Chapter 374: Chapter 374

In the November chill of Nolan City, residents had to bundle up in their winter coats even in the afternoon. The air was as dreadful as ever, and the gloomy sky and thick fog cast a lifeless pall over the city.

At a street corner, Jenkins stepped aside for a boy dashing past with a stack of newspapers and was suddenly reminded of a problem. The Williams family had no relatives in the area, and Robert had never taken him to a funeral. As a result, he was completely ignorant of proper funeral etiquette.

"I can't afford to be disrespectful at the funeral, especially after all Mr. Pisco has done for me. It looks like I can't go home just yet."

He turned away from the direction of St. George Avenue. Since Hathaway's residence was quite a distance, he hired a carriage at the corner of the street.

But not every visit yields results. The maid at the house informed him that the red-haired lady had not been there all day.

With a sigh of regret, he had no choice but to head home first.

Sometimes, Jenkins truly wished he could lock himself away for a hundred years in a house filled with books and materials, never stepping outside, and dedicate every waking moment to enhancing his abilities.

It wasn't that he hated social events or was reclusive; he simply felt these things were an utter waste of time compared to his ultimate goals.

He was a man of unwavering purpose. For the sake of a grander dream, his gaze was always fixed on the distant horizon—though, of course, he would occasionally glance down at his cat.

Regardless, life had to go on. The various inconveniences of winter occasionally made Jenkins nostalgic for the past. Just to maintain a minimum standard for meals, his spending on food had increased.

To fatten his wallet a bit, Jenkins needed to brew more "Witch's Kiss" potions before the next trading day arrived.

He had modified his basement, intermittently using his Creation Pencil to conjure a metal wall, partitioning off a small room to serve as a laboratory for potion brewing.

After the Reading Festival, Old Jack had also sent a letter, circuitously asking if Jenkins had tried the potion recipe from his previous correspondence.

Jenkins had answered truthfully but had politely declined the invitation to become his apprentice and move to Shire City.

The laboratory was spartan, furnished only with a clean workbench made of metal sheets and an assortment of glassware. In a corner stood a flowerpot containing a seedling of the Fantasy Flower, which had absorbed a vast amount of life spirit.

Jenkins had no idea how to induce its next stage of growth and didn't dare place it on a windowsill, so for now, it remained in the basement.

It was a freebie anyway, so he wouldn't be too heartbroken if it withered from lack of sunlight.

The only other decoration was an enamel doll, a replica of A-01-2-0198, which he had purchased from the replica shop. Three rows of long iron nails had been driven into the wall, supporting simple shelves. The exquisitely painted enamel doll rested on the highest one.

Jenkins had hoped that seeing it frequently would help him overcome his fear and discomfort regarding the Young Flower Seller. But he later discovered that he was utterly unable to associate the doll with the actual girl.

For some reason, this brewing session produced no failures. The life spirit stabilized the fusion of ingredients to an astonishing degree.

"Could it be that improving my soul abilities also helps with brewing potions?"

He murmured to himself while Chocolate lounged on a chair behind him, idly batting at a nearby flower with its paw.

When Jenkins was focused on his work, he usually kept the cat nearby. And as long as Chocolate wasn't entertaining any strange ideas, it wouldn't disturb him.

Suddenly, its ears twitched. The cat looked up quizzically, its whiskers trembling on its furry cheeks. A moment later, it lowered its head again and let out a soft sound directed at Jenkins:

"What is it? Are you hungry?"

The man turned his head, continuing to stir the liquid in his hand as he asked.

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Chocolate stood up and extended a front paw, waving it a few times toward the ceiling.

"Oh, we have a visitor!"

The visitor was Hathaway Hersha. She had finished dinner with her family and returned to her riverside residence to pick up some clothes, only to be told by her servants that Jenkins had stopped by that afternoon.

"Please, have a seat."

He sealed the basement laboratory and cleared away a large pile of clutter in front of the living room fireplace before inviting the lady inside. She showed no impatience, handing her coat and hat to Jenkins upon entering and quietly seating herself on the sofa, her eyes taking in the room.

After a brief flurry of activity in the kitchen, he returned to the living room with a tray bearing a teapot and a porcelain tea set. Her reflection in the windowpane looked almost ethereal.

Hathaway had likely come alone; Jenkins hadn't seen a carriage or any servants from the window.

"I'm sorry to trouble you, coming all this way."

"It's no trouble. St. George Avenue isn't that far."

She surveyed Jenkins's living room, her gaze lingering for a moment on a lady's pocket watch resting on the coffee table. The rose-petal design and delicate frame were clearly not intended for a man.

"Even if you're trying to save money, surely you don't need to use a lady's watch?"

She didn't, however, suspect it was a gift to Jenkins from another woman.

"My watch will be repaired soon. This is just a substitute."

Explaining the watch's origin would inevitably lead to the matter of the eternal 31st. Jenkins saw no need to overcomplicate things, even though he had no immediate plans to get his pocket watch fixed.

He sat down after pouring the tea and rubbed his nose.

"I came looking for you this afternoon for a reason. Oh, that's right. I went out with Miss Mikhail last night, just the two of us. She invited me to a party."

As he said this, he looked up to gauge the lady's expression. She nodded in surprise and arched an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue.

Though a few unpleasant thoughts flickered through her mind, they vanished the moment she remembered who the man sitting opposite her was.

"You must know a Miss Lindsay as well, right? Yes, the Speaker's granddaughter..."

He briefly recounted the events of the previous night, then issued a warning.

"Miss Mikhail is a friend of mine, so I was hoping you could... rein her in a little. What she's doing is far too dangerous. Also, I heard from a friend today that the Church has already caught wind of this and has begun an investigation. The chance of it tracing back to us is small, but we can't afford to be careless."

In an instant, her face grew terrifyingly dark, and a menacing glint flickered in her eyes.