kissed his wife goodbye at their front door. After bidding his family farewell, he covered his mouth for a pair of coughs and muttered a curse about the city's foul air. As he walked, he glanced toward his neighbor's house. The mail had been collected from the Williams's letterbox and the milk brought in from behind the gate, but the house remained silent. Its owner, he presumed, was still asleep.

But thanks to Chocolate, Jenkins was long since awake. He sat with his family around the dining table, a newspaper spread open in his hands. The front page featured a photograph of Tackwen, the Proud, attending his final summit.

Chocolate stood placidly on the table, nibbling at his own breakfast. Hathaway, who was on a diet and eating very little, propped her chin on her hand and watched Jenkins's cat.

"So, the Church and the Fidektri Kingdom have no intention of revealing Tackwen's death was a suicide?"

"Of course not. What good would come of exposing it?"

Jenkins's voice drifted from behind the newspaper. He sounded tired; he hadn't gotten home until late last night and was short on sleep.

"We know Tackwen chose the second prince, Brier Alecio—who's currently in Nolan—as his successor. Isn't it a better idea to simply threaten him into ensuring Cheslan continues to participate in the Tri-King Summit?"

Briny's voice drifted down from the stairs. She appeared in her nightgown, yawning as she descended. Julia, who was seated to Jenkins's right, immediately rose to prepare a plate for her.

"Who are you threatening now?"

"I'm not threatening anyone," Jenkins clarified. "The Church has simply decided to prevent the war from spreading. I received a note this morning. The Fidektri and Hamparvo Kingdoms will proactively send troops to help Brier Alecio 'pacify' the rebellion in his country. That way, he can remain in Nolan to represent his nation at the summit without worrying about affairs back home."

The blonde young woman chuckled.

"I highly doubt the borders will look the same once that 'rebellion' is put down."

"That has nothing to do with me," Jenkins said. "And since two kingdoms are lending their armies, it certainly won't be for free. Beyond advantages at the negotiating table, how much they can reasonably take for themselves will depend on their own skill. Of course, they won't go too far. The Church has given its tacit approval only because it doesn't want to see internal strife in the material world right now. But it certainly has no desire to see Cheslan completely annexed, either."