Chapter 235: Chapter 235

Since they were friends, and she had just helped him out, Jenkins invited Miss Miller into his home. At this late hour, he figured, no one would notice.

As for the crow, Miss Miller explained that magical creatures bound to humans by contract could only regain their freedom by avenging their master's death. That was precisely why the crow had come.

It was already the 18th Epoch, and non-human creatures of such intelligence were rare. Miss Miller offered to purchase the crow's carcass for her research. After a moment's thought, Jenkins agreed.

They discussed the matter in the living room, and Jenkins eventually accepted twelve pounds. He hadn't wanted to take any money, considering the crow wasn't really his property. But Miss Miller insisted, arguing that since it had died on his doorstep, it belonged to him. She added that their friendship shouldn't be strained by such a one-sided favor. If he refused payment, she declared, their friendship would be at an end.

She was, indeed, a woman driven mad by mathematics.

Jenkins pondered the thought, glancing over at his own cat. Chocolate paid him no mind, having already curled up into a small black-and-white ball on the softest part of the sofa, clearly ready for sleep.

Jenkins also managed to offload the coroner's gift—the piece of flesh cut from the corpse. Miss Miller, being both wealthy and generous, was familiar with the coroner's affairs. She had even attended the "performance" herself earlier the previous week.

She purchased the piece of flesh from Jenkins for one hundred and thirty pounds. However, since she didn't carry such a large sum of money with her, she arranged to pay him at their next meeting.

"Aren't you worried, not carrying all your money with you?" Jenkins asked immediately.

"While there have been some unpleasant incidents in Nolan City lately, the security is generally quite good," she replied. "Especially in a district . The police patrol every half hour at night to ensure the safety of its affluent residents. What is there to worry about?"

Miss Miller gave Jenkins an odd look, and he laughed awkwardly to hide his embarrassment.

Ever since arriving in this world, he'd been plagued by a sense of insecurity. Encountering a lethal Mysterious Object on his very first day of work had only made it worse. Carrying most of his wealth on his person was just one symptom of his anxiety.

Compared to Miss Miller, Jenkins's own eccentricities were far more pronounced.

He took the opportunity to ask Miss Miller for investment advice, but she was preparing to leave Nolan City in the coming days. Busy with her search for Mysterious Objects and packing her luggage, she had no useful suggestions to offer.

After preparing some strong tea, Jenkins and Miss Miller retreated to the rarely used study, where they discussed arithmetic and geometry until the early morning hours. The woman's mathematical aptitude was truly exceptional; she grasped concepts with astonishing speed. Had she not been an Enchanter, Jenkins was certain she would have left an indelible mark on the history of mathematics—and earned the eternal ire of students for generations to come.

She also brought news from Audrey, who had finished appraising the hemp rope acquired from the spy, Robinson. It was a Series B Extraordinary item, B-10-04-1212, the Hunter's Snare Rope, an object whose sheer uselessness was surpassed only by Mr. Hunt's Fruit Platter.

If the rope was hung from a tree branch, anyone walking directly beneath it would, at the exact moment they passed under, find themselves inexplicably snared by the ankle and hoisted upside down.

Not only was its use restricted to being hung from a tree, but while the rope itself was indestructible, breaking the branch or simply untying the knot was easy. More importantly, it was difficult to apply invisibility effects to Extraordinary items, meaning anyone paying the slightest bit of attention would spot the trap.

Perhaps it could be surprisingly effective under very specific circumstances, but to Jenkins, it was an utterly uninteresting object. Audrey was currently assessing its value and would determine how to distribute the proceeds later in the week. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novel{f}ire.net

Miss Miller was still on the trail of A-11-2-3301, the Malevolent Coachman. She mentioned that she had discovered the coachman's pattern of movement and planned to set out after him as soon as she finished her current commission.

As for her current case, the man infected with the [Gear Germs] had unfortunately been apprehended by the Orthodox Church before she could reach him. With that lead gone cold, she had decided to approach the investigation from a different angle.

Jenkins didn't feel it was his place to ask what that "different angle" might be.

It was past one in the morning by the time he saw Miss Miller out. Still in his slippers, Jenkins politely lit the gas lamp in the foyer to light her way. She lingered at the door, exchanging a few more pleasantries before finally preparing to depart.

"Mr. Williams, you truly are a proper gentleman."

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?"

"I mean, we've been talking so late into the night, and yet you haven't..."

She suddenly broke into a smile and shook her head gently. "It's so late; perhaps this isn't a suitable topic. Good night, Mr. Williams. May the principles of mathematics protect you."

"Good night, Miss Miller. May the light of the Sage illuminate the path before you."

After closing the door, Jenkins stood for a moment, still puzzling over what Miss Miller had been about to say. He stared blankly into the living room before finally reaching out to turn off the foyer lamp.

"Oh," he realized. "Perhaps I shouldn't be spending time alone with an unmarried woman so late at night. Hathaway once mentioned that in this mad and shameless age, such a thing is tantamount to carrying on an illicit affair."

He nodded to himself, certain he had grasped her meaning.

"If that's the case," he thought, "then Miss Miller was complimenting me for spending the night alone with a lady and having no improper intentions beyond our discussion of mathematics!"

He continued mulling it over as he gathered the stacks of scratch paper and books from the table. While he was woefully inexperienced in his dealings with women, he wasn't entirely without common sense. He had low emotional intelligence, after all, but he wasn't an idiot.

A faint smile touched Jenkins's lips at the thought.

"I have at least that much self-control," he mused. "Even in this rather mad era, I refuse to be corrupted by it. The glow of the Steam Age casts some very ugly shadows, but I have never sought to dwell in them."

He glanced up at the red and blue twin moons hanging in the sky, then at the reflection of his own young face in the bedroom mirror. Scooping up the soft, warm body of his cat, Jenkins headed for bed.

In the moonlight, the Godhead Metal Block reflected an otherworldly glow.