Chapter 1839: Chapter 1839

Miss Windsor was so close that Jenkins could smell the fragrance on her. He wasn't sure if it was her natural scent or perfume, but to keep his nose from being overwhelmed, he could only hold his breath.

"Miss Windsor, you certainly have the right to do whatever you please, but I wouldn't recommend this... It's summer, and it's quite hot. Could you take a step back? If you don't, I will."

Miss Windsor shook her head, then stood on her tiptoes, intending to kiss him. But Jenkins could dodge bullets—or so he believed, though he'd never tried—and had a wealth of experience with unwanted advances. It should have been impossible for him not to evade this.

He leaned back deftly, a flicker of pride in his swift reaction crossing his mind. He imagined telling Hathaway and Briny about it later that evening to demonstrate what an honest and dependable man he was.

But what he hadn't expected was for Miss Windsor, as she leaned forward, to reach out and press a hand against the back of his head. With a gentle push, their lips met.

It seemed this was one story he couldn't tell.

The contact was fleeting, over in an instant. Jenkins shot back like a startled mouse, then lifted the indignant cat from his shoulder to shield everything below his face, just in case Miss Windsor decided to lunge again.

"Miss, please, have some decorum. This is a public place."

Their conversation was taking place in a second-floor corridor of the city hall. Since it was the midday recess, very few people were around.

Jenkins added, cutting off whatever Miss Windsor had been about to say.

"Why is it wrong? You're not even engaged."

She had a point there. Jenkins had never gone through a formal engagement process; he had only made verbal promises of marriage to the young women.

"Besides, you're blushing."

Miss Windsor pointed out. Jenkins touched his cheek.

"Actually, I blush whenever I kiss any pretty girl. It's nothing unusual."

"Even with Hathaway Hersha?"

Jenkins thought for a moment.

Miss Windsor's expression was one of blatant, undisguised mockery.

"They're living in your house, so you've surely slept with them. You still blush even then? Jenkins, you're more interesting than I thought."

"Oh, miss, please mind your language."

After that, Miss Windsor gave him no further chance to speak. Instead, she tapped his chest with her right index finger, assuring him that no third person—or second cat—would ever know.

"Just consider this kiss my reward. After all, I've done so much for you. Don't worry, I'm not a despicable woman. I won't go out of my way to ruin your relationships."

The forlorn look on her face as she said this plunged Jenkins into an even deeper well of guilt.

Carrying this guilt, Jenkins returned to the church and met with Bishop Parrold again. The bishop was taken aback by the expression on Jenkins's face and, after several inquiries, finally managed to learn that it was merely a matter of romantic entanglements.

Although such a problem was utterly trivial compared to the world-saving mission Jenkins was shouldering, the bishop, as an elder, still offered his counsel.

"For matters , it's very difficult for us uninvolved parties to offer any advice."

"So that's your advice?"

Jenkins asked from his chair in front of the desk, peeling an orange. The fruit's sharp scent tickled Chocolate's sensitive nose, but the cat didn't move away, instead eyeing the orb in his hands with predatory focus.

"Yes, that is my advice." Updates are released by NoveI★Fire.net

Behind the desk, bathed in the glow of a floor-standing gas lamp, the old bishop rested his arms on the tabletop, his fingers naturally interlaced.

"This is your own affair, and you should resolve it yourself. Not even Robert and Mary are qualified to give you advice. After all, you're the one who, by your own efforts and in less than a year, convinced four young ladies to marry you, and they all get along splendidly. Tsk, to think of you last autumn, and to see you now..."

The bishop sighed wistfully, then delivered his conclusion.

"I can't imagine anyone more skilled at resolving such problems, so I have faith in your ability to handle this."

The bishop was, of course, teasing him, and though he offered no concrete advice, his words did lift Jenkins's spirits considerably. He hadn't come to see Bishop Parrold purely for relationship counseling; for that, a visit to Hooded Man's "Carmyle Psychological Counseling Firm" would have been more convenient.

"I plan to force Queen Isabella to abdicate next weekend."

The bishop, unlike Miss Windsor, showed no surprise. The old man nodded gravely.

