Chapter 183: Chapter 183
A single glance was all it took for Jenkins to realize something was amiss. There were no streets in Nolan blocked by ancient trees, and the body's original owner, a native of the city, had never heard of the council closing off a thoroughfare just to protect old timber.
An impulse to speak surged within him, but he instantly clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Make a wish... voice your truest desire!”
A voice, impossible to place as male or female, echoed from deep within him. The urge to speak was like one of Chocolate's claws, gently scratching at his heart. He blinked, and his eyes confirmed his suspicion—the entire tree emanated a dark spiritual glow.
This came as no surprise. Everything about it, from its location to the fact that it remained so robust despite the autumn season, screamed that something was wrong.
Jenkins’s hiding spot gave him a direct view of the ancient tree. The three black-robed figures conversing below, however, stood well clear of the area beneath its sprawling canopy.
“No, this is completely wrong. Why would we of all people stumble upon A-01-2-2221? I’ve never considered myself that lucky.”
The man retreated as he spoke. “You both know what the Unfortunate Wishing Tree does. I'm not getting anywhere near a thing like that.”
He backed away, step by step, until he was swallowed by the shadows where the moonlight couldn't reach, vanishing from sight. The two remaining figures turned to face each other, and the atmosphere grew inexplicably tense.
Jenkins hoped, carefully controlling his breath. But the two below clearly already knew what it was, and neither offered an explanation.
The slightly taller man murmured, “I can compensate you for it.”
“No, I need it as well. I can also offer you compensation.”
The raspy-voiced woman retorted.
The voice sounded familiar to Jenkins, so he risked another glance in their direction.
“Let’s see... the number of light specks, the color combination, the speed and direction of their rotation... could that be... Magic Miss?”
High-level Enchanters possessed more spirit and were more attuned to the world, making their senses incredibly sharp. Jenkins didn't dare risk another look. Instead, he leaned back against the statue, hugging his cat, and fixed his gaze on the slanted rooftop as he continued to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“I have a lead on the *Codex of Spirit Rites* and *The Lost Document* hand-copied by the Sage of the Tower—the ones you’ve been searching for. And... I can give you one of my fingers.”
The man made the first offer, preferring to resolve the dispute in a more civilized manner. A fight here would be unwise; a patrol from the Orthodox Church, equipped with special items, could show up at any moment.
But his offer was clearly insufficient.
“A special ritual: Spirit Investiture of a Corpse.”
Her words were simple but effective. The man didn't immediately counter with a higher offer, instead falling silent for a moment.
“And if that's not enough, I'll throw in a piece of information. About a demon.”
Silence fell again. Jenkins stared up at the night sky, hearing nothing. He waited for their conversation to resume, a wait that stretched on for a full ten minutes.
The rustle of trembling leaves drifted up from the empty street. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the highest leaves on the tree slowly retract.
“How is the tree disappearing?”
Jenkins wondered in confusion, then realization dawned. The deal was done. The rest of their conversation must have been conducted through more secretive means, which was why he hadn't heard anything.
A pang of disappointment hit him. He'd spent nearly half an hour in the cold night air on this roof for nothing. Jenkins rubbed his numb legs, and just as he was about to stand, he heard the sound of the wind being torn apart.
A figure floated up from the ground below, landing steadily on the edge of the roof.
The black-hooded Enchanter took a step forward, moving past the statue, and froze. Jenkins was sitting right there. Thanks to the concealing hood, they were at least spared the awkwardness of locking eyes.
“Good evening. How did you spot me?”
Jenkins pushed himself up, steadying himself against the stone statue. Chocolate leaped from his arms to his shoulder, having at some point transformed into a solid white cat.
“No, I didn’t spot you. I thought you were here waiting for me...”
Magic Miss retreated as she spoke. A hexagram pendant hanging outside her black robe began to flash, and the air seemed to grow heavy. A blue circle of light materialized at her feet, filled with strange, snake-like runes that writhed and squirmed.
“No need to be alarmed. We’ve met before. At Mr. Hood’s gathering.” Fresh chapters posted on novelꞁire.net
Jenkins spread his hands to show he had no ill intent, but Magic Miss jumped, nearly activating the pendant on her chest.
Her gaze shifted to the white cat on Jenkins's shoulder. “Mr. White Cat?”
“No, I’m Mr. Candle.”
As he spoke, Jenkins summoned his pentagram emblem. Magic Miss visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief, but she remained on guard.
“Right, right. Your disguise is as brilliant as ever.”
She summoned her own Soul Emblem to confirm her identity, but another question quickly occurred to her:
“How did you know who I am?”
Her wariness clearly ratcheted up a notch.
Jenkins couldn't answer that. He thought for a moment before replying, “That's a personal secret. But rest assured, my being here tonight was pure coincidence. I just happened to stumble upon your conversation.”
“So, can I leave now?”
the woman asked. Just then, a dark cloud drifted from nowhere to obscure the blue moon, bathing the entire world in an astonishing red light.
“You’re free to leave whenever you wish. But I was hoping I could ask you a few questions. For a price, of course. Just like at our gatherings.”
The cat, growing impatient, rubbed against Jenkins's face. He brushed its tail aside, as it was swaying back and forth and blocking his view.
“Information for information.”
They were strangers, but they had done business before. Though she didn't lower her guard, she didn't leave immediately either.
“Deal. I want to know about that tree.”
First things first, he had to satisfy his curiosity.
“A-01-2-2221, the Unfortunate Wishing Tree. You make a wish by smearing your blood on its trunk. The wish will come true to an extent, but never completely. Depending on the wish's difficulty and how much of it is fulfilled, the wisher will suffer a series of misfortunes for the following year. Of course, this misfortune can be counteracted by certain rituals from the Church of Hermits. After granting a wish, the tree moves to a new location. Normally, you'd only ever find it out in the wilderness, far from anyone... Now, my turn. I want to know what the Church of the Starry Sky and Equilibrium was doing outside the city last night. Why were the corpses of twenty-eight executed prisoners transported there?”