Chapter 1840: Chapter 1840

The second priest to become a Mysterious Object possessed the same method of replicating his trait to other ordinary priests after converting two people. All these priests, spreading the faith of the "Unreadable," would copy their trait after their converts reached numbers like two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four, and so on, allowing their ranks to expand exponentially.

The people who chose to follow the "Unreadable" god showed no other dangerous abilities or behaviors aside from their change in faith. But when the number of normal, ordinary priests within an entire diocese fell below two-fifths of the number at the start of the "Priest is Dead" incident, all the peculiar priests and their faith-altered followers would spontaneously gather. They would then perform a ritual to pull the diocese out of the material world and into a terrifying, unknown space.

From the scant information the Church had gathered, the priests referred to that final destination as the "Dark Realm." However, the Church did not believe this was the name of some space outside the material world. Instead, they suspected it meant the vanished diocese had become food for some vile creature of the void. The "Dark Realm" likely signified the terrible maw of a behemoth lurking in the emptiness.

Though only a guess, this theory was widely accepted.

The way to stop the "Priest is Dead" incident from escalating to its worst conclusion was remarkably simple: kill all the priests whose bodies had been usurped, and the event would naturally end. Afterward, the ordinary folk whose faith had been altered would fall into a brief state of mental confusion, agitation, and other negative conditions, but this, at least, could be healed naturally over time.

Each of those priests possessed the strength of a Level 7 human Benefactor and would exhibit potent mental contamination and control abilities against anyone showing hostility. This meant a team led by at least a demigod Benefactor was required to subdue them. Fortunately, Nolan City, at this point in time, was perhaps the city in the material world with the most demigods to spare.

Because it was impossible to devote all their forces to this single matter, Jenkins, who happened to have a free evening at home, was called in by the Church to help. The Church believed that although Jenkins was not a demigod, his mental resistance was stronger than that of most, so they had him lead a Scribe squad to search the city for the priests.

He was partnered with Captain Bincy's squad, an elite unit from the Sage Church's Nolan diocese. Their joint operation also served to provide Jenkins with protection.

Of course, the group wasn't just wandering the city hoping to get lucky. After a brief consultation, the Twelve Orthodox Churches devised a plan based on past experiences with similar types of Mysterious Objects. They divided the diocese into a grid of sectors, assigning each squad to a specific area. At the same time, numerous mobile squads would patrol across sectors, ready to assist in cross-sector pursuits.

"Even though my home isn't far from the docks, I rarely come here at this hour. The night air here is really... choking."

A thin mist hung over the docks, but being close to the sea and with a fairly strong wind that night, the air was much better than in the city proper. The pungent smell, however, remained just as strong.

The group located their assigned sector on the map. After a brief discussion with Captain Bincy, Jenkins decided to send two men to patrol the waterfront. He and Bincy would take the rest of the team to quickly sweep the warehouses in the eastern part of the sector before finally paying a visit to the ships.

During this time, Jenkins had scanned the surrounding area with his eyes but detected no aura of a Mysterious Object. He had thought the night would pass without incident, even wondering if the Church might reassign him to hunt "priests" in another sector. But what they found at the warehouses completely upended all their plans.

"You're saying you don't know why this stuff is here?"

Captain Bincy, dressed in the uniform of a patrol officer, pointed his pistol at the scrawny watchman. Jenkins squatted by the warehouse wall, prying open a wooden crate with a dagger. The other Scribes carefully lifted out exquisite wooden boxes, each nestled in straw.

Jenkins took one of the boxes and slid open its lid. Inside, wrapped in straw paper, lay golden tobacco. He held it up to his eyes, confirming the presence of a very faint aura.

"It's definitely that tobacco," he said softly.

This was like setting out to hunt a wolf and stumbling upon a tiger.

The implications were enormous. The Perfume Appreciation Committee had been eradicated, yet there was still no way to cure those affected by the tobacco, no way to heal the parts of their souls that had been tainted. The Church had assumed that with the passage of time and the passing of that generation, the matter would finally be put to rest. They never expected these special tobaccos to still be in circulation.

Captain Bincy understood the gravity of Jenkins's words and shot the watchman an even more menacing glare. Under the massive gaslight above the warehouse door, the old, frail watchman's head shook so frantically it looked like it might fly off his neck.

"I'm just a watchman! How would I know why this stuff is here?"

He had a thick accent and spoke rapidly. If not for the fact that everyone present was a Nolan local, they would have had no idea what he was saying.

Jenkins studied him for a moment, while one of the Scribes, a Mr. Locke, found a letter inside the crate. Jenkins took it and scanned its contents.

"This letter says that when the boxes are handed over, the recipient is to give the final three-fifths of the payment to the watchman, as per their agreement."

"I'm just a watchman! How would I know why there's a letter here?" the man insisted, still shaking his head.

"Then what's that metal plate in your pocket?" Jenkins asked.

"I'm just a watchman! How would I know what's in my pocket... How do you know I have a talisman in my pocket?"

Captain Bincy decisively pulled the trigger. But when the bullet struck the watchman's head, it was as if it had hit a block of dense gelatin, and the ricochet nearly wounded the men guarding the crates.

The talisman in the watchman's pocket exploded. As Bincy was forced to retreat, the watchman, who appeared only lightly injured, leaped into the air, seemingly treading on the air itself as he bounded toward the warehouse roof. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novęlfire.net

"You were lucky this time. Next time..."

Jenkins hurled his cane like a javelin. It transformed into a streak of green light, pinning the watchman to the wall just above the warehouse entrance, only two steps from the rooftop. His defenses may have been impressive, but to Jenkins, he was still just a Level 4 Benefactor.