"That's for the best. Dragging this out will only lead to problems. Besides, from our observations, Queen Isabella doesn't seem as opposed to you as we once thought... Next weekend gives you ten days. Are you prepared? While the Church can assist you, we cannot publicly declare our support. We can only leverage our influence behind the scenes... And I believe our private influence will be more than sufficient."

His left thumb stroked the signet on his right index finger.

"I understand. Our preparations are fairly complete, I think. My plan is to start spreading the word next Monday, announcing a speech on financial reform for either Saturday or Sunday, where I'll also expose a major scam. In the meantime, I'll hold two or three public speeches next week before the main event to attract an audience. I believe this will draw a much larger crowd for the weekend lecture. It is during this final speech that I will demand Queen Isabella's abdication. If two-thirds of those present support me, we should be fine. After all, we've won over all the essential nobles in the kingdom, and the navy is fully behind me. The army's situation isn't ideal, but we've made some gains. As long as I can secure my status as successor at that public event, Miss Windsor and Marquis Mikhail will handle the aftermath, and the Church can be of great help as well."

"It sounds quite solid, but the details will need refining. I'll find time to speak with that Miss Windsor, and I should also meet with Marquis Mikhail soon. The Holy See is likely making its own moves in Bel Diran... The other eleven churches will surely have reservations about the Saint of the Legacy Sage Church becoming a king, especially the king of Fidektri. But as long as you can win the crown through political struggle rather than supernatural means, they probably won't have much to say. The times have changed, after all..."

The bishop murmured to himself. Though not a politician, his years of managing the great Nolan diocese had given him a level of life experience and political acumen that far surpassed the young man from another world.

"But what scam are you going to expose? Have you seen through something again?"

The bishop inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"That's not important. It's just a hook to draw people in. I can just invent one in the next few days, get some people to act it out. It's not a big deal."

He answered vaguely, patching up the largest hole in his plan. The bishop, of course, had no idea what Jenkins had truly done or what his intentions were. He simply felt a swell of pride for the young man he had chosen, completely unaware of the multiple layers of purpose his protege had woven into this single event.

Now that he had the wrench and the Sin Coins, all preparations to venture underground again were complete. Jenkins's initial intention was not to delay, to go that very night; he had even arranged a time with Alexia.

But as evening approached, while he was in the kitchen cooking with Julia, the Church suddenly sent for him, urging him to come to the cathedral at once. Thus, the night's plans had to be postponed until tomorrow.

"Speaking of which, why were you cooking with your family's maid?"

The person who had come to fetch him was, of course, Papa Oliver.

"I saw Julia cooking by herself in the kitchen, and since I had nothing else to do, I went to help her."

Jenkins answered honestly, earning a long, scrutinizing look from the old man.

Being summoned to the church meant that something had happened again, which was a fairly normal state of affairs. This time, it wasn't related to the Believers of Lies, nor had the Gear Artisans' Association or the Tree House poked their heads out from underground again. A new Cursed Item had appeared in Nolan, and it was one that specifically targeted members of the clergy.

A-11-1-8821 [The Priest is Dead].

A-11-1-8821 [The Priest is Dead]. This Cursed Item would only manifest in a human settlement that had a church with more than twenty ordinary clergy members. After appearing, its range of activity was confined to the "parish"—the artificially designated human territory—and it would absolutely not cross into another parish until the event concluded or was forcibly terminated.

The Cursed Item's characteristic was that, at the outset of the event, it would randomly replace an ordinary human priest within the local parish, taking on their appearance, voice, and complete memories. Subsequently, this priest would tend to operate within the parish, spreading their faith to the populace. However, the faith they spread was no longer for the god the original priest had worshipped, but for a deity known as "The Unreadable."

Even with Jenkins's level of clearance, he couldn't see what was written in the redacted space, but Papa Oliver hinted that it was related to the [Ancient God's Dream] and advised Jenkins not to pay it too much attention, as it wasn't the main point.

The replaced priest would employ highly efficient methods to make ordinary people follow its god. Past data indicated a technique similar to mental imprinting and psychic displacement, fundamentally altering a person's thoughts. Once the priest successfully converted more than two ordinary people, it would then attempt to contact other ordinary priests within the parish, turning them into individuals with the same characteristics.