Chapter 2186: Chapter 2186

Even though Jenkins was certain he'd guessed the truth, he didn't voice his conclusion. The reason was simple: he couldn't figure out which Savior's Emblem this Mysterious Realm corresponded to.

After the first seven layers, only two of his earliest abilities, [The Unknown Path] and [World Tree Seedling], remained unassigned. Yet this realm seemed to have nothing to do with destiny, and its industrial, steel-themed backdrop was the very antithesis of the World Tree's life-giving nature.

This meant he was missing something crucial, which in turn meant there was an undiscovered trap. Therefore, he couldn't risk rashly revealing his suspicions to that metal head.

But since he was fairly certain the descended "unspeakable thing" was the Difference Engine, the problematic individual who had snuck aboard must have had a part of their body converted to metal. To deceive the ship's judgment, the conversion ratio would be small, allowing them to retain their fear and go undetected by Jenkins's [Aura of Fear].

If the Difference Engine could make its metal tentacles feel like flesh, it could certainly make a metallic body visually indistinguishable from a normal one.

Using [Principle of All Machines] to scan everyone on deck would undoubtedly expose those with abnormal bodies. But that ability had greater uses, and he couldn't afford to expend it so frivolously.

Fortunately, Chocolate was right by his side. Even if Jenkins himself couldn't sense the Difference Engine's creations, the cat's keen sense of smell could surely pick out anyone with the scent of metal.

"You can smell them, can't you?"

He turned to ask his cat, who immediately nodded rapidly, its eyes fixed on Jenkins.

He had to admit, the Difference Engine had gone to great lengths to conceal its transformed agents. Jenkins couldn't sense its creations in the vicinity, and even Chocolate's nearly infallible nose didn't immediately find the target.

But after a minute, it did.

A paw shot out, pointing to a man on the female boatswain's left, about ten people down the line. His clothes were clean—a black greatcoat over a brown vest, and black trousers with patches. He was barefoot, his feet stretched out in front of him. Jenkins recalled carefully stepping around him earlier, worried he might accidentally tread on the man.

The man had been looking down, but perhaps sensing Jenkins's gaze, he raised his head. The moment their eyes met, he knew he had been discovered.

Without a moment's hesitation, he leaped to his feet, intending to jump overboard. But the sword in Jenkins's hand was faster, piercing through the man's chest and pinning him to the deck.

The curse of the Star-Forged Magic Sword swiftly began to corrode the man's flesh. Around the point of entry in his chest, interwoven specks of black and silver began to appear. This was the outward manifestation of the spreading curse; originating from a "star stone," its form was naturally related to the cosmos.

The man began to wail uncontrollably, his cries shattering the quiet on deck. The people around him instinctively shuffled aside, creating a small clearing to avoid getting caught in any potential crossfire.

"So you're the traitor?"

Jenkins asked. The black and silver flecks had already spread almost to the man's neck. His wails faded, replaced by a guttural rasping, as if he were choking on thick, yellow-green phlegm and couldn't catch his breath.

"You... you exposed me so openly," the man choked out. "Aren't you worried my comrades will escape?"

The man was trying to buy time, but Jenkins answered his question as if he hadn't noticed.

"Don't be a fool," Jenkins replied. "Before I began interacting with people, could anyone on this ship move or speak of their own accord?"

It was a measure to prevent any of the refugees who genuinely wanted to help from simply telling him the solution to the Mysterious Realm. Until the restriction was lifted, no one could make a significant move.

"Spare me! I have information you want. I know more than you think, and I swear I won't lie."

"I'm not worried about you lying," Jenkins said.

He twisted the hilt slightly. With his heightened senses, he could perfectly envision the blade grating against flesh and bone.

"So, will you let me go?"

"Of course not," Jenkins stated flatly. "There's no reason I should spare a traitor to humanity."

Upon hearing Jenkins's answer, the man's agonized, ferocious expression grew even more terrifying. He suddenly reached up and pressed a spot over his heart. Both Jenkins and the cat heard a distinct "click."

Brass-colored patterns began to spread from his heart, branching out under his skin. The pathways they followed were unmistakably those of his arteries and veins. These brass markings easily overpowered the black and silver traces of the magic sword's curse, making it look as though his body were bound by dozens of slender, brass-colored chains.

