Chapter 289: Chapter 289
It was a common wooden Ouija board, likely artificially aged with a few small, worm-eaten-like holes drilled into its edges. But Papa Oliver was a master forger, so Jenkins could tell at a glance that it was, at best, a new item from a decade ago.
The board itself was square, but its sharp corners had been rounded, giving it a softer shape. Viewed from the correct angle, the top-left corner was engraved with a bizarrely stylized smiling face, while the top-right featured an unsettling crying face. The style resembled the doodles of a young child, but that was precisely what made it all the more terrifying.
The person who designed this board was exceptionally skilled. Despite being simple line drawings, they created the illusion that the two faces were real.
The upper half of the board featured the 26 letters of the modern alphabet arranged in an arc. Below them were the words "Yes" and "No." Further down, the numbers 0 through 9 were written in a horizontal line, and at the very bottom was the word "Goodbye." It was meant to be used with a small, teardrop-shaped planchette inlaid with a clear glass lens, which could be used to answer simple questions.
Between the letters on top and the numbers below, a cluster of towering tombstones was carved, stained black and white with dye. A long row of fabricated names was engraved on the tombstones. At the very bottom, an unusually ornate script spelled out a phrase: "Never lose your awe, nor your fear."
Five small, artificially made holes were asymmetrically placed on the left and right sides of the board, designed for inlaying small statuettes. The board was framed with a copper border, and the metal was etched with incomprehensible inscriptions.
In truth, a Ouija board didn't need statuettes. Jenkins guessed this was just a gimmick to attract female customers and justify a higher price.
"Is this a Ouija board? It’s the first time I’ve ever seen one."
He curiously ran his fingers over the board’s surface, trying to identify the specific type of wood, while Papa Oliver continued to explain:
"So, is it always safe for ordinary people to use one?"
"Of course not. If the user tries to replicate rituals from strange books, or if there’s a powerful, malevolent spirit nearby that has a connection to it, they might invite some serious trouble. The probability is extremely low, of course. There’s no need to worry about it. Nowhere in this world is completely safe. After all, you could run into a deadly Mysterious Object just walking down the street."
Jenkins nodded emphatically. He was all too familiar with running into strange things on the street. The most update n0vels are published on novel·fire·net
In this dull era with so few forms of entertainment, idle noble ladies, when not dallying with their lovers, had a particular fondness for the thrilling and terrifying world of the occult. Things like divination and spiritualism. Although the few noblewomen Jenkins knew weren't particularly interested, he knew that girls born into high society were often quite bold when it came to trying such devices.
"...Which is to say, the young masters and misses of today are far too bold. When I was your age, if anyone was found with items related to illegal witchcraft in their home, the religious inquisition could convict them on the spot. The punishment was usually just whipping and a fine, but back then, that was considered a very severe penalty..."
Papa Oliver was still rambling on about related matters, while Jenkins idly stroked Chocolate, who was curled up asleep, and complained silently to himself:
"A religious inquisition? What era was that? Just how old is Papa Oliver, anyway?"
It was a question no one could answer. Even when he asked Bishop Parrold at the church that evening during his night class, the man just smiled without a word. Captain Bincy had been busy with work lately and wasn't at the church, and the man at the Office of Special Items Management didn't give him a straight answer either. But the Keeper of Secrets hinted that Papa Oliver's age was normal and there was no need for suspicion.
"What are you thinking about?"
In the quiet of the night, Jenkins and Miss Miller rode back together in a carriage. Before she departed on her journey, she was eager to discuss the contents of 'A Brief Introduction to Higher Mathematics' with him as much as possible.
Jenkins shook his head, pushing the question of Papa Oliver’s age to the back of his mind.
"It’s nothing particularly important. I just paid someone to repair something, but it’s been three days and I haven’t heard back yet."
"I think you’re being too impatient. Perhaps you should offer a few more gold pounds. The motivation and craftsmanship of artisans are always tied to such things."
Jenkins gave a wry smile, reminded of his own empty wallet. Perhaps understanding the meaning behind his smile, Miss Miller narrowed her eyes and asked:
"What’s this? The great author is worried about finances?"
If he hadn’t been planning a permanent solution for the Aediran incident, Jenkins would have had at least 300 pounds of disposable cash on hand. It was a considerable sum, but in order to break the vicious cycle of sending a letter, worrying, receiving a reply, and worrying again, he was now on the verge of bankruptcy.
"While I don’t have any urgent expenses right now, even a single man needs some savings to get by. The pay from the Church is good, but who would say no to more gold pounds? Besides, we are..."
Miss Miller nodded. As an Enchanter, she understood all too well that their kind had countless expenses.
Speaking of which, Jenkins smiled sheepishly and asked,
"You know, I’ve recently started learning how to brew potions. I only have the formula for a basic one called 'Witch's Kiss'... Are you interested?"
To Jenkins’s surprise, as soon as he asked the question, Miss Miller suddenly covered her mouth and burst out laughing:
"Witch’s Kiss? Mr. Williams, do you truly know what that potion does?"
"...Doesn’t it enhance a woman’s charm?"
The carriage stopped at the corner of St. George Avenue. Since it was a Church carriage, there was no fare to pay. But as was customary, Jenkins still gave the driver five pence as a tip for the night’s work.
They didn’t continue their conversation on the street; the night was simply too cold. Jenkins first tucked the cat into his coat, then rubbed his hands together as he prepared to open the gate. Meanwhile, Miss Miller squinted at his neighbor's house—the home of the widow, Mrs. Margaret.
Her eyes filled with doubt, but in the end, she just shook her head, attributing the fleeting sensation to a trick of the mind.
"So, what exactly does Witch’s Kiss do?"
The two of them entered the house. Jenkins casually turned the knob on the gas lamp on the wall, and a flame flickered to life from its copper base. Then, with a flick of his wrist, a cluster of flames shot from his sleeve and landed in the fireplace. With a whoosh, the fire in the hearth began to dance.