Chapter 194: Chapter 194

As he watched the red-haired girl meticulously explain all the necessary precautions, a faint smile graced Jenkins's lips. He had reliable friends now.

"What are you smiling at? Don't tell me you've fallen for me. I should warn you, my love for Briny is unwavering. Meddling in another's relationship is not something a proper gentleman would do."

She asked suspiciously, her face flushing as she fiddled with the hem of her dress.

"You've misunderstood... I happen to know a few things about A-08-1-9990 myself. Allow me to share."

Just as Miss Mikhail and her friends approached, Hathaway was in the middle of a discussion about music with Jenkins. Or rather, Jenkins was listening to her explain the major musical movements of the era. The young woman was a follower of the pseudo-god known as the Wondrous Score, and she was exceptionally well-versed in music theory.

Jenkins, however, understood none of it. The only instrument he could play was the harmonica, and even then, he could only manage a single, halting tune. So he simply stood there, nodding along and listening patiently, despite his growing boredom.

"We're friends, after all!"

That was his reasoning.

A hint of a smile played at the corners of the red-haired girl's lips.

The elegantly dressed young women were quite taken with Jenkins. They were, after all, the guests Miss Mikhail had originally intended to invite. Jenkins, however, felt it was rather impolite to be sitting among a flock of ladies, especially as some of the gentlemen nearby were already shooting him peculiar looks.

Yet, every time he tried to make an excuse to leave, either Miss Mikhail or Hathaway would cleverly steer the conversation to a new topic, leaving him no opportunity to interject. He had no choice but to endure the agonizingly slow passage of time, surrounded by the young women and the cloying scent of their perfumes, all the while thinking of his cat, alone at home.

When the party finally, mercifully, came to an end, several of the young women invited Jenkins to continue their conversations about literature. But he had important business to attend to that evening, so he scratched his head and awkwardly but politely turned them down.

Hathaway arched an eyebrow, the strange feeling in her chest intensifying. She tried to dismiss it as simple annoyance at Jenkins's obliviousness, but then a far more alarming possibility dawned on her.

She gave her head a sharp shake, trying to banish the dreadful thought, and touched her warming cheeks. For reasons she couldn't explain, she stole a quick glance at her beloved Briny before tugging on Jenkins's sleeve. Jenkins caught her meaning and nodded.

On the pretext of having forgotten something, he turned back toward the banquet hall. He encountered the Duke and Miss Windsor at the entrance and gave them a polite nod.

The stern-looking woman watched Jenkins's retreating figure and asked quietly.

The Duke nodded, his expression inscrutable.

"He certainly looks young..."

When he emerged from the banquet hall a second time, he found Hathaway waiting for him in the woods beside the hospital, just as he'd expected.

"Have you heard? A rumor is spreading through the black market that someone is auctioning off a Bestowal next Friday at midnight!"

Jenkins asked doubtfully. "Are you sure? That sounds impossible. I heard the black market has been quiet lately. Who's spreading this information?" Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on NoveI(F)ire.net

Heeding Papa Oliver's advice, he had stayed away from the black market all week, only visiting the associated bar once to retrieve a letter.

"I don't know the source, but the rumor is real. A lot of people are already planning to go. You can get the location from any of the middlemen. Want to come with me?"

she asked in a low voice.

"A Bestowal? I'm still skeptical... Tell you what, I'll give you an answer by Wednesday. I want to look into this first. Isn't Miss Mikhail meeting with Papa Oliver on Wednesday to have something appraised? I'll let you know then."

"Getting so cautious now?"

The girl laughed. "That's a good thing. Once this is all over, I'll introduce you to an Enchanter gathering. It's not one of those trading meetups—it's something much more useful."

With that, she handed Jenkins a small pouch. He took it, puzzled, and opened it to find several talismans inside: a familiar-looking explosive charm, a silencing charm, and one of Hathaway's unique creations—an "Elegant Lady's Makeup Charm."

"Nolan City has been chaotic lately. Take these for your own protection. And don't you dare refuse. Your friend saved Briny's life, and I still haven't properly thanked you for that..."

Gazing at the smiling young woman in her dress, standing in the shadows of the trees, Jenkins suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

When he returned to his carriage, the driver was visibly impatient. Jenkins apologized profusely and promised him a larger tip.

He didn't have the driver take him straight home. Instead, he asked to be let out on the Joël Bridge, which spanned the Westminster River, wanting to take a moment to breathe in the cool night air.

As he was strolling toward the Central Plaza, leaning on his cane, a frantic flapping sound echoed from the sky above.

Jenkins lifted his gaze. Beneath the churning, dark clouds, a strange, jet-black crow sliced through the sky. It spread its wings wide, circling the clock tower at the far end of the plaza before beginning a slow, flapping descent. As it landed, a single black feather detached and drifted down on the breeze.

Jenkins paused at the edge of the plaza, extending a hand to catch the black feather as it floated down. Looking forward, he saw a man in a dark coat and hat standing at the base of the clock tower. The man held out his right arm, and the crow, with its pair of blood-red eyes, settled onto his shoulder.

"Mr. Williams, how is it you're not dead?"

His voice was raspy and unsettling, and his eyes, just like the crow's, glowed with a crimson light.

"The color of the light has changed, and there's a new blue one," Jenkins thought. "How interesting." Outwardly, he remained calm. "Mr. Dimon Beryl? I didn't realize you also enjoyed late-night strolls."

"Impossible... The device isn't reacting. You're not supposed to be an Enchanter, so why is this happening?"

His voice growing even more raspy, the man pulled a pendant from inside his coat. It was a miniature, grotesque carving of a horned demon. The moment it was exposed to the air, the heavy stench of sulfur began to permeate the night around the plaza.

The point of light representing his [Twin Demons] ability pulsed again, and Jenkins was suddenly seized by a violent urge to snap Beryl's neck.

"You see? No reaction, right?"

He aimed the horned demon pendant directly at Jenkins, but nothing happened.