"A clever idea," Jenkins remarked. "A manually triggered mechanism inside your chest. I'm curious, though—if someone were to strike your chest with great force, would that also trigger this?"

"Savior, you're far too confident!" the man snarled. "Did you really think I had no strength to fight back?"

He threw a punch at Jenkins, who released the sword's hilt and took a nimble step back. The brass had now spread through most of the man's blood vessels. His hand, now gleaming with a metallic luster, seized the magic sword embedded in his chest and wrenched it free.

The man took a fighting stance, holding the sword.

Indeed, the Star-Forged Magic Sword was a B-class Extraordinary item; anyone who held it could use it. This set it apart from C-class Bestowals like the [White Bone Holy Sword].

Jenkins shook his head.

"I am confident, it's true," he said, "but my confidence is well-founded."

He swept the [Sin's Eternal Flame Greatsword] before him, and the dim flames wreathing the blade instantly blazed to life, drawing a brilliant curtain of fire in the air.

The time for words was over. The man performed a standard sword flourish and charged at Jenkins like a knight from a bygone age. He swung the blade in a wide, horizontal arc, expecting Jenkins to block with the greatsword. To his shock, Jenkins simply reached out with his left hand and caught the blade mid-swing. His hand didn't even bleed; the razor-sharp edge merely broke the skin.

"I'm not the same as I used to be," Jenkins remarked.

He could now defeat an ancient Balrog in single combat. The World Tree, nurtured by his [Four Seasons] ability, was no longer so fragile.

One held the hilt, the other the blade. After a brief struggle, Jenkins used his grip to spin the sword a full rotation. The man refused to let go, and his wrist was twisted around with it.

His hand was still made of flesh and bone, and the sound that followed was the sickening crack of a normal fracture.

"What in the world did that thing promise you," Jenkins asked, "to make you serve it so loyally?"

"Freedom," the man gasped. "The freedom to live in the real world."

Jenkins asked no more questions. He brought the greatsword in his right hand crashing down. The blade struck the man's head with tremendous force. A transparent shield flickered into existence for a moment before shattering like glass. With a dull thud, the flaming sword smashed the man into the deck. The planks then seemed to come alive, swallowing the corpse and mending the crater Jenkins had made, but spitting the metal parts back out.

It was an exquisitely crafted brass heart, so detailed it could have been a metal anatomical model. Jenkins reached out to inspect it, but before his fingers could make contact, the heart disintegrated into a meaningless pile of tiny gears. The sight was strangely reminiscent of the effects of his [Mechanical Light] ability.

"So cautious..." Jenkins murmured.

That was the first target dealt with. Instead of having Chocolate point out the others, Jenkins returned to the female boatswain.

"The light from the deck is fading," he said. "Is there any way to disperse the fog around us?"

In truth, the deck's glow was still quite strong, but Jenkins preferred to be proactive rather than wait until the situation became desperate.

"The figurehead can emit a light that will do a better job of dispelling the fog, but its power is exhausted. You'll need to reawaken it."

"And how do I do that?"

"Three gallons of water—about 13.6 liters," she replied. "Pour it directly onto the figurehead. You can use more, but no less."

Jenkins waited, expecting her to list other ingredients, but the woman fell silent.

"Just three gallons of water? That's it? Wait... I can't use water from the river, can I? It must be contaminated."

"No, the river water will do just fine." Google seaʀᴄh ⓝovelFire.net

Jenkins raised an eyebrow.

"The difficulty lies in fetching it."

"Aren't there empty buckets right here?"

But the woman merely smiled and gestured for him to try for himself.

There were indeed empty wooden buckets on the deck, containing a pair of damp, tied-up rags. Jenkins fastened a fishing line to one of the buckets and tossed it over the side of the ship.

The bucket had barely left the ship when a metal tentacle shot up from beneath the water's surface, wrapped around it, and began to pull it down. Jenkins, of course, refused to let go. Caught between the two opposing forces, the bucket splintered, and he was left reeling in a quarter of its wooden remains.

"So that's it," Jenkins realized. "Any non-metallic object that extends past the ship's hull gets attacked."

Although there were only wooden buckets on deck, the ship was littered with enough metal parts for him to fashion a small pail of his own. There was no need to waste an ability like [Summon Wind and Rain]. He was quite confident in his handiwork.