Chapter 39: Chapter 39

With a nod, Jenkins concluded the haggling. He pulled a wad of banknotes from his pocket, placed them on the table, and slid them past the central candle toward the woman on the opposite sofa.

"Seven pounds up front," he said. "The rest in three weeks."

The woman nodded, snatching the gold pounds from the table.

"Since you managed to find the Joker, you must have heard of the Huntress's reputation. Don't worry about a thing. Just find the middleman in three weeks."

Jenkins nodded again, saying nothing more. He turned, walked around the sofa, and opened a trapdoor in the floor, disappearing into the darkness below.

He had no idea who the Huntress was, but Papa Oliver had recommended the Joker. The middleman had been active in Nolan's underground black market for over a decade and had an impeccable reputation. That was the only reason Jenkins dared to hand over a sum as large as seven pounds without so much as asking for a receipt.

Assuming receipts even existed for this sort of thing.

Papa Oliver hadn't asked what Jenkins was planning, only warning him not to easily reveal his identity. Jenkins understood the risks perfectly. After leaving the middleman, he browsed the black market for a while longer, picking up some common ritual materials. Then, cloaked in shadow, he changed back into his usual attire and emerged from a pub's cellar back to street level.

He'd had no luck in the black market, but a stroke of good fortune was waiting for him at the antique shop. The very next day, just as Jenkins arrived at Papa Oliver's and was preparing to start his cleaning, the bell on the door jingled. A stout woman in a bulky wool sweater hurried inside.

The stout woman's voice was raspy as she addressed Jenkins, who was holding a cleaning rag. He hesitated for a moment before nodding, then opened a side door to fetch Papa Oliver from the back courtyard.

"Good morning, madam. How may I help you?"

Papa Oliver's face was fixed in a standard, professional smile.

The woman gave a brisk nod and took a small cloth pouch from her coat. She placed it on the counter and unfolded it, revealing an assortment of small badges.

Jenkins, his Eye of Reality active, marveled internally. Among the handful of badges, two were radiating a faint light.

"How much are they worth?" the woman asked, her words tumbling out in a rush.

"One moment, please. I'll need to appraise them. These badges appear to be from different eri—"

"Just give me a price! I'm in a hurry!"

The woman cut Papa Oliver off rudely. He frowned at her.

"My apologies, madam, but this is a professional antique shop, not a second-hand collection station. I must appraise the items before I can make an offer. Otherwise, my peers would say I'm unprofessional."

The stout woman swept the badges back into the pouch and spun around to leave. Jenkins hesitated, then called out to her.

The woman shot him a suspicious glare. After all, he looked like nothing more than the shop's cleaner.

"Three pounds," Jenkins offered. "I'd like to buy them as a gift for my brother. He's finally coming home for a visit."

The woman clearly couldn't care less about his story.

"Two pounds. I'm just interested, that's all."

"One pound and twelve pence. If you agree, I can pay you right now."

A dangerous look flashed across the woman's face, as if she were contemplating grabbing a nearby porcelain vase and opening a hole in Jenkins's skull. But she just pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and nodded. She strode forward, snatched the banknotes Jenkins was counting, shoved the cloth pouch into his hands, and stormed out of the shop.

"So, how much did she actually get?"

Papa Oliver had been watching the exchange with an amused smile. He only spoke after the woman had gone.

"I didn't finish counting, but after paying the coachman this morning, I definitely have less than one pound and ten pence... I was about to count it out and then get the rest from my coat pocket."

Papa Oliver chuckled. "She won't be coming back for the change. People like that are either thieves trying to offload stolen goods or shady practitioners who've gotten their hands on something they shouldn't have."

"We won't get into trouble, will we?"

A flicker of concern crossed Jenkins's face.

"Relax, relax. When I first opened this shop, the steam pipes hadn't even reached this street. In all that time, no one has ever gotten the better of me."

"Impressive. Very badass," Jenkins thought to himself.

He carried the small cloth pouch to the counter and carefully laid out all the badges.

"Could you take a look for me, Papa Oliver? I really felt like something in here was calling to me."

Papa Oliver nodded. He took a pair of small spectacles from his coat pocket, perched them on his nose, and activated his ability, running his fingers over each of the dozens of badges.

After a moment, he selected one and set it aside.

"I'm starting to regret letting you have this deal. This one is an Extraordinary item."

"He didn't notice the one glowing blue?" Jenkins wondered, surprised. He quickly masked it with a different kind of astonishment.

"Really? What incredible luck!"

"You little rascal, causing such a stir first thing in the morning," Papa Oliver chided with a laugh. "Hold on, let me take a closer look at what they can do. It's about time you had some items of your own. After what happened last time... if Barnard hadn't been carrying that bomb, we both would have been done for."

"Don't we have to hand them over to the Church?" Jenkins asked uncertainly.

"Our primary duty is to monitor 'dangerous' items circulating on the market. Understand?" Papa Oliver said, his tone heavy with meaning.

"Understood! Perfectly understood!"

In other words, if an item wasn't dangerous, he could keep it for himself, as long as the Church never found out!

"Just as I thought. Papa Oliver has been here for so many years... the number of supernatural items in his possession probably surpasses that of anyone I've ever met."

The thought wasn't without reason. Jenkins had been studying a great deal of arcane knowledge lately and had come to understand that the ability to appraise items was exceptionally rare. Something like his Eye of Reality was completely undocumented. There were likely no more than three Enchanters in all of Nolan City with a direct appraisal ability. This little old man in his antique shop was undoubtedly as valuable to the Church as any high-level combatant.

"This is a good chance to test what you've learned these past few days."

Setting the single Extraordinary badge aside, Papa Oliver gestured to the remaining ones.

"Now, tell me, what period does each of them belong to, and what are they worth?"

Jenkins nodded and reached out, first picking out three that looked relatively new. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novęlfire.net

"These are modern trinkets, probably commemorative badges. Worthless."

Papa Oliver gave a slight nod.

"This should be a badge from the founding of the Cheslan Kingdom, awarded to low-ranking military nobles. I've seen it in a book. It's worth around ten pounds."

Papa Oliver nodded again.