Chapter 296: Chapter 296

Mr. Stuart's roars continued for some time. It was only during a pause, when he was seized by a fit of coughing from the strain on his throat, that the middle-aged gentleman resumed explaining his "findings" from the newspaper.

Jenkins remained huddled in place, and one of Chocolate's furry ears peeked out from the gap between the buttons of his coat.

"To confirm my suspicions, I went to check your residence right after learning your address. It was quite clear that the only signs of life were your own. Troubled by a few lingering questions, I found your basement, and there..."

Jenkins held his breath. He now understood just how terrifying the cursed eye truly was.

"Did you find the bodies of my wife and daughter?"

The question came from Mr. Stuart. His voice betrayed his disbelief, yet the facts presented in the newspaper by the middle-aged gentleman must have forced him to accept the truth.

"No. It's far worse than that."

The gentleman's tone was laced with pity. "I discovered a monster bound in alloy chains. Even my organization wouldn't create such a thing—it's simply too hideous, and utterly mindless. In truth, most Enchanters—yes, people like us—can perform rituals to create something of that nature. A stitched abomination, forcibly fusing the corpses of different creatures to grant it regenerative abilities and strength far beyond the ordinary."

"Then... what about my..."

The middle-aged gentleman didn't answer Mr. Stuart directly. Instead, he began to speak of something else.

"In truth, due to the numerous terrible events that have plagued this city over the past six months, there has been a sharp rise in disappearances. Neither the police nor the Church can account for them all. Among those, several dozen minor cases were likely your handiwork. And yes, the stitched abomination in your basement does include the remains of the woman and child you believed to be your wife and daughter. But I must remind you..."

A deliberately cruel pause hung in the air, torturing both the victim and the eavesdropper.

"You married that poor widow and her child after you acquired the cursed eye. According to the records I checked at city hall, around the time the mother and daughter disappeared, she had never registered a marriage. Which means... even that blissful marriage of yours was..."

He left the final words unsaid, but both Jenkins and Mr. Stuart understood.

"Let's review what happened here. A young Mr. Stuart, after an accident, came into possession of an eye with marvelous powers. He believed it allowed him to see the future and used it to pave his way to success. But in reality, everything he saw through that eye was a lie. He murdered his own benefactor, committed a string of murders and robberies across the city, and even managed to drag me into his mess. Heh... it took considerable effort to kill that monster you created just now. If Nolan City hadn't been overwhelmed with incidents these past six months, the Orthodox Church would have found you long ago. But now, your luck has finally run out..."

"What exactly is that eye?"

"A-03-02-4491, the Vengeful Eye of the Suicider. It is saturated with the resentment of one who took their own life—a deep-seated hatred for the living. Whoever possesses it will have their soul slowly corroded by the eye, their desires twisting until they destroy everything they hold dear. And at the very end, it will force its master to see the absolute truth, only to guide them to their own suicide. I suspect the reason I cannot take it from you is because the eye still desires your soul... and your hatred."

"Is that... how it is..."

Only Mr. Stuart's whisper remained, carried on the wind.

The reality of the situation was close to what Jenkins had initially suspected. Though some details differed, the core of it was the same. He couldn't bring himself to pass judgment, for it seemed that everyone involved was a victim. Even the middle-aged gentleman from the heretical cult had, thus far, caused no harm and gained nothing from the affair.

All the blame could be laid at the feet of the Cursed Item, yet it was merely an inanimate object—a dead thing that could do no harm unless someone chose to use it. Fınd the newest release on novel~fire~net

"Now, please tell me where you got that eye."

After a brief silence, the conversation resumed, but Jenkins had no desire to hear any more. He drew two deep breaths, his black robe shifting to alter his silhouette. Gripping his cane and pistol tightly, he knew Stuart's end could only be suicide. And that moment would be his opportunity.

"I bought it. It was originally part of a decorative wooden sculpture. The sculpture fell and broke, and the eyeball dropped out. The shop that sold it is a souvenir shop on Sandy Alley. It's the only one there, and they also deal in stolen goods."

"Very good. Thank you for your cooperation," the gentleman said. "Then, if you would."

It was a listless reply. Even if Stuart didn't die today, he was already a dead man walking.

Opening his Eye of Reality, Jenkins looked up. He saw the owner of the black, cursed eye walk step by step toward the edge of the roof, the other Enchanter following close behind.

"Did you really send flowers to the Dedran family?"

"Yes. There's no need for me to lie to you. It would be pointless."

The reply was filled with pity.

Mr. Stuart's figure drew closer and closer to the building's edge. Without a moment's hesitation, he plummeted from view.

Jenkins held his breath, forcing himself to ignore the sickening thud of the impact below. He watched as the point of light representing the Enchanter also moved toward the edge.

The instant the middle-aged man leaned over to look down, Jenkins ducked out from his cover and fired.

"Damn it! Off target!"

The middle-aged gentleman instantly snapped his head back. His hat, pierced by the bullet, fluttered down in the wind. The point of light immediately began moving toward the other side of the building. Now that he'd fired, there was no turning back. When Jenkins charged onto the rooftop, the man from the Cursed Eye Association was standing on the far side, as if waiting for him.

"We have no grievance or grudge between us. Don't you think opening fire on me is a bit much?"

The man didn't seem the least bit nervous, which made Jenkins wonder if he had somehow given away his true power level.

"You're a cultist. Throwing a steam bomb at you wouldn't be going too far."

Shooting again was out of the question; this pistol wasn't accurate at such a distance. Blasphemous Creation had its range limitations, and Knowledge Bestowal required preparation. His only option was to close the distance while they talked, all the while staying on guard for an attack.