Chapter 1874: Chapter 1874

Perched on Jenkins’s shoulder, Chocolate craned his neck to peer at the box on the pulpit. The room was bathed in the soft glow of candles. A ring of figures in white priest robes and clerical collars stood behind the man and his cat, while even more people sat on the pews below, as if gathered to hear Jenkins deliver a sermon.

The silence was profound. None of the gas lamps were lit; only the candles on the crystal chandelier and those lining the aisles flickered, casting a sacred, solemn light over the scene.

Papa Oliver sat in the second row, offering Jenkins an encouraging smile, as though his apprentice were about to undertake a task of immense difficulty.

Jenkins reached out, his hands closing around the lid. With a gentle pull, the box opened. Though he didn’t look up at the assembly before him or the figures behind, he knew everyone in the room was holding their breath.

He slowly lifted the lid, set it aside, and then, along with the cat clinging to his shoulder, leaned forward to look inside. He held the pose for a good ten seconds or more, and even the cat remained perfectly still, mirroring its owner. Get full chapters from novel[f]ire.net

But the onlookers dared not disturb him, not even with a whispered question.

At last, Jenkins moved. Rising onto his tiptoes, he reached almost his entire arm into the deep box. When he finally withdrew his hand, he was holding a black coat.

The crowd watched with eager anticipation as Jenkins, his expression serene, unfolded the garment. It was a black, long-sleeved men’s outer coat with a buttoned front, and more buttons at the cuffs and hem. It had two pockets at the waist and one on the left breast. The collar wasn’t particularly long, but it was high enough to be turned up against the harsh cold of autumn and winter.

It looked to be a fine coat. Most notably, its style and size were identical to the one Jenkins was already wearing.

It was eleven o’clock at night at the Williams residence on St. George Street. A weary Jenkins stood before his wardrobe, carefully hanging up his clothes. After the Church members had confirmed the coat was a Bestowal from the Sage, none of them had expressed any surprise that its style was identical to his own; they all seemed to consider it a matter of course.

“This coat is a Bestowal... Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about what I went through tonight? I nearly got trapped in a time loop.”

He stressed the point, but the red-haired young woman sitting on the edge of his bed, swinging her legs, didn’t seem the least bit surprised.

“Oh, a *time loop*,” she drawled. “Ooh, a *Bestowal*.”

She repeated his words in an infuriatingly casual tone.

“Yes, a time loop. A very dangerous Cursed Item appeared, but I dealt with it. As for this coat, it’s self-cleaning, fire- and moisture-proof, and has built-in temperature control.”

As he spoke, Jenkins closed the wardrobe. Clad only in his shirt, he gestured to himself, and the black outer coat materialized over his clothes before vanishing again at his command.

“So, it also saves you the trouble of getting dressed?”

Jenkins nodded and pulled out the chair at his desk. He leaned over to turn up the gas lamp before sitting down. The cat immediately leaped from the bed, trotted a few steps, and hopped onto the desk.

Jenkins sat with his back to Hathaway, who heard the distinct sound of him uncapping his fountain pen.

“On top of all that, I have to write at least three reports, one of which has to be a fabrication to mislead the other churches. Oh, are you sure you don’t want to hear about what I did tonight? I saved three innocent souls who had been trapped for tens of thousands of years.”

He spoke while filling his pen, drawing ink from the bottle. On the bed, Hathaway nodded, her toes playing with her slippers as her right hand tapped unconsciously against the mattress.

“It was an incredibly dangerous night, you know. I was lucky to get through it, and I had some trustworthy friends to help. And it wasn’t just about a rescue, either. There was another objective. The Church and Papa Oliver told me to keep it quiet, but I don’t see any harm in telling you... as soon as I’m done with these reports.”

He screwed the barrel of the fountain pen back onto the ink sac, twisting it tight. Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and he called for Julia to enter. She was dressed in her pajamas and carried a tray bearing a teapot, cups, and a few small pastries—mostly for Chocolate. Jenkins was a disciplined man; even if a few extra sweets wouldn’t make him gain weight, he avoided eating them so late at night.

“Thank you, Julia. You should get some rest.”

Jenkins said to the maid. After setting everything down, Julia picked up the empty tray and gave him a smile. Her eyes then drifted to Hathaway, sitting on the edge of the bed. She shot the red-haired woman a quick wink before turning back to Jenkins.

“You should get some rest soon, too. I hear you had quite an exhausting night.”

“Yes, yes, it was completely unexpected. Who could have imagined something like that would happen? But it was well worth it.”

He grinned, glancing at the silver bracelet on his right wrist before lowering his head and resuming his furious writing. Though he now possessed the [Psychography] ability, Jenkins still preferred to write by hand. He believed reports written this way had an air of authenticity—a useful illusion, considering only he knew how fabricated his words were about to be.

Seeing that Jenkins had paid her no mind, Julia could only offer Hathaway a look of mock regret. Covering her mouth with her hand, she let out a soft chuckle and slipped out of the room.

Hathaway watched his back with an air of boredom, observing how he wrote with his right hand while his left hand continuously pushed Chocolate away from the paper.

“Are you planning to write reports all night?”

“Of course not. You’re waiting for me. I’ll just jot down a quick outline and be done in a few minutes.”

At his words, a pleased expression lit up Hathaway’s face.

“Then you can tell me what happened tonight, after you got that useless coat from the Sage’s Church...”

“Oh, don’t say that.”

In a world where true gods existed, one had to be careful with their words. Jenkins hadn’t yet mentioned the element of divinity involved, so Hathaway didn’t know the coat was a personal gift from the Sage.

Of course, she wasn’t entirely wrong to call the coat useless. Jenkins himself had yet to discover any extraordinary properties beyond the practical ones he’d mentioned. But it had been acquired through a sacrifice of divinity, and with the end of the epoch looming, the Sage would never bestow a mysterious item upon his Saint without a profound reason.

Both the Church and Jenkins were convinced the coat held a deeper significance that they had yet to grasp. Now that it was in his possession, its true purpose would surely reveal itself one day.

“So what really happened tonight? I was here with Briny and Julia, and we didn’t see anything unusual in the sky.”

“Not everything that happens leaves a mark on the sky.”

Jenkins capped his pen and set it on the desk with a crisp snap. He stretched, then contentedly turned down the gas lamp. He slipped out of the room to the washroom, and after brushing his teeth and washing his face, he quickly returned. He switched off the light, finally bringing the long day to a close.

Of course, as he settled in and held Hathaway close, he didn’t forget to whisper the tale of his night’s adventures into her ear. Nor did he forget to toss Chocolate, who had managed to sneak under the covers at some point, back to his own side of the bed.