Chapter 378: Chapter 378

Fog swirled through the cemetery. The pianist, dressed in a black suit, was dabbing at his sweaty face with a handkerchief, his expression tense as he spoke to someone.

From Jenkins's vantage point, the other person was hidden from view. All he could make out was a black sleeve, peeking out from behind a tree trunk, flickering in and out of sight through the swirling mist.

"He's sweating this much in weather ?"

He subconsciously touched his own cheek. He considered waving a greeting but decided against it, feeling it would be impolite to interrupt their conversation. Instead, he simply started walking toward them openly.

To his surprise, before he could even get close, Mr. Kevin gave a flustered nod to the person behind the tree and hurried off in the opposite direction.

Jenkins was a little taken aback but refrained from calling out his name, not wanting to disturb the slumbering souls in their eternal rest.

Seeing Mr. Kevin depart, Jenkins turned to leave as well, only to be stopped by a voice.

"Jenkins R. Williams?"

He spun around, startled that someone knew his full name. His eyes fell upon a man dressed head to toe in black—a black suit, black trousers, black leather shoes, and a black hat. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he blinked involuntarily.

"A body bathed in a yellow aura. Oh, so it's not a Cursed Item. What in the world is my luck?"

Sometimes he truly wondered if he was cursed by fate itself. Then again, the fact that he was still alive and relatively safe made him grateful for the blessings of the Hermit of Fate.

"Is there something you need?"

Since it wasn't a Cursed Item, there was less to fear. Still, his tone was cautious, and he took a step back as he spoke. He was in no mood to get involved with something .

Earlier that morning, he'd been so preoccupied with asking Papa Oliver about funeral-related Cursed Items that he'd completely forgotten about the possibility of encountering a Series B Extraordinary Item.

"You needn't be so wary of me, Mr. Williams."

The man shrugged, though his expression remained perfectly blank.

"I'm merely a merchant. A merchant who sells life. Oh, and what a long life you have. I imagine my services won't be of interest to you."

Compared to the humanoid Cursed Items he'd met in the past, this humanoid Extraordinary Item was surprisingly talkative. Jenkins found it difficult to maintain his guard in its presence. After backing away to a safe distance, he stopped and asked:

"How do you know my name?"

"That is my gift. I can see the name and lifespan of any person. For a merchant of life, it's a fundamental skill."

Jenkins nodded, his right hand slipping into his pocket to fiddle with the Sin Coins sewn into the lining. This particular currency could be created, but the yield was incredibly low. He currently possessed only five whole coins, most of which were spoils from the demon incident. Mortals, be they ordinary people or Enchanters, produced a pitifully small amount.

"That gentleman from just now..."

"My apologies," he stated. "As a merchant, I have professional ethics to uphold."

"Let me ask a different question, then. Your business interests me. If one were to trade for more life, what is the price?"

The damp, earthy scent of the graveyard filled his nostrils with each breath, and a shiver ran through him from the cold. But a silent, unseen flame flickered into existence around him, shielding him from the damnable weather.

"It's quite simple. I accept souls after death, strands of one's fate, organs, emotions, valuable and unique items... I take it all."

As he spoke, he pulled back the left side of his black jacket, revealing a dizzying array of tiny bottles nestled in countless pockets sewn into the lining.

"Do you accept Sin Coins?"

The man was visibly taken aback. He rubbed his nose. "Such a generous customer? Of course, I accept them. How much life do you require? Lifespan itself isn't particularly valuable, you see. And since you're the first customer in this Epoch to offer me a Sin Coin, I can give you a better price. How does thirty years of life for a single coin sound? It's an incredible offer!"

Thirty years was far beyond what Jenkins had imagined; he would have guessed ten at most. But the value of Sin Coins was undeniable, and it wasn't as if he were on death's door. For the moment, he had no intention of trading them for a longer life. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novęlfire.net

"If I may ask, what use do you have for Sin Coins?"

A faint smile finally cracked the merchant's stiff expression, but he clearly had no intention of answering.

"Two Blasphemy Seeds, in exchange for your answer."

Still, he remained silent.

Jenkins could only shake his head with a sigh. Of course, the answer wouldn't come that easily.

"Besides life, do you sell anything else? I imagine you have plenty of other rare items."

"Sir, I specialize in the trade of life. I sell nothing else."

Jenkins gave a slight nod and took a few steps toward the man in black, a silent admission that he was lowering his guard.

"Do you sell abilities?"

He was reminded of the Black Sacred series of abilities sold by the conductor in the train-themed Mysterious Realm.

"What ability are you looking to purchase?"

He mulled it over. He currently had two empty ability bubbles. One was already reserved for [Protection of Books]—an ability he'd been anticipating for a long time. That left a single slot he could fill by buying from this Series B humanoid. After all, some opportunities, once missed, might never come again.

"The ability to see a person's true name."

"Ten Sin Coins. Any type will suffice."

The merchant held up both hands, showing Jenkins ten fingers.

Jenkins's expression froze for a moment. He gave an embarrassed chuckle and rubbed his chin.

"How about the ability to see a person's lifespan?"

"Ten. But I'll only accept Blood Coins for that one."

"Even without factoring in Gold Pounds, I'm still a poor man."

As the thought crossed his mind, he pulled the five whole, green coins from his pocket and showed them to the merchant.

"I know that your actions in the material world are constrained by certain rules. See? This is all I have. What can you sell me for this?"

"Five coins? It seems you're quite wealthy indeed. However, my need is for Blood Coins. As for Blasphemy Seeds..."

That single sentence revealed a great deal: different supernatural entities required different types of Sin Coins.

"I can't sell you a complete ability for that price, but an incomplete one is no problem. Go ahead, make your request. I've mastered most abilities related to life."

His brow furrowed as an idea struck him.

"Ah, that interesting one. Which version of the [Undying Man] ability do you require?"

The late autumn wind was cool, but the damp air of the cemetery made it feel bone-chilling. The fog was growing thicker now, no doubt fed by the sprawling factories on the city's outskirts.

Jenkins felt he was onto something. An incredible possibility bloomed in his mind.

"The Savior's ability, for the end of the Epoch."

His heart pounded in his chest as he spoke the